by LeRoy Clary
Tyler talked between bites of hot stew made with an unfamiliar meat, and spices he didn’t know. The more he ate, the hotter his tongue burned, and the more ale he drank. It didn’t take long to figure out why the spices were added by the innkeeper. No doubt the inn made most of their money from ale served to quench mouths burning from eating their food.
Judge listened with minimal interruptions until his eyes went wide and his chair tipped over backward in his rush to escape the creature that crawled from Bender’s backpack. He wasn’t alone. Additional people had wandered in for the mid-day meal, and at least ten fought to put more distance between themselves and the monster, leaving their friends to be eaten first.
The dragon had climbed out of the backpack onto the bench that Bender sat on, but it smelled the food on the table and leaped up. Following its nose, it darted to the almost empty bowl and began licking the inside. Then it stood tall, sniffed and looked at the mug of ale.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Bender said, grabbing his mug an instant before the dragon reached it.
“What is that thing?” Judge whispered.
“A dragon. A chick, only a few days old.”
A voice in the crowd said, “It’s a black. That’s a fighting dragon. I saw them when I fought for King Henry.”
Judge said, “Is it safe?”
Bender said confidentially, “Between us, we’ve only been bitten three or four times. In three days, so what do I know?”
Tyler said, “To be fair, that one has bitten me twice, and I don’t trust it. The other one has only bitten once, and I think Bender deserved it that time.”
“Did not.”
“You did too.”
“What other one?” Judge demanded.
Tyler slipped his backpack off and reached inside. The small dragon was still asleep, but at his touch, it awoke and roared in protest, or what constituted a roar that emerged as a thin screech. The dragon glanced around and found the other eating from a second bowl. It leaped up and shoved the first out of the way and began cleaning up what little stew remained.
Bender’s dragon leaped from the table and sniffed as it explored. Finally, very near the middle of the flagstone patio, it stopped. With the eyes of more than a dozen people watching, it squatted and crapped a massive pile of soft black goo. When the stench reached the villagers, they all backed off a few more steps.
Bender said, “I suppose you’ll want me to clean that up?”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Judge said, “If you don’t clean it, we’ll have to close down our patio for the summer. What the hell are you two doing with a pair of identical dragons?”
“Not identical,” Tyler said quickly. “Mine’s prettier and more ferocious.”
“Do either of you ever answer a question directly?” Judge yelled.
Bender looked at Tyler and shook his head. Tyler shrugged and said, “No, I don’t think so.”
“You said you were in the army! The army teaches discipline.”
Bender said, “But we didn’t say we were very good at being in the army, did we?”
Tyler added, “If we gave you that impression, we need to correct it. The truth is, we tried to get out of every work assignment they gave us, and we only fought in one battle. The rest of the time, we managed to get assigned to the rear on some detail or another. We were very good at locating the best wine and most expensive tramps for the officers.”
Bender picked up when Tyler slowed, “It’s not like we spent all our time in the stockade. Just more than most, and always when we knew a battle was coming. The stockade is the safest place to be during them.”
Judge stepped closer, “Stop it. Shut up and clean that mess and put those things on leashes or something.”
Tyler’s dragon leaped off the table that now held nothing left to eat, flapping his tiny wings, it ran to the other side of the patio where it took a dump that shamed the other dragon, in both size and smell. Someone in the crowd gagged, and another man ran into the edge of the trees and puked.
The dragons pranced around the patio, sniffing everything and scaring the people. Tyler hadn’t seen the serving girl since she brought the food. The dragons snapped up any food that had been dropped or abandoned, and one discovered the peaches on the ground were edible. After eating three, pits and all, it looked up and found more hanging from the branches. It leaped but couldn’t reach the hanging fruit. Tyler had a horrible premonition about their next crap.
Tyler said in his friendliest voice, “Listen, Bender, while you’re cleaning up after yours, do you mind getting the mess for this one, too?”
Bender stood. “I need a shovel and water. Lots of water.”
Someone pointed to a shovel leaning against the back of the building. Bender retrieved it and held his breath. He scooped the first pile and headed away from the patio. A voice called, “Don’t put it near any trees. It’ll kill them.”
Bender flung the shovel-full onto the forest and returned. He handed the shovel to Tyler to use, as a large bucket of water was set beside him. A well must be close, which made sense for the inn. Once the patio was rinsed clean and the stench reduced to a very bad smell, they sat again. Judge across from them, his eyes locked on the dragons.
Judge asked, “How often do they do that?”
“That’s the first I’ve seen,” Bender said.
He looked like he didn’t believe them. His attention shifted to Lucky. “What’s wrong with your dog?”
Tyler gave the dog a friendly pat on his shoulder and said innocently, “What’re you talking about?”
“Is it sick?”
“Nope. This is an example of what the Cabots do to people, but worse. We sort of saved him from them—or the other way around. We’re not sure.” Tyler explained.
Judge settled back and nodded. “Oh, I think I get it, now. They gave you drugs to keep you there and to make you work. This conversation is the result of those drugs.”
Bender shook his head. “Nope. Never even passed the time of day with a Cabot.”
“But you killed two?”
Bender looked at Tyler.
Tyler shrugged, “More like twenty, I think. But it’s hard to be sure.”
“Twenty?” Judge blurted out, his disbelief obvious.
Tyler said, “Well, not all at once. But if you don’t mind, I’d like to skip ahead in the story a bit to the reason why we stopped here. After we had made it past their last trap, we stole a boat, and they chased us downriver. We killed two or three more in boats with arrows, then left them all behind.”
“That’s how you come to be here?” Judge asked.
“No, there’s more. We found a dock upriver, a small rickety one. It will probably take half a day to reach it, maybe a little less. It’s the only one up there.”
“I know the place. A family has a nice farm nearby. They sell eggs and a smoked ham now and then to those on the river. Good people.”
Tyler glanced at Bender but said, “Not so good. They tried to capture us. It seems they sell more than eggs and hams. They sell people to the Cabots. They also watch for any of us who think they’ve escaped the Cabots and take them back to them for a reward.”
Judge’s face hardened. “You’re sure about that?”
“They tried to take Bender after hitting him on the head, and fought us. They’re big and strong, all the sons.”
Judge was on his feet, his face red. “You have to be sure before making accusations like that. You can hurt good people with lies.”
Bender casually pulled a sack of coins from his waistband and poured gold coins onto the table. A collective gasp sounded from all in eyesight. On the table was more gold than in the entire village, and probably the next. Bender didn’t have to tell them that there was more, and didn’t.
He said, “One of those coins is worth about ten thousand eggs, I’d think. And a lot of smoked hams. We took it from the father after we killed him and one of his sons. We questioned another, and he admitted it all. H
e said they’d captured people along the river for years. They sold them, too. The Cabots paid them well for doing it.”
Judge drove a fist into his palm with a loud smack as others in the growing crowd grumbled. A stubby man stepped forward. “Did you see any of them? The people the Cabots took?”
“No, just that they catch some and sell them to the Cabots to work the mines,” Bender said. “The good news is that many may still be alive in those mines—if you want to help us go back and kill a few more of them. We’re willing to use that gold we took for supplies, food, weapons, and even hire a small army.” Bender turned and looked to the stubby man.
“I’ll go, with or without you,” he snapped. “They took my wife two years back.”
“You don’t know that,” a new voice said. “Not for sure. You only have the word of these two strangers.”
The short man spun on the speaker. “What I do know is she was with her cousin the day they disappeared. They went fishing. Upriver.”
A silence spread over the crowd. Heads turned to look at others. One of the few women in the group said, “My son, Timor, disappeared while deer hunting two years ago. You all know that. He went along the river bank north of here because he said nobody but one family lived up there and the hunting would be easy.”
Someone shouted, “I say we burn their farm.”
“Done that already,” Tyler said. “But we didn’t kill them all. I suspect those who are left alive are fleeing, but should be easy to trail.”
“They can’t run fast enough,” a tall man said. “They sold a friend of mine, and other people I know.”
“I’ll go with you,” a voice said.
“And I can track better than any of you. Let me grab my bow,” a third voice growled. The crowd diminished as several men left to gather their things. By dusk, the villagers would be upriver at the farm. Tyler and Bender sat silent until the group departed.
Tyler spoke without looking at Bender, “Did we do the right thing?”
The girl with the food and ale returned with a full mug for Tyler, only Tyler, and she served it with a full smile. She asked her father and Bender if they wanted one, too. While Tyler winked secretly at her with the eye only she could see, the others agreed to drink another mug.
Tyler found himself liking the village. The fruit trees providing shade and fruit for the patrons to eat was a welcome idea. The spicy food ensured they drank plenty, and they were able to swap stories with both the villagers and those passing through along the river. He would mention the idea to Bender. They would make excellent innkeepers, make the best ale and test it themselves, and hire the prettiest girls, all while earning a tidy profit.
The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. Perhaps Judge could pass on a few suggestions, but Tyler had already thought of a name for them. The Dragon Inn. Or, Drag-On-Inn. He liked the pun and was sure Bender would too.
He tried to calm himself, saying it was probably not his greatest idea. Yes, it was. But they had the gold to spend and only needed to find a great location, learn to make ale, and attract people. Still, they had another task before building their inn. They would defeat the Cabots.
Judge said, “You two sure have a knack for stirring up trouble. By morning, I expect that posse to return and confirm your story, not that I have doubts, but others will. Before all that happens, I’d like to hear the rest of your story.
Bender took over again, telling of the slot in the log jam as the only opening in the dam, the watchtowers located in the hills, and the hound dogs sniffing out intruders. Bender talked until almost dark when they ate again. By now, word of them had spread to the entire village, and most of the residents sat at the inn slapping mosquitoes and sipping ale as they listened to part of the story.
Nearly a hundred people were there and only asked a few questions. All of them were shocked to hear about what took place only a day’s walk north. Everyone knew of missing people, and the chance to return some of them home had everyone from boys just ten, to men near eighty planning to join whatever Bender and Tyler were up to involving the Cabots.
The villagers didn’t need details. Not yet. But they were the most dangerous members of the crowd. They were the angry, quiet ones. Those who didn’t need to brag or pump each other up. If Bender asked the group to travel that night, most of the men and several of the women would quickly gather their things.
Bender asked, “What’s downriver?”
“Trenton.”
“What is that?”
“A city. It’s where the Alma River meets the Tamar,” Judge explained.
Tyler said, “No, down this river, the Middling.”
Puzzlement crossed several faces. Someone whispered, “This is the Tamar.”
Bender said, “Same river different names. How big is Trenton?”
“Big,” Judge explained, holding his arm out as if that explained how many people lived there.
Bender went on, “If I went to Trenton, could I hire a hundred good men to fight the Cabots?”
A woman’s voice said, “You won’t have to hire anyone who’s lost, family or friends. You might have to pay them to hold off attacking until you’re ready.”
“But, I could hire a hundred men?” he persisted. “Is its populations large enough to have that many men available?”
“You could hire a thousand if you had the gold,” a man sitting on a nearby table declared. “That pile in front of you would probably hire two thousand.”
Bender stood. “Okay, then that’s what we’ll do. I don’t want anyone running up there and tipping the Cabots off or getting killed. Let’s organize and attack like an army. We’ll get back as many friends and family who are slaves as we can, and we’ll crush the Cabots.”
Judge said, “One request. I want the leaders alive, if possible. I want to parade them in front of the people they brought misery to. Can you grant me that?”
“If you grant me two things in return.”
“What?” Judge asked warily.
Bender pulled his dragon claw from his backpack and held it up. “I want a craftsman to make a hole in this so I can wear this around my neck, and one for Tyler, also. I also want whoever treats your sick animals to work on our dog. Lucky’s had a hard time lately, and he needs some attention.”
Judge said, “You might want a heavy chain to hold that damn thing, and maybe a boy of ten or so to carry the claw around for you. I suppose you have a story to go with it?”
“Now that you asked,” Bender said with a smile. “Pour me another mug of ale, and I’ll tell it to you about the day we fought a raging Black in a cave. Before you ask, yes, I was a hero that day. Let me tell you how it all started.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Two days later they were ready to travel downriver with a small group of men willing to show them the way and help recruit an army. Lucky still wore salves and bandages, and his hair was sprouting in most of the bare places. He still had only one ear, but the ragged edged of the ear a baby dragon had bitten off was healing. A woman had bathed him and applied the medications as if he was one of hers.
The villagers brought chickens, scraps from butchering, and other food for the dragons. Bender offered to pay for all they ate, but the villagers would have none of that. While nobody ever got close enough to touch the creatures, they stood at a distance and watched, laughing and enjoying their antics as they chased a flower waving in the breeze, or snapped at a honeybee and cried out when stung.
They were also smart enough to tie up their dogs, and kept all animals inside barns or sheds where possible. More than once, the pair of dragons had eyed a red ox at the edge of the village. Although a hundred times their size, they sensed a good meal standing right in front of them. The way to keep them from attacking local farms was to feed them often.
Tyler watched his dragon standing next to a chicken and realized it was now half again as big as the bird. It would barely fit into his small backpack anymore. During another a ten-day
period, itt would outgrow it. Maybe in half that.
They were traveling the river in three boats. Judge had offered to keep the dragons and Lucky at the village during the trip, but they didn’t think it a good idea. The result was that nobody wanted to be in the same boat with them. They found themselves back in the same rowboat, with two hungry dragons and a battered, but healing dog.
The dragons refused to remain confined in the backpacks. They climbed out and explored every nook and cranny of the boat, watched birds flying overhead, and endlessly watched the ripples of water pass by, but they never jumped over the side. They ate anything, and all that was fed to them. They weighed as much as a small dog.
Tyler said as he watched Bender row, “They need names, you know.”
“You’ve already said that.”
“Any suggestions?” Tyler persisted.
“I suppose that naming them Bender and Tyler would be too confusing, not for you and me, but for others.”
“If we did that, I’d just know to direct anything intelligent or interesting at the dragon named Bender.”
“Ha. That was not a laugh. I was clearing my throat.” Bender continued rowing steadily, but a smile filled his face.
“Names. We need good names. Not cute one, because these things are going to grow to the size of houses, so we need names that they will grow into.”
Bender grinned his evil grin, the one where he was about to insult Tyler. “We don’t even know if they are males or females, so how are you going to name them?”
“By calling them names that don’t determine sex, like Thunder, Rage, or whatever.”
Bender pulled a few more strokes, then smiled, as he said, trying to sound serious, “Thunder. I like that. My dragon is now called Thunder, so you need to come up with a good name for yours. I wish you’d take this seriously because our dragons do need names.”
He’s done it to me again. “Rage. Because that’s how I feel right now. Those were just examples, and you know it.”