by LeRoy Clary
Once they had been promoted to corporals, they stuck close to their commanding officers during conflicts, making themselves indispensable while sitting at the rear of engagements and pointing out important military information such as where a supply of aged wines might be stored, or which inns had the prettiest, most willing, and skillful wenches. Neither had directly faced the enemy since their first year. Their only fighting had been over gambling, drinking, women, sports, and pride, but in the infantry, their time to face the enemy again would eventually arrive.
“Do you really think Fenton is dead?” Tyler asked.
“No, he probably isn’t, he’s too ornery and crooked to die easily. Remember, he stays away from conflict unless it involves barmaids or red wine. When the first arrows fly, so does Fenton. You know that.”
“Yes, but we have always been chasing the Queensland Army, taking the fight to them, not the other way around.”
Bender said, “It’s like gambling with Blocks. You feint and plunge ahead when the time’s right. Just like we did on watch a hundred times.”
The remark was funny because Bender tended to pay others to stand his watches, but he stood enough watches to have time to play Blocks on duty. His real creativity lay in appearing to lose at his gambling endeavors and complaining loudly about it to any who would listen. The truth was, he secreted part of his winnings by slipping them into a pocket as the games progressed. That simple action made his ‘winnings’ pile smaller, and made him look like he was losing ‘again.’ But the truth was, he rarely lost over the course of a game, but his pocket usually bulged.
Still, the appearance of constantly losing, and his complaining had two good effects. The first was nobody ever accused him of cheating because losers are not cheaters – or they would be winners. The second effect was that everyone wanted him to gamble in their games so he could lose his pay to them. He had no shortage of games to play in.
Usually, Tyler sat in the same games, laughing and taunting Bender for losing his pay again or chastising him for making silly bets on three Blocks, when everyone knew you couldn’t win without four.
“I suppose you’re right,” Tyler said. “Not that I’d call Fenton a coward, but he does seem to avoid battles.”
“I remember once when we were following a small group of them at that town just over the pass. He spotted the sign for an inn, and we sat out the whole battle with mugs of ale and three or four loose women on our laps.”
“I’ve heard that story before, but Fenton never confirmed it,” Tyler said. “And without confirmation, I choose not to believe it. Besides, where was I?”
Bender laughed. “You know damn well you were making eyes at that dark-haired farmer girl you used to chase over there. I don’t remember how you did it, but you avoided the whole skirmish. Wait, I think you were in the stockade when we deployed. Yes, that was it. The officer of the guard was upset when they found your second purse.”
While they were not rich, there were many soldiers who were poorer after meeting them and playing Blocks, and both carried a fair amount of gold. Tyler was amused at those thoughts, letting them fill the time as he walked, careful to keep an eye on either side and behind. Bender watched ahead, as was their norm.
They knew who would do what, and where, without speaking because of working together most of their adult lives. Both were well over twenty years old, a ripe old age for front-line foot soldiers. They moved through the thick forest almost without conversation. Tyler used his ears as well as his eyes and nose. The animals of the forest reacted to the presence of men passing through their domain. Squirrels chattered, and birds scolded, and even a flush of quail can tell if people lurk nearby.
The sudden silence in a forest forewarned Bender’s careful ears. Bender took a knee. He didn’t need to say anything or hold up his fist for Tyler to do the same. The knee meant for Tyler to take one also, and to be still and quiet until the problem was resolved or identified. An enemy might be within whispering distance, but more likely within sight. Any unnecessary movement or talk drew attention.
Tyler placed a hand on the hilt of his knife and wished he had his bow and a quiver of arrows. He preferred to fight from a distance where he didn’t have to expose himself, or at least he could keep the danger to a maximum distance. That rule served him well.
Bender remained still, but a twitch of his head told Tyler he was listening to something or trying to. Tyler heard the faint whisper of a mumbled conversation drifting on the warm evening air. The forest quickly absorbed most sounds, preventing them from being heard at a distance, so the conversationalists must be near.
Tyler waited, ready to follow Bender’s lead. Bender held up an index finger, telling Tyler to remain where he was and not move. His friend crabbed sideways on his knees, then left the trail and entered the cover of the trees at a crawl. Tyler wanted to slip off the trail and conceal himself, but that sort of independent thinking got soldiers killed. He did as ordered and remained immobile.
Bender came back into sight and motioned for Tyler to circle around, leaving the path to do so. They moved quickly, quietly, and with skill. Both had grown up in forests like this one, and they had learned how to move without detection.
When they had traveled some distance away, Bender whispered, “A campsite. Ten men. All Queensland.”
“Was there a road?”
“That’s the bad news. No. Since they’re not guarding a road, they must have camps everywhere on this side of the river.”
Tyler shrugged, “They must have more men than we ever did, to waste ten in the middle of nowhere, like that.”
“Imagine how many they’ll have guarding the river bank.”
“So, what do you think we should do?”
Bender said, “With ten men back there to guard the empty forest, there shouldn’t be more of them for a while. I say we go a little farther away, then catch up on the sleep we missed last night.”
Later, Tyler glanced behind, and in the darkness, he saw the undersides of some trees lit by a campfire. It had to be a half mile behind but was easy to see in the dark night, and a warning for them, if they wanted a warm fire.
They settled down under a tree off the path a few dozen steps. Both sat with their blanket draped over their head to keep the bugs away from their ears, eyes, noses, and mouths, as they fell into fitful sleep. Tyler kept imagining the slashing teeth of the black dragon trying to reach for him in the cave, getting closer with each slash, while Bender slept and mumbled about the idiocy of climbing a rope down to the nest of a dragon while trying to steal an egg.
Tyler woke in the middle of the night with the bulge of his dragon’s claw under his ribs in his backpack, and he shifted it aside, still amazed at the enormous size. Bender was right about the future mugs of ale it would buy, and then he thought of what Bender said about the ants cleaning it as they slept. He sat up and brushed hungry ants from his shirt. The claw was still inside the backpack, along with most of the ants. He grabbed it and tossed it a few steps away for the rest of the night, then managed to get most of the ants off himself.
He said, “Bender, wake up. Don’t forget to put your claw out for the ants.”
Bender snickered, “That would sure be stupid of me. Did you forget?”
“Of course, not. I was just making sure you didn’t make a fool of yourself.” Tyler wiped a few more ants off his bare arm and went back to sleep. His dreams got no better.
When morning came, the top of the forest was hidden by dense fog, damp and quiet. It had also prevented sunlight from waking them, and Tyler believed a good part of the morning had already skipped past due to how tired they were. He reached for the claw and found hundreds of ants still on, and around it. He shook them off and examined the meager remains of meat and gristle remaining. Another night or two and the claw would be as clean as if it had been cast from metal. Maybe Bender was right. A claw that size might back up some tall tales.
“How do we drill a hole in them?” Tyler asked
.
Bender fastened the front of his trousers after finishing peeing and wiped his hands dry on his thighs. “Claws are like fingernails, right? Maybe we can heat a nail and burn a hole.”
Tyler said, “Big enough for a rope to hold it around our neck? Do you think the other troops Queensland has are better than those we encountered last night?”
“You know they are. They’ve got to be. We were lucky with drawing raw recruits back there, but if Queensland crossed over the pass, they have no intention of going home.”
Tyler said, “We were tired and stupid back there, you know.”
“How so?”
“Neither of us checked them for weapons or money.”
Bender drove a fist into his palm. “They might have had food we could have taken, too!”
“Relax. Like I said, we were tired from running all night.”
“Yes, but I’ll bet you this morning those two idiots are sitting beside a warm fire eating a good hot meal and talking about how stupid we were, while they count their bonus money and sew new stripes on their uniforms for their promotions. We sure showed them, didn’t we?” Bender’s tone told how angry he was with himself.
Tyler couldn’t resist. “I suppose you’re right. Especially if they tell a good story, like the one you suggested.”
“Shut up. We’d better get going.”
“I think we should wait for the fog to clear, so we don’t accidentally run into more troops.”
Bender turned to face him, his expression became totally serious for a change. “No, we need to hurry because I think we may have another serious problem.”
“Oh, what now?” Tyler drawled, glancing around at the thick fog to make sure they were safe.
“I didn’t sleep well and kept waking up all night long, so I used the time to do some thinking.”
Tyler waited for the ax to fall, but when Bender didn’t say anything else, Tyler finally asked, “Me too. So?”
“I felt something inside my egg move. Twice.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Tyler froze. “Your egg moved? How?”
“Don’t go all crazy on me. I’m not sure, but I think so.” Bender paused, then after thinking for a short time, he continued, “Yes, it moved.”
“How did it move, I asked?”
Bender shrugged. “I don’t know how to explain it. The egg was rounder . . . and then it wasn’t.”
“When that happens, how long before dragon eggs hatch?” Tyler asked, placing a hand on the egg he still carried in his shirt to keep it warm but felt no change in the shape of the leathery shell.
“I can’t answer that. Who knows when they were even laid? The only question that counts is how long after the dragon inside moves until it breaks out of the shell and climbs out?” Bender shrugged again, indicating he had no answers for his questions.
For once, neither had anything funny or snarky to say. Tyler’s gaze fell again to the egg he carried. The idea that it might hatch before they reached Captain Torrie had never occurred to him. In all his wild imaginations of their triumphant return to camp, most included him holding the egg high above his head as jealous soldiers gushed over him, but not one daydream ever held the egg hatching first.
Tyler said, “We’d better hurry.”
“As if we weren’t already. What do baby dragons eat?”
“Children? Stupid Unity Soldiers?” Tyler asked, a grin slipping into place. But instead of waiting for the dense fog to clear, he gathered his things, stuffed everything into his backpack, and stood, ready to move. He remembered where he’d tossed the claw and placed it into his backpack along with the egg. Inside, the egg would be warm enough during the day.
Bender had finished packing and was almost out of sight as he moved quickly down the trail. Tyler hurried to catch up, his mind on the egg instead of his surroundings. Because in the fog he used his ears more than eyes. He’d noticed at other times how fog seemed to soften most sounds, while carrying others, sometimes across great distances, especially over water.
Once, he had been fishing on the bank of the Middling River and listened to an entire conversation from two unseen liars telling of their conquests with local girls. When the fog lifted, he found they were in a boat so far upstream he couldn’t make out who they were. But, this morning, the forest was deadly quiet.
Bender’s chatter had stilled, the animals huddled in their dens in silence, and no breeze stirred the limp leaves. Moisture coated all: the branches, ground, leaves, and air. The world felt damp and cold. Tyler tried to keep his mind focused on both sides of the trail, and behind, which were his duties to watch, but found it drifted back to the image of a baby dragon breaking free of its egg, chewing through the canvas of his backpack, and attacking his neck for its first meal. In the latest version of the daydream, he couldn’t get free of the backpack, and the dragon ate him whole while remaining in the backpack the entire time.
Tyler muttered to Bender, “I’ll keep a watch on your backpack for you.”
“Why?” Bender said over his shoulder, confused by the statement.
“Just in case. That’s all,” Tyler said, not wishing to explain.
“Okay. Thanks, I guess.”
Tyler shut up. Once, after a branch scraped down the side of the backpack making a sound that might be like a small dragon would make, he fought the urge to rip it off and check the egg. The sound was what he heard in his mind when the baby dragon emerged and began eating him. On impulse, he asked, “What do you call a baby dragon?”
“A chick or hatchling, I think,” Bender said, sounding like he didn’t want to talk.
And dragon mothers are hens. But did that mean adult males are roosters? “One more question. What’s an adult male called?”
“A Drake.”
He should have known that. He also knew asking any more questions along those lines would alert Bender to his concerns and give his friend plenty to tease him about. He glanced up. The sky above seemed brighter than lower. Maybe the fog was lifting.
His eye caught movement behind them. He hissed, “Something’s back there.”
They turned and watched as one, knives drawn and held ready. When nothing showed, Bender finally said, “Let’s go back and take a look.”
Tyler liked that about Bender. He didn’t question what Tyler had seen or not seen, or if there had been nothing but his working imagination. Bender would make sure, and then, if they found nothing, never mention it again. The worst thing either of them could do was to ‘maybe’ see something important and keep quiet because it might attack. Better to investigate anything they thought they saw, and make sure. That was how they stayed alive in enemy territory.
Fifty steps back along the path, discovered the fresh paw prints of a huge dog, coyote, or wolf, overlaid their footprints. They followed them, and the animal had been following them all morning. It was probably watching them from just out of sight right now, probably hungry and searching for an easy meal.
“Smells the eggs,” Bender said as if he knew what was happening.
“Or the rotten claws. Let’s move. I’ll keep a close watch behind and see if it follows.” Wild dogs seldom attacked people, but a hungry dog, especially one that had previously enjoyed a meal of a dragon egg, would continue following them. Knock it off. You don’t know if any dog ever ate a dragon egg.
The fog lifted as they traipsed up another small hill bringing the sunshine that made the day seem almost cheerful and far warmer. The damp evaporated from the nearby shrubs, trees, and in a short time all around them dried. From the top of the next hill, they could see out over the top of the remaining bank of fog and saw only the treetops and brilliant sunshine above the swirling mists. To the west, several smudges of gray smoke not much different in color from the fog rose higher into the air.
Bender used his chin to indicate the plumes of smoke. “Unity campfires across the river.”
“Our people.”
“We need a boat to get there,” Bender said.
“Why? We can both swim.”
“The dragon eggs. They need to be kept warm, but the river is so cold it will kill them, and then we have nothing.”
Tyler said, “We still have the locations of three dragon nests and at least two more clutches of eggs. That’s something.”
Bender turned, his face impassive. “We know where there are dragon nests located behind enemy lines. And it’s not in me to kill a majestic creature like a dragon, even if it is a hatchling or an egg.”
“Where do we get a boat?”
“Most houses along the river should have at least one, but there will be Queensland troops camped near there, too, and they may have confiscated them.” Bender closed his eyes and squinted as if lost in deep thought.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m looking at a map inside my mind. I saw a map of the river in an officer’s tent once, the river and the whole area around here. I can remember most of it. Downriver, about a day from here is a small town or village.”
Tyler said, “How does that help us?”
“If Queensland brought their whole army through the mountain pass, there’s a limit to how many troops they have with them. A full day’s walk from that village down the river to here, and all the area between is a vast amount of land to control. It would take a lot more troops to guard all of it. Too many troops, so there must be a limit to the area they’ve occupied, which is mostly on the bank.”
“Too many details for me to follow. Your plan is we head to that village as fast as we can go? I’d think they also control the village.”
Bender shook his head. “Queensland’s movements are very predictable. I heard that from a Major, once. They’ll place their troops where they do the most good, which in this case, is to spread them out on this side of the river. They’re securing a riverbank, so to speak. All the way from the Middling River to the pass over the mountains.”
“I don’t see your point.”
Bender said, “Imagine a funnel placed on a map, you know, like the funnel your mother used in her kitchen. The tiny end is the mountain pass, the wide end rests at the river. Their generals are not attempting to take over all of Unity, not yet, they just want to establish a foothold that can be defended.”