Here, There Be Dragons

by LeRoy Clary

  They faced the stern of the boat as they rowed, a normal circumstance, but since Tyler sat in the forward bow seat, he took it upon himself to repeatedly turn and look ahead. Bender never wavered in his steady rowing.

  Tyler marked a tree on the bank to use as a gauge and watched as they approached it, and passed. He judged their speed as that of a runner, but perhaps not a sprinter. Between the current and their rowing, they were covering distance at a nice pace that would be hard to keep up with on land.

  There were a few campfires across the river, most of them near the shore where Tyler assumed the bounty hunters watched the water for boats. He didn’t think they could see their boat moving down the other bank. No shouts or warnings ahead were heard. He watched carefully for any boats launched to intercept them.

  “Trouble,” Bender said softly, his head had turned, and he now looked ahead.

  Tyler hadn’t seen anything on his last look, but turned again. Ahead lay a massive log jam, undoubtedly constructed by the Cabots. It loomed like a dark mass of branches, brush, logs, and whatever else floated down the river. The water continued to flow under the obstruction, but any boats were stalled or forced to try passing through a small channel left open. There would be guards on duty at the channel, and probably netting to prevent any boats from getting past.

  Those ideas filled Tyler’s mind as he considered what he would do if it was him blocking the river. He said, “They’ll also have men on the banks for people who run their boats ashore and try to go around on foot.”

  “How many men would you post at the slot?”

  “Five or six on this side would be enough to stop almost any boat. But I’d guess only three or four are there standing watch at most times.”

  “Ouch,” Bender responded.

  The boat drifted to the log jam, and Tyler used his oar to slow and keep it steady while studying the opening. “Torches on this side only.”

  “Oh, crap. There must be a dozen torches, at least.”

  Tyler said, “With all of them, they’ll be night-blind.”

  Bender used a small rope to tie the boat to the floating mass. “I have an idea. Can we walk on this stuff? The logs?”

  Tyler shook his head. “Maybe some, but not all. We might be able to crawl over it, but then what? Swim down the river?”

  “Maybe. But listen. They can’t see us as well as we can see them, because of the torches ruining their night vision. What if I slip into the water and work my way close? Then you bring the boat. When they see the boat, they’ll attack, but maybe we can take the fight to them first. If we both kill one man with first arrows, and I only see five of them. Two more arrows and maybe only one of them is left.”

  “If we don’t miss any shots.”

  Bender said, “If I get into a good position, I can fire at least three arrows before they string their bows and draw their first arrow. If I hide behind a log, in back of them, I can maybe take out all five.”

  Tyler began to argue, but realized his friend was right. And if Tyler provided a few arrows for the conflict, from a different direction, they improved their chances even more. “I’ll go, too.”

  “No. We need the boat, and we need to get it through that opening before reinforcements arrive, plus our supplies are in the boat. And you need to keep the dog quiet. You stay with the boat. When I give the signal, move closer and make some noise, drawing their attention. After they spot you, they’ll begin shooting.”

  “So, my job is to be the target?”

  “I’ll take them by surprise from behind. We need to finish this quickly before they can shout another warning or blow those damn whistles.” Bender took a full quiver of ten arrows and a bow over the side of the boat, holding them high to keep them dry. He crawled up on the tangle of logs on his stomach and inched from one to the next.

  Tyler lost sight of him, but didn’t move. After longer than he expected, he started to worry, he spotted Bender’s raised arm, the signal for him to move. Tyler had already strung a bow and placed the strap of a quiver over his shoulder. He’d angled the quiver, so the arrows were within reach of his right hand, right behind his right ear where he would naturally reach. One arrow was already fitted to the string, the bow resting on the seat beside him.

  He pushed the boat off the log jam and used a single oar to move parallel to the mass of floating debris, aiming for the torches. Tyler crouched in the center of the boat. The first torch came up too fast, but he held steady. There were five guards, four of whom were standing half-asleep, and the last napping in a chair. Tyler began to think he might pass right by without being seen.

  As he placed the oar aside, it made a slight thump on the bottom of the boat before he was ready. Tyler said, “Hey!” Drawing their attention to the water and his boat.

  His hand grabbed the bow as the nearest guard’s head came up. Tyler’s arrow took him in the chest. Tyler had the second arrow ready to fly, but just before he released, Bender’s arrow struck the same man he’d targeted. Tyler shifted his aim to the third guard and let fly.

  He saw the fourth guard, the last standing, also take an arrow in his chest, and Tyler fired at the last guard, who looked stunned at those around him fell. His arrow and another struck him at the same time. All five were down, if not dead. Tyler tossed the bow aside and reached for the oars. He pulled hard, and the boat moved into the light. He couldn’t see Bender but had no time to turn and search for him.

  “Nets,” Bender called from somewhere ahead.

  Tyler entered the narrow channel, and the current carried him into a tangle of nets strung across. Tyler pulled the sword from his scabbard and leaped to the bow. His first slash cut cleanly through a net and his second swing cut a line pulled tight from one side to the other just above the waterline. But there were more ropes and nets. Many more.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw Bender, knife in hand, cutting the lines where they were tied on the end of the log jam. Eventually, the nets fell away one by one, and the boat floated free. It passed the last of the nets, and the last of the torches fell behind. Tyler traded the sword for the oars again and pulled against the current to hold the boat in place.

  The rotting bodies of three men hung from a scaffold. All of them wore the colors of the Unity Army. More deserters who were trying for a better life down the river, away from the war. Just like Tyler and Bender. He wasted no time in recriminations or regrets.

  Between strokes, he heard the steady splashing of swimming. Bender came into sight as the first shouts of alarm came from behind. Torches bobbed along the walkway to the slot they had just passed through, and whistles blew sounding the alarm. Men shouted.

  Bender’s head came into view. Tyler let the oars fall to the bottom of the boat and reached out. Bender gripped his wrist, and he took Bender’s and pulled with his shoulders and legs. Bender slid out of the water and into the boat.

  Bender scrambled to his seat. “Row. They’ll be after us this time.”

  Tyler glanced back and found three boats already sliding into the water pursuing them. They must have been prepared at the log jam and had men ready to row. He grabbed his oars and seated himself, but this time he faced the enemy as he rowed. His eyes flicked to the quiver and bow near his feet. Lucky ran away from his seat to the front of the boat, and Tyler realized the dog hadn’t participated at all in the conflict, not even a bark. But then as he pulled the oars for another stroke, he realized that by the time the dog realized something was happening, it was mostly over.

  Tyler had fired three arrows, in the time it takes to take in a breath three times. He’d slashed the nets with the sword, but he’d been too busy to quiet the dog if it had barked. Even when he pulled Bender into the boat, the dog had just sat and watched. Again, it only took a few heartbeats, but the dog had been more of an observer than a participant.

  He clearly saw the three boats following against the backdrop of the torches at the slot, and two more boats joined them. Now there were five in the water, but
one outdistanced the others, drawing nearer and nearer. An arrow splashed to one side. The second arrow narrowly missed their stern.

  “Enough of this crap.” Bender snarled and shipped his oars.

  Tyler continued rowing while watching Bender pull his bowstring. The arrow sailed high and struck the rower sitting in the stern of the boat instead of the marksman standing in the center to fire another arrow. The boat abruptly slowed and swerved. Bender took up his oars again, and Tyler matched his strokes as the boat fell behind and out of sight without a rower.

  The moon rose and in the sparkling starlight Tyler found the other boats falling further behind, but they lacked the incentive of rowing for their lives. There were no more traps or bottlenecks in sight, but he never slowed, and Bender matched him stroke after painful stroke. His sore arms, back, shoulders and stomach would remind him of this night for days, but in response, he dipped his oars deeper and pulled harder.

  No more fires or torches revealed themselves downriver. Tyler checked ahead often, but it appeared the dam on the river was the last obstacle. Still, he didn’t trust that it was and didn’t slow. In the distance, far behind, he heard more of the shrill whistles the Cabots used. Then he heard an answering whistle from downriver.

  “There’s more of them ahead,” Tyler said.

  “And they know we’re coming,” Bender replied. He paused and let the water drip off the paddles of the oars. “They think we’re in a boat so that’s the last place we should be.”

  Tyler agreed. He powered the left oar to turn the boat to the shore. Once the bow touched the soft mud, he leaped out and pulled it higher on the beach. Bender climbed out the other side, and together they pulled and half-carried the boat well into the weeds before gathering their packs and weapons. They smoothed the ruts in the soft mud, but they wouldn’t fool anyone in daylight.

  “High ground or downriver?” Tyler asked.

  “Come daylight; they’ll find the boat and track us with dogs. If we’re in the hills, they’ll find us for sure.”

  Tyler turned downriver. “They’re waiting down there.”

  “Maybe not on the shore. Or maybe we can slip past.”

  Bender was right. The alarm had been sounded along the river. It was possible all the Cabots were headed for boats or offensive positions to prevent escapes down the river. He smiled as he fought to keep pace with Bender. Lucky ranged ahead, pausing for them to catch up frequently. The flat ground had grass and few trees, so they moved quickly in the moonlight. The backpacks were growing heavier and caused them to take several breaks. The dragons slept.

  Torches floating on the river attracted his attention. A dozen or more boats were out there, each with a torch or two, an almost solid string of boats from one bank to the other. All waiting for them.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Tyler said, “Move faster.”

  “I’m going as fast as I can.”

  The boats across the river lined up too perfectly. There must be a rope or floating bridge across it, placed there to prevent people escaping downriver, or to capture those heading up the river. The boats were tied to it, one after the other. The piercing whistles still sounded up the river from the log jam dam they’d created, warning the units downriver to expect escapees.

  Tyler said, “They expect us to be on the water, but when we don’t arrive they’re going to search the banks. When daylight comes, they will, anyhow.”

  “The night isn’t half through, yet.”

  “The boats are a distraction,” Tyler said, not realizing his mouth uttered the words.

  Bender slowed. “You’re right. Too easy to spot the boats from upriver. Seeing them would make any fools go ashore to escape.”

  “Like us.”

  Bender changed their path to move closer to the river’s edge again as he spoke softly, “If they want us to leave the river, we won’t. Let’s go see what they’re up to out there.”

  “What they’re up to,” Tyler said, “is that they want us on the ground. We’re about to fall into a trap up ahead.”

  Bender set a fast pace, but with caution as he took them from inland back to the river just above the string of boats. As expected, a heavy rope as big around as his wrist stretched from one bank to the other, attached to wooden stumps on the shore. Small boats waited, tied to the larger rope, most with three or more men. Torches lit up the entire length. Nothing could get past them.

  Archers sat in every boat, as well as ground troops and at least one rower. All the occupants wore the Cabot uniform. They appeared excited and cheerful, like men before a party. They called out to each other, taunting and challenging. Who would be the first to put an arrow into the escapees? Tyler heard several comments that suggested the winners, the boat that captured or killed the escapees, would be rewarded.

  “Ideas?” Tyler asked.

  “Maybe. They have the river blocked, but they intend for us to flee inland. But, who’s guarding the end of that rope strung across the river?”

  Tyler eased closer to look over a small mound of tangled brush. “So, now you want to steal their rope?”

  “It’s tied off to that cottonwood stump, I think. Do you see anyone around it?”

  “Nobody.”

  “Heavy shadows near that stump from the willows. If I can get there undetected, I can cut the rope.”

  Tyler said, “A lot of open ground between here and there, all open where they can see you. Besides, when you cut it, the rope will drift downriver and take the boats with it, but their shouts will bring the shore detachment here. They’ll know exactly where we are and swarm over every foot of ground.”

  “Probably even bring in extra troops to the river to hunt for us, too. But we won’t be here.”

  “They’ll bring more of those dogs to track us.” Why am I the one planning ahead? That’s supposed to be Bender doing that.

  “I hope so. While I cut the rope, you’re going to the river bank where they have more boats. Get one ready to launch because in the confusion of the rope floating down the river. We need to slip past.”

  Tyler pictured the chaos of the boats guarding the river, a dozen of them. Still attached to the far bank, the near end of the rope would float down with the current, pulling the entire fleet of boats down the river and to the other side. A single boat, rowing fast, might escape undetected down the near side. Might. That one word left a lot to be desired, but there were only three other options, none good.

  They could flee upriver, or down, or remain on the bank, but patrols or dogs would locate them before sunup if they stayed on the ground. Across the river were bounty hunters hoping they’d cross the river.

  “I like your idea,” Tyler said.

  “Because we have no other option?”

  “Because it gives us a chance. With luck, we can pull it off,” Tyler said in a strong tone, then continued softer, and to himself, “Maybe.”

  “I heard that.”

  Tyler had already picked out a possible route to reach the boats lined up on the bank. No guards, some deep shadows under small trees, and plenty of cover between. He could get there undetected.

  “When the rope’s cut, I’m breaking cover and sprinting to you. Have the boat in the water ready to shove off. We do this fast or not at all.” Bender crawled and then crept closer to the cottonwood stump.

  While he moved off to the left, Tyler crawled to his right, using the tangled vines and brush to conceal him. Lucky trailed him. The dragons inside the backpacks shifted positions to be more comfortable, but didn’t make a fuss. A last glance behind found no trace of Bender. He’d already managed to blend in with the shadows cast by the moon.

  Tyler could have wished for a darker night, but the moon both provided advantages and took them away. It was all about how they were used. While others might see him, he knew where his enemies were and could avoid them instead of stumbling into them in the dark.

  The ground felt soggy in places, and soon his knees, elbows, and chest were wet. Moving
in open areas was turtle-slow. Once concealed in the darker shade of the trees, he moved quicker.

  Lucky growled. Tyler froze.

  His eyes scanned ahead. Two darker forms in the dim light drew his attention. Guards. A pair of them were sitting under a tree near the boats to prevent exactly what Tyler intended to do. Once the rope was cut, the guards would be on their feet, alert. The delay might cost him and Bender their only advantage, and that was if the guards didn’t capture or wound them. Worse, Bender didn’t know about the two guards, and when he cut through the thick rope, he would run directly at them on his way to the boat.

  Tyler touched the shoulder of Lucky to keep him quiet as he unslung his bow. He edged forward, pausing once as the rustle of scraping against a shrub alerted a guard, who stood for a quick look around. He breathed easier as the guard settled back down.

  Moving quietly, Tyler reached the distance where he believed he could probably hit the guards with his first arrows. He moved closer. Sure shots always beat probable ones.

  Finally, he reached a small willow that shielded him with shadows. He knelt, remembering the lecture of an archer during his first training. The archer had said, “When alone, never attack three, but it’s as easy to take out two as one. Your first arrow striking a man will draw the attention of the other. The sound of the strike, the grunt of pain, will make him look at his partner. That provides you the time to draw, aim, and release your second shot.”

  I hope he was right. Tyler focused on the guard who had been alerted earlier. That one was more likely to react since he was forewarned to a degree. As he’d done a thousand times, he drew the arrow and at the same time released his breath. He didn’t hold the aim, but let the arrow fly, reached for the next, fitted it to the string, pulled and released again.

  He’d already planned for his next move as he leaped to his feet, darted from one block of shade to another to keep as hidden from the boats as possible while charging ahead, and pulled his knife. He planned to cut the throat of a guard who might call out, but both were down, one dead, one soon to be.