Here, There Be Dragons

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Here, There Be Dragons Page 17

by LeRoy Clary


  When Bender and Tyler finally left the farm, all the large farm animals lay dead, and the barn was an inferno. The boy, his brothers, sisters, and mother were alive. But Tyler had no doubt Bender would do as he’d said. Those missing relatives from downriver would come here seeking revenge. They would be angry. There was no place the family could go to be safe from the fury of the people that would arrive in a day or two, and they knew it.

  Bender refused to speak until they were in the boat and he held the oars in hands that shook in anger. He pulled the boat into the current and paused in his rowing after only a few strokes. He turned to Tyler. “Thanks for rescuing me. How’d you know?”

  “Lucky warned me.”

  Bender turned to look at the dog. “I’m going to buy you the best meal ever. Then we’re going to find an animal doctor to fix you up as good as when you were a pup. Six of the eight gods know we can afford the best with that gold.”

  Tyler said, “You know, we were set up pretty well with all we’d saved over five years, enough to buy that small farm we spoke of. What we took from the Cabots was twice that much, no, it was probably ten times that much. Each of the three pouches those fishermen had was at least that much again, and then that huge sack from the tree stump.”

  “We have enough to buy a small town,” Bender said, cutting him short.

  “Or more question. What in the world will we ever do with that much gold?”

  Bender said, “I have a few ideas.”

  “Do they involve women and ale?”

  “A few of them do. Lots of women and barrels of ale, the good stuff, not the bitter kind.”

  Tyler laughed as he said, “Any more plans?”

  “Farms, and maybe we’ll hide a few coins for hard times, but I do have good plans for some of it. My half is enough to hire men to go back and attack the Cabots. As close as I came to spending a short life digging gold for them, I feel I owe the Cabots to do them damage, especially if I use their money to fund my efforts. You are free to use your half for whatever, but I want to hire an army.”

  “Your own army?” Tyler asked, a grin slipping into place.

  “Just a small one. But you know me. I can’t let someone wrong me and not respond.” Bender wore a grim expression.

  His backpack moved, and Bender’s dragon stuck its head out, the small eyes peering around the boat. It climbed down the side of the backpack using the needle-sharp claws for grips. Reaching the wooden seat beside Bender, it almost fell to one side before the boat shifted enough for it to regain its balance, then it nearly fell to the other side. It screeched in protest, drawing laughs from them.

  The cry woke the other dragon. It raced out and looked around, startled and confused. It spotted Tyler and ran to his side, where it hooked a paw full of claws into his farmer’s pants and used that to steady itself. It sniffed, then moved to the side of the seat and watched the water flowing past. An insect flew past, too close, and in a move too fast to follow, the dragon snapped, and the fly disappeared.

  Bender said, “I tell you they’re growing.”

  Tyler started to object. There hadn’t been enough time for them to grow. They had hatched only a few days earlier. But a second look told him they were larger. If not taller, they were more filled out, fatter. Their wrinkled skin had smoothed out, and the wings were longer and sturdier.

  On impulse, Tyler reached into his backpack and removed the claw. His dragon moved closer. He held it out to Bender’s dragon, and that one moved back and snarled. “Bender, where is your claw?”

  “Inside my pack.”

  Tyler leaned forward and felt for the claw. He held it in front of Bender’s dragon and nothing happened. Then he moved it next to his dragon, and the beast scampered away to the bow of the boat, stood and hissed.

  Bender said, “I guess they got used to the claw they slept with. Why don’t you do something useful? Wash our backpacks.”

  “So, when it’s my turn to row, you’ll just sleep?”

  “At least close the flaps and move them away from me before I puke.”

  He was right, and Tyler knew it. He carried little in his backpack for fear the dragon would eat it, so he scooped water from over the side and rinsed it inside and out. The contents smelled worse when he poured the water out. He turned it inside-out and rinsed it several times in the river before spreading it to dry, then repeated the process.

  Tyler said, “After washing those, I’ll bet there isn’t a fish within a hundred paces of the boat. Even Lucky is pawing his nose, trying to make the smell go away, I think.”

  Bender said without comment, “Better feed them, too.”

  The small animals were searching the boat again, side-by-side, working together, sniffing and pawing at every crack, seam, and corner. The odor of fish from previous owners probably lingered in those places. Tyler opened the pack on his chest and removed a small roast of smoked meat.

  Tearing off a bite, he learned again, that food in his hand was a bad idea when one of them snatched it, and another piece of his palm. “Ow, it bit me again.”

  “Toss the food to them, stupid. What the hell are we going to do when they’re large enough to take your whole hand?”

  “What are we going to do with them, period?”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “Your own army?” Tyler said again as if the words were alien on his tongue. “You really want to raise an army to fight the Cabots? That’s just like you to go overboard. If a timber needs three spikes to hold it in place, you drive in five.”

  “Are you saying you believe we’re even with those fishermen people back there? Or with the Cabots?”

  “Not at all,” Tyler said. “I really like your idea about telling people about those fishermen who sell people to the Cabots and let them have the satisfaction of killing them. But the Cabots are too smart for that. Remember how they guard the other side of the river with bounty hunters? There’s an old saying that says, the golden rule is that those with the gold, rule.”

  “Sure. The Cabots reward the bounty hunters because they have the gold.”

  Tyler smiled. “Yes. Bounty hunters do anything for money, from what I hear. If the Cabots offer a gold piece for every head, they bring to the Cabots, maybe we should offer the same bounty hunters two gold pieces for the head of every Cabot they bring to us.”

  “How many coins do we have?” Bender asked.

  “We’d have to count, but I think over three hundred.”

  Bender’s smile held no humor. “I’m sure they pay much less than a full gold for each head. Probably about two silver rounds. If we double the price they pay, we have enough for a thousand Cabot heads, and we’ll still have gold left over.”

  Tyler watched the dragons eat anything he tossed at them, meat, carrots, and apple slices. The shoreline slipped past as he watched a rich forest devoid of mankind and said, “So we have a two-pronged attack planned. We find towns and villages and spread the word about those fishermen, and we hire bounty hunters to fight the Cabots.”

  “Better make that a three-pronged attack.”

  Sighing, Tyler said, “We’re going back, aren’t we? I knew it. I knew you were going to say that.”

  “But not alone,” Bender said. “Not alone.”

  Tyler tried to withhold a grin but failed. It was exactly what he wanted to do. Bender was right. They’d replaced the silver coins in their purses with gold, which was worth fifty times as much. They were more than fifty times as wealthy as a few days earlier. Instead of small farms, they could afford the best, and they could hire people to work for them a lifetime with one single pouch of gold.

  But they had five fat purses. They also had the heavy sack from the tree that held more than all the rest. They were wealthy beyond their imaginations. Hell, they were the richest people they’d ever known. But what good is owning gold if it isn’t spent? Tyler tossed a small piece of meat between the dragons and felt oddly satisfied when his dragon scrambled first.

  Bender allow
ed the warmth of the sun to soak in, as he listened to the rustle of water running along the hull of the rowboat, and the steady dip and pull of the oars. He liked the motion, the sounds, the implied safety of the river, and being able to see all sides at once. “Ever think of taking a sailing ship?”

  “Taking it, where?”

  “I don’t know. To places, we’ve never been. We could even buy one.”

  Bender’s rhythm with the oars didn’t change. “Have you ever seen a sailing ship, because I haven’t?”

  “No. Not unless you count the one in that painting in an inn I remember. Very pretty. There was a girl I remember, too, if that’s the same place.”

  “The inn where that pretty serving wench paid me so much attention and ignored you? I remember her well.”

  “She was only trying to make me jealous by cuddling up to you, but yes, that one. The painting showed the boats to be so big there were rooms inside with little windows.” Tyler said, concentrating on remembering the details of the painting.

  Bender said, “There were other paintings, too. One had a man with three heads, but I don’t believe it was real any more than I believe in boats so big they’re like houses inside. Use your mind for a change. Boats that big would be so heavy they would sink.”

  “Sink? I don’t like that.”

  “How heavy would a boat that big be? I have been telling you for the last five years to use your common sense. Like now, I just chanced a peek in front of us because you’re not doing your duty. and I think there’s a village up there.”

  Tyler turned to look and said, “Do you think it’s safe to stop? I mean, we’re not that far from where those fishermen tried to capture us.”

  “You might be right. We’ll be careful.”

  As the boat rounded a slight bend in the river, the village came into view. It was larger than expected, at least three streets wide and across, almost a hundred buildings in all. Two large piers extended into the water, and numerous small docks. A wide cargo barge sat at one pier. Men were busy unloading the crates, while more waited on the pier to be loaded. Nobody paid them the slightest attention, which felt reassuring.

  Bender rowed to one of the smaller docks where two other rowboats were tied up. An old man sat on a bench in the shade of the rear of the nearest building, maybe twenty steps away. Tyler grabbed a post holding up the dock with both hands, ready to shove away if trouble came.

  “Good day, sir,” Bender called.

  The old man looked up, his eyes bright and inquisitive. “And to you. We don’t get many boats from upriver . . .”

  The implied questions were obvious from the last of his statement. What are you doing here and why did you arrive from upriver? Tyler waited for Bender, who was the better talker to answer.

  Bender said, “We paid the Cabots a visit.”

  The old man scowled, and his voice took on iron. “I own the dock you’re at and would appreciate it if you moved on. In fact, I insist.”

  Bender, never one to fluster or back down, said, “I didn’t say we had a friendly visit, sir.”

  “Kill any of them?”

  “Yes.”

  “In that case, you’re welcome to tie your boat there at no charge for as long as you like.”

  Bender said, “No disrespect, but for the last few days, any offering to help us ended with someone trying to either kill us or send us to the mines. We’ll just stay here and talk so we can leave in a hurry if that’s no problem.”

  “You’ll want to talk to more’n just me, if that’s your reason for being here.” He used his fist to pound on the wall until the door flew open and a stocky woman stormed out.

  “Send for Judge, Maggie.”

  Her face was red, as if angry at being summoned by the old man pounding on her wall as if it had happened before, but when she found the two of them sitting in the rowboat, she nodded and went inside. The old man said, “My oldest daughter. A might ornery, but she takes after her father.”

  “Who is Judge?” Bender asked.

  ‘Sort of the village leader. Not appointed or anything official, but he runs things around here and will want to talk to you.”

  Bender cast a glance at Tyler and said, “Will he come alone?”

  The old man smirked, then calmed himself. “Probably. But I can see you’re a bit jumpy from your trip while you were up the river. You don’t trust me, and that’s good. But it also says you had trouble, and times being what they are, I don’t blame you.”

  A man as wide as he was tall strode into view. None of his width appeared to be fat. He wore a heavy gray coat and a floppy hat to match. In a rainstorm, the wind wouldn’t blow it off, and water would shed from the long brim sagging all around his head. His thick beard hid the rest of his face. He turned to the old man but said nothing.

  “They came from upriver, they say. Killed some Cabots, if they’re telling the truth.”

  The man called Judge turned to them. “That true?”

  “Yes,” Bender said, adding no more information.

  “Why?” Judge demanded.

  “They wanted us to work their mines. Insisted on it.”

  “Nobody escapes them. Not for years.”

  The statement was an accusation and a request for information at the same time. Bender didn’t sound offended when he said, “I can understand why. It wasn’t easy getting here.”

  Judge moved a few steps closer. “If you have a story to tell, we’d like to hear it.”

  “Why?” Bender asked, being just as blunt.

  “If the two of you made it through, maybe others can. You might know information we can use.”

  “Use?” Bender centered on that one word.

  “We’re hoping to learn about the people they’ve taken, and several of us would like to go up there and kill a few of them ourselves. They took my first wife, we think, and a cousin, and probably five or six friends over the years. We don’t know that for sure, but they all disappeared at one time or another and never returned. The finger is being pointed at them.”

  Climbing from the boat, Bender held out his hand. “I guess we do need to talk.”

  Tyler had an arm around Lucky’s chest, but there were no warning growls, and he felt confident it was safe to tie off the boat and climb out. The man who called himself Judge almost smiled as he escorted them to the rear of an inn, where fruit trees hung heavy with peaches, pears, and several kinds of apples.

  The tables under the trees sat in the shade with dozens of benches and chairs left sitting wherever the last occupants chose to leave them. Two tables were occupied with men eating. Judge took them to a table to one side for privacy, and motioned to sit.

  He said, “I guess something I said caught your attention and approval?”

  Bender nodded but looked at Tyler to contribute for the first time. Bender was the planner and met people easier, but Tyler could talk without offending them. “As you guessed, we have a story to tell. A story to spread all over the river is the better way of putting it.” He glanced at Bender for confirmation to continue.

  Bender said, “The only things that make a good story better are good food, tasty ale, and a pretty girl to serve them.”

  Judge chuckled and said, “If you’re hungry, we have food, and ale brewed by myself, and both will be served by one of my four beautiful daughters.”

  “I suppose that means no bottom-pinching,” Bender said, a touch of pink rising in his cheeks.

  Judge said, “Well, that’s up to the girls, I guess. They don’t need me to protect them, but if you touch a bottom and pull back a stump, don't complain to me.”

  “Food and drink, then,” Bender said, his fist pounding the table. “But if they’re pretty enough I might go for a little pinch.”

  Tyler waited for Judge to show anger, but instead, he laughed. Soon after, the prettiest serving girl Tyler had ever seen, swirled outside carrying a tray that she delivered to another table. Then she swished her hips to their table, her eyes locked on Tyler’
s the whole time. “Want something?”

  “Stew and ale for me,” her father said.

  “The same,” Bender said.

  Tyler just nodded, not trusting his voice. She never took her eyes off him, but as she turned and walked away, she glanced back one last time over her shoulder to make sure Tyler was watching her hips. At least that’s the tale Tyler intended to tell the story.

  “I think she likes me,” Bender said.

  Judge laughed out loud, a deep resonating laugh that invited others to join.

  Bender nodded to Tyler. “Tell him. Start with Queensland invasion and taking over the side of the river held by Unity.”

  “Queensland? Unity?” Judge asked.

  Tyler said, “Upriver, above the section of the river held by the Cabots. We’re deserters, but to be fair, we were forced to fight a war we didn’t ask for, and don’t even know why it was being fought. They gave us no option but to join the fight. But when we found ourselves on the losing side, we left.”

  “I have never heard of Unity and Queensland, but I’ve never been up the river, so that doesn’t count.” Instead of being critical, the Judge said, “Then you ran into the Cabots.”

  “We did. A stroke of luck with a warning kept us free, and were going to try to rescue the miners before figuring out how big the Cabots are.”

  Judge said, “But you made it down the river? I’ve not heard of anyone else doing that for a decade or two.”

  “Well, mostly we went down the river, but we were on land for part of it.”

  The food and drink arrived. The same girl slid bowls and mugs in front of her father and Bender, but she placed the bowl and mug in front of Tyler as if setting down fresh eggs that required her to bend at the waist. The low neckline of her puffy blouse held Tyler’s attention, not the food and ale. Her eyes never left his.

  “Enough of that,” Judge said as he swatted her behind. Then he said to Tyler. “I’ll pay for the ale, as many as you need to tell your story. We have not heard of anyone escaping in so long it doesn’t matter, and want all the current information we can gather.”

 

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