Dragons of Summer Tide (The Dragons of Hwandor) (12 page)

“
Veer, wake up,” Shira said softly as she gently shook him with the hand that she already had on his shoulder. As his eyes fluttered open he looked confused. “You’ve been asleep for a little more than an hour, but we need to move. We’re going to go back and get our horses and things and find a place to camp. It’ll be night soon.”

“Oh, alright. I didn’t mean to fall asleep, sorry
,” the young man said as he began to sit up. The sleeping dragon also wakened and began to stir. Veer looked around at the scene of the recent battle and remembering the fight he felt like he was going to be sick again. Instead he staggered to his feet.

Drace also slowly got to his feet and stood unsteadily for a few moments before seeming to also figure out where he was and what had happened. The fighting dragon was covered in
a muck of sand, pine needles and leaves which stuck to him by the gore of man and horse alike.

The last to struggle to its feet was the little dragon that had been recently freed. It had been weakened by those ropes and whatever poison was on them. The small dragon was so unsteady in its feet that the larger Cyool
knelt down beside it in order to help it remain standing. Corth eased over to the side of the small dragon and kneeled down. Cyool helped the weakened animal crawl onto the back of the taller lanky pony sized Corth. After a few minutes the small party was ready to move and started to slowly ascend the ridge to cross back over to the other side where the horses and supplies were left.

At the top of the ridge
Veer found his long bow where he had dropped it when he had become enraged. He felt very ashamed to have dropped and forgotten the bow. Even if he needed to make a stronger one soon that bow was the pride of the Hillfolk and losing ones bow through carelessness was considered a serious mistake. Shira, being Hillfolk raised herself, pretended not to notice.

At the bottom of the ridge they found their horses still waiting for them. After a few more minutes they were in a
little clearing beside a small but quickly flowing clear stream. Without discussion they all knew that this would be home for a night and they unsaddled the horses and put their packs on the ground. The clearing had enough grass in it to feed the four horses for one evening. Drace slowly walked into the shallow stream and began to roll like a horse does in the grass. Scraping his body against the gravel and stones of the stream he was soon clean as the water washed the gore away downstream. As soon as the dragon finished Veer went in the stream and started to wash himself clothes and all stripping of his clothing piece by piece, washing each piece of clothing and throwing it up onto some bushes beside the stream. The water was cold but it helped give him back his energy. Shira unpacked a blanket and tossed it onto the rocks near the stream.

“Tonight we have a fire, I’m tired of cold camps
,” said Cyerant as he walked into the woods to get wood for a fire. His dragon Corth followed him into the trees.

“If there’s going to be fire then fresh meat will be good.” Shira said as she picked up her bow and stalked into the forest along the stream. Cyool immediately took wing and raised herself up just above the trees and slowly flew in the direction ahead of Shira.

Naked and wet, Veer climbed out of the stream and dried off with the blanket which he then spread over a bush to catch the last rays of the sun which was soon to set. Veer went through his pack and found a change of clothes and quickly dressed. Then he picked up one of the baskets and headed into the woods to gather edibles. Herbs and tubers were plentiful this time of year in the forest and soon Veer had filled his basket and was returning to camp. He could smell the smoke that said Cyerant was already back and had started a fire. As Veer entered camp he could see the two small pots of water already next to the flames warming. A few minutes later Veer had washed the herbs, peeled the roots and added them with some mushrooms to the pots to cook.

There was a screech overhead and the two men looked up to see Green Eyes rip a squirrel out of a tree top and send it falling to land dead beside the small dragon who was so very weak from the ropes. With a weak call toward the sky the smaller dragon began to eat the squirrel.
Veer had noticed that neither Drace nor Corth were in camp and since he could feel the hunger pains in his stomach lessening he knew that Drace had killed something and was eating it. He assumed that Corth was out in the forest doing the same thing.

Both men could hear the approach of footsteps along the stream and turned as Shira stepped out into the last few direct rays of sunlight. She had the skinned haunch of a deer over her shoulder. It was a very large haunch so it must have been an enormous buck. Before long the meat was cut into pieces and was roasting over the fire.

“Good hunting to get this so quickly,” Cyerant complimented Shira.

“It wasn’t me. Cyool found it and drove it toward me. If I hadn’t put an arrow into it I would have been run down by it.”

“Tomorrow we have to go back and get the dragons that we left at that field before they get caught,” Said Veer.

“No we won’t have to. They followed us and they are helping Cyool eat the rest of this deer right now
,” answered Shira.

Just then all of the dragons returned to the camp and curled up in various places to sleep. Shira got up and went to the stream carrying a blanket. The young men wisely moved to sit near the fire with their back to the stream and they could hear the girl cleaning her clothes and herself. As she returned wrapped in a blanket the food was ready and the three of them sat to eat. Each one was thinking about the day and the battle and what it had been like to kill men so they ate in silence. Afterwards Cyerant took his turn in the stream with soap and soon returned also wrapped in a blanket.

“We should find a village and buy a change of clothes for you Cyerant. I always carried an extra in my bedroll so I have two sets. And Shira was set to travel so she has some in her packs,” said Veer.

“You need some new ones too.” Said Cyerant. “Shira was noticing today while you slept that your shirts don’t fit you very well any more.”

The girl glared at the young nobleman as her cheeks began to grow hot in the increasing darkness. Soon the sky was a deep blue black scattered with diamonds. The three talked for a bit and without realizing it they all dropped off to sleep without setting a watch. The night passed uneventfully as the young dragons kept their own watch.

The sound of the morning birds woke Veer as usual and he opened his eyes to realize that the sky was just starting to lighten yet there was still some time until actual sunrise. He could feel his muscles ache from the exertions of battle the day before. Having grown up in a small farming village where everyone worked together and having often helped his father in the smithy had made Veer strong and given him great stamina but the battle of the previous day had left him weak and sore throughout his body. Seeing that the fire had long since died Veer grabbed a stick and some kindling and stirred the ashes around looking for a still glowing ember that could be blown back to life. Within a short time there was a small fire crackling and two pots of water starting to warm. As the crackle of the flames woke the other two companions Veer added some oats and berries to one of the pots to simmer.

Veer
noticed that the others were moving slowly, as if they too were sore. “Hurts all over doesn’t it?

Shira answered with a groan that was simple affirmation as she pulled the blanket tighter around herself against the chill of the
night air of the hill country. 

Cyerant pulled his blanket around himself also as he stood and headed for the edge of the brush speaking back over his shoulder. “It shouldn’t be this chilly. It’s still supposed to be summer.”

Veer responded. “You’re not in the flatlands. Night is always chilly in the hills, especially in these hills at the foot of the mountains.”

A few minutes later and Cyerant returned from his walk into the bush and the three of them sat together to eat the oats that were bubbling near the fire. As they ate they discussed plans.

Veer started. “I still have that gold that the ranger gave me.”

“Talenger
,” interjected Shira. “His name, it was Talenger.” 

“That Talenger gave me.”
Veer continued with a slight nod to Shira. “We can find a village along the outer edge of the Wall and buy some supplies. New clothes, maybe some more blankets, some medicines, food and a pot for Cyerant.” He referred to the small iron pot that every hill borne person carried when travelling. The pots were small almost egg shaped and used for cooking, making medicine and boiling water.

“We have to wait here for a while to let our clothes dry from last night. But now the sun is on them it shouldn’t take too long
,” Cyerant said.

“Then we can head back east toward the
Wall and if we angle a little south we can get back into the low hills below where the fight was yesterday.” Added Shira.

Veer thought for a moment and said,
“then that is what we do. We will wait here for a while and when the clothes are dry we will head east but aim to pass below where we were yesterday. Then when we get to the Wall we will ride to the outer edge and go south until we get to a village where we can buy what we need.”

“Yep, we will ride right in with dragons. That should make the locals calm and ready to happily do business
,” Cyerant said with a note of sarcasm.

“People don’t see them as dragons
,” Shira answered him. “Not at first or in passing. They just see something that they expect to see, a bird or a puppy or even a pony.”

Giving the girl an odd look Cyerant asked. “How does that work?”

Veer answered. “We don’t know, magic maybe, but that is what happens.”

By mid afternoon the three companions had reached the low hills of the
Wall and crossed them to their outer edge and were starting to ride south along the outer Wall where the plains meet the low hills. There was a narrow winding road of hard packed dirt snaking north and south. Obviously the traffic on this small road was light but generations of feet and the occasional wagon had left the road clear of grass and only as wide as a single wagon.

“This is called the Edgeway
,” said Veer. “It runs along the edge of the Wall from village to village. Back up north it is sometimes only a foot trail. Down here in the middle it can take a wagon. They say that south of here it becomes a proper road where wagons can pass one another”

“It needs to be better maintained
,” said Cyerant. “How far is it until the next village?

“It can’t be too far
,” answered Shira. “Even back up north the villages along the edge are every few hours but they are tiny. My da always told me that the lower south you go along the Edgeway the more often you see villages and the bigger they get until you make to the lower Wall where they have lots of farms and real towns along the edge of the Wall.”

The companions rode along what was known as the outer
Wall where the low hills turned into gently rolling hills which eventually become flat planes. There was a winding tree and brush line where the forests of the hills met the grasses of the planes. The two seemed to push at one another in the way that the sea and the sand push at one another on the shore. The result was an uneven tree line which seemed to swell and recede as one travelled along winding over and around the gentle hills. To the right was forest and hills growing ever higher until they became mountains, many miles in the distance, while to the left the rolling hills soon flattened into great flat plains, 

“The villages are along here
,” Veer started to explain to Cyerant. “The forest is right there and has good hunting, food and lots of wood. But the grasses can be ploughed up and fields for crops cleared and planted. There are lots of streams coming down out of the hills with good clear water. Every time you find a good stream you will find a village.

“Makes sense
,” Cyerant noted. “Whoever planned this was smart and knew how to manage his people. Establish their villages with good farmland, forests and fresh clean water.

“We are
Hillfolk,” answered Veer indignantly. “We have highland blood and we have no need of flatlander nobles. This wasn’t planned by some flatland lord, it was the folk – we our selves know where to best build a village. We don’t need someone else telling us where we can live.”

“Look there
,” Shira said before an argument could start. The three were rounding a hill and she was the first to see a village ahead near the tree line.  The village was twice the size of the village where Veer had grown up. There looked to be eight or so houses built close together and they could hear the ring of a smith with his hammer. It looked like a normal small village but Veer noticed that the hammer sounded odd with little rhythm.

Like all the villages along the edge of the foothills this one was centred among lots of fields. There were easily a dozen adults out working in those fields and as many more children of various ages out helping their parents. Clearly this was an active little village and the surrounding fields showed the mark of industrious farmers
, and were well tended with full crops not quite ready for final harvest. The track way ahead as it neared the village turned into a well kept lane that was characteristic of these neat Hillfolk villages.

“So do we go into this little village dragons and all or do we send one person in to buy what we need? Asked Cyerant.

“I really don’t think that they will be able to see the dragons,” said Shira.

Veer
took a moment to think things through and said. “Well, we haven’t been able to get rid of the dragons, though I’ve tried, so I guess we are stuck with them following us everywhere. We have to know if people really can’t see them for what they are. So I say we ride toward the village just like we have ponies and dogs with us. If we hear any shouts to sound the alarm then we will ride away and know that at the next village we send in one person with no dragons.”

Cyerant took the lead riding into the village followed by Shira and then
Veer. They cautiously approached the village. Trying not to look nervous because they had so many baby dragons with them, the three move steadily along the lane toward the group of houses and barns.

Farmers around the fi
elds began to look up and saw the strange party of travellers coming south along the lane. Two men and a woman, who as they got closer began to look younger and younger until the farmers could see that the travellers were teenaged. Then there were the dogs, four of them; a small hunting dog, a larger guard dog both looking like older puppies and then some smaller mongrel looking younger puppies. Each of the three people had a horse and there was one pack horse loaded and following along on a lead. Then there was a gangly looking colt following along not on any kind of lead. The colt was at that awkward age where he looked ridiculous with long legs and knobbly knees and a head that was too big for the body. The colt obviously had bloodlines from some large warhorses and was going to grow to be very large someday. With much work left to do in the day the farmers went back to their tasks after looking the party of newcomers over and often calling their children back to work. Children being children became useless and could not keep their eyes on their work so one by one the kids managed to get away and run to the lane entering the village to get a better look at the strangers.

“Cyerant! Cyerant!
Veer called in a loud whisper. “Unstring your bow, like Shira and me so they know that we mean no harm.”

“What other
Hillfolk ways do I need to know about?” Cyerant asked in his own loud whisper.

“Just before we go into the village hold your open hand u
p until one of them does it too,” Shira answered him

Just before they entered the edge of the village a few women came out of the houses and joined the women who had been outside already each standing near her home and several of them raised right hands in response. The children gathered around and got a close look at the travellers and their dogs. Quietly a few of the men had come closer and were watching. Each of them was holding the ever present long bow of the
Hillfolk. The women seemed to Cyerant to be waiting for something.

Shira let her voice ring out to be heard by people ahead. “Peace to all in this welcoming place.”

One of older women gave the traditional response. “Welcome to the peaceful traveller.”

Shira and
Veer immediately dismounted and Cyerant followed suit as soon as he saw this. Four of the older children stepped forward and offered their hands open before them like they were waiting for something. Cyerant started to reach for his purse when Shira gave him a sharp hiss. Shira handed the reigns of her horse to one child while Veer did the same thing with his reigns and with the lead on the pack horse. Cyerant seeing this, reluctantly handed his reigns to the nearest outstretched hand. Four children each leading a horse headed for a different barn.

“Lot of travellers coming through lately
,” sang out a female voice that was melodic even if it had the signs of the weight of age on it. As the three companions turned they saw that the voice belonged to a small woman who obviously was the eldest of those present. Her hair still had some fiery red colour to it though it was also streaked with white. The shimmering white and red of her hair framed a still smooth face and piercing green eyes. Clearly this woman was old enough to be a grandmother but she was still an amazingly beautiful woman. “Most of them have no manners at all, some flatland soldiers two days gone and not a spoonful of sense between them. Asking about you I would imagine.” The woman nodded toward Cyerant. “And some foreigners from away somewhere and looking like bandits and not word to say what they were looking for. Weren’t bandits though, their clothes and equipment looked to nice and too perfect to be real bandits.”

Veer
responded. “We have seen them in our travels and we would avoid the bandits and the soldiers in our passing. Thank you good lady.” Veer continued in what sounded to Cyerant overly formal speech. “These soldiers whisper lies as they search and the bandits have no truth around them.”

Cyerant noticed a medallion hanging around
the neck of the woman and said, “you’re a healer.” At which Shira rolled her eyes.

             
The older woman looked a bit amused but she spoke to Shira first. “Patience is due to those who are trying to learn. At which Veer smirked drawing a sharp look from the woman. Both Shira and Veer gave small apologies to the woman before looking down, both of them embarrassed.  The woman then turned to Cyerant. “Just so, young lord. I was a trained in the university at Beelhuan and taught there until I retired and came back here to my childhood home.”

“What makes you think that I am a noble or that those men were looking for me?”

The woman looked at the young man. “First of all your friend here already confirmed that you are the one they want and that they are lying. They said they were looking for a Hillfolk youth who had murdered a lords’ son and taken his clothes and horse. You are not Hillfolk but you are wearing lords’ clothes and riding a noble horse.” Seeing the growing look of panic sweep across the face of the young noble the woman continued. “Don’t worry your friend also asked that we not share your passing with anyone, and we will not tell any dyerai anything about you. If you are going to travel among highland blooded people you have to learn to listen boy. You have to hear far more than what is being said so listen to how things are said and pay close attention to what isn’t being said.”