dragon archives 05 - forever a dragon (12 page)

“Thank you, Master.”

“You travel to the Northern Mountains?”

“I do.”

“Well, I’m sure you have a swift mount to get you there quickly.”

A glimmer of a smile played around Zach’s lips. “Indeed,” he said. “Enjoy your travels, and I look forward to renewing our games of chess when classes resume.” He paused a moment. “If you see any dragons, keep an open mind. Truth has many facets.” He nodded, and left the room.

The day before he was due to set out, Lleland made his way across the city to Anabel. He had not mentioned his plans for the summer, but with the moment at hand, he needed to tell her that he would be gone until September. He sat down in the small parlor across from her and asked her about her week. They chatted for a while, until Lleland brought up the reason for his visit.

“I’ll be going away for a while,” he said. “I’m traveling north. I leave tomorrow.”

“Exploring again,” she said with a smile. “How far do you go?”

Lleland shrugged. “Perhaps as far as the mountains.”

Anabel’s face paled. “The Northern Mountains. It’s said there are dragons in the mountains.”

“I’m not going to hunt dragons, Mother.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Then why are you going?”

“I’ve never explored that region of the kingdom.”

“You’re not going to look for dragons?”

“I want to discover more about them.” He thought of Zach. “Perhaps there’s more to learn.”

“Please, Lleland, be careful. Dragons are dangerous – sometimes in ways we cannot imagine.”

Lleland laid his hand over hers. “Nothing will happen, I give you my word,” he said.

“If only it were within your power to keep it,” she whispered. “But you won’t even recognize the danger until it’s too late!”

“I’ll take great care, Mother.” He rose to his feet. “I must go. But I promise to return, safe and sound.”

Anabel nodded. “I’ll pray for you every night,” she said.

Chapter 13

The new day promised clear, sunny weather as Lleland slung his cloak around his shoulders, hefted his quiver onto his back and lifted the strap of his satchel over his arm. He wore a new pair of sturdy brown leather boots that would withstand a pounding on the hard, dirt roads, and a straw hat which would offer protection from both sun and rain. A small dagger had been tucked into his boot, and his bow was in his hand. After much internal debate, he had decided to leave his sword and staff, aware that they’d be more to carry. His skill with the bow should give him ample protection, and he kept a dagger tucked in his boot. He stepped into the road and headed along the busy streets in the direction of the north gate, leading over the river. He glanced back at the city when he reached the far bank, then putting his back to Civitas, started striding along the road that led to the Northern Mountains.

Lleland maintained a brisk pace throughout the day, stopping only to have a bite to eat and a drink of watered-down ale from his canteen. The road was well worn from people hauling produce into the city from the countryside each morning, and he weaved his way between women hefting crates of eggs and workmen dragging carts filled with carrots, peas and an assortment of fruit. Chickens squawked from covered baskets. Even children did their share, carrying bundles of kindling. As the day wore on the crowds thinned, and as the sun was beginning to near the horizon he saw a small town in the distance. He knew there was an inn on the town’s northern outskirts, and Lleland stopped outside The Dancing Hind an hour later. The inn bordered the courtyard on three sides like a horseshoe, and on the opposite side a wide, double door stood open, beyond which patrons could be seen gathered around long trestle tables. Lleland stepped through the doors and looked around until he espied the innkeeper in his leather apron. He waved at the man, who ambled over with a frown.

“I need a bed for the night,” Lleland said.

“Where’s yer ’orse?” the man said. He was short and rotund, with a balding head.

“I walked.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “Ya got coin?”

“Of course!”

“’Coz I don’t got no bed for a thief.”

“I’m not a thief! I’m a scholar.”

“A scholar, hmm? But ya walked ’ere? No ’orse?”

“As you see, I have no horse. Surely I’m not the only traveler on foot!”

“Most people ’ave a ’orse.”

“I have no horse.” Lleland glanced around. The inn, while clean, was neither grand nor luxurious. “Now do you have a bed or not?”

“Only if you show me yer coin.”

Lleland sighed in frustration. “I’ll show you my coin when you show me your room!”

The man gave Lleland another scrutinizing look, then nodded. “Follow me.” He took a candle from a shelf and led Lleland outside, up some stairs at the far end of the building, and along a dingy passage before pushing open a door. “’Ere yer go. A penny for the bed and two more if ya want food. ’Nother ha’penny if ya want wine.”

Lleland stepped inside and glanced around. There were a half-dozen beds, three on each side of the room. Next to each was a wooden chest, and in the corner stood a small table with a basin and jug. A man sat on one of the beds, and he glanced at Lleland, his eyes narrowing slightly when he saw the bow. Turning away, Lleland dug a copper penny from his purse and tossed it to the innkeeper. “For the bed. I’ll eat here, so send up a plate of food with a glass of wine, and I’ll pay for it when I’m done.” The man fingered the coin, then with a nod, left the room, taking the candle with him. Choosing one of the beds, Lleland dropped his satchel and bow onto the floor as the other man looked at him.

“Think I’ll steal your things if you leave them unattended?” he said.

Lleland shrugged. “Only a fool would trust a man he’s never met before.”

The man laughed and rose to his feet. “I’m Adam,” he said, walking towards the door. “So now we’ve met!” He slipped out of the room, and Lleland watched as the door closed, before sitting down on the bed and slowly easing off one of his boots. The leather the shoemaker had used was soft and supple, but still, twenty miles of walking had taken its toll. He groaned slightly as he flexed his toes, then eased off the other boot, carefully placing them beneath the bed where they were not easily spotted. New boots might prove too much of a temptation for someone with light fingers. He lay down on the lumpy mattress and closed his eyes, and in a moment dozed off.

A soft scraping next to his bed brought Lleland awake with a start. For a moment he was confused. The sun had set, and the room was dark, with just a glimmer of moonlight coming in through the open window, but in the next instant he was alert as he felt a movement beside him and saw a dark shadow rummaging through his belongings. He shot out his hand and smiled grimly when he heard a grunt. He started to rise from the bed, but the thief was not to be taken easily. A swinging fist caught Lleland above the ear, and he loosened his grip as pain shot through his head. In the next instant the thief was running, but Lleland immediately gave chase. The thief was quick and nimble and had the advantage of a clear head, but as he slipped out the door, the moon caught his face for an instant, and Lleland recognized his roommate, Adam. He clattered down the stairs, then swung over the rail and ran into the dark night. With a growl, Lleland made his way back to the bed. His purse still hung at his side, and a quick check assured him that nothing had been taken. He sat down on the bed and pulled on his boots as a knock sounded on the door.

“Aye,” Lleland said, looking up as a maid pushed open the door, a tray in her hands. “The master said ta brung yer food ’ere,” she said.

Lleland relieved her of the tray. “Please send up your master. A man just tried to rob me. And fetch a candle, please.” He withdrew a farthing and gave it to her, and she bobbed a quick curtsey before hastening away. It took a while for the innkeeper to arrive, and when he did so, he was scowling.

“Wot’s this ’bout a thief?”

“The man who was here when I arrived. He tried to rob me as I slept,” Lleland explained.

“’Ow you know it was ’im?”

“I saw him.”

“Thought ya said yous was sleeping.”

“I was,” Lleland said. “I woke while he was robbing me. I tried to catch him, but he escaped.”

“Ya didna give chase?”

“And leave my things here so he could circle around and rob me while I was chasing a ghost? Don’t be a fool, man!”

“Aye, well, he’s prob’ly long gone.”

“Did you make him pay in advance, too?” The man looked away in discomfort as Lleland snorted. “You make the honest man pay, and let the thief get away.” The innkeeper looked back with a scowl.

“Well, I didna know he’s a thief, did I now? And ya betta not be making any trouble, either.”

“I’ll be gone by first light,” Lleland assured him.

The maid had brought Lleland a meal of cold beef, bread and cheese, which he ate hungrily. The wine was sour and had been watered down, and he swallowed it with a grimace before wiping his sleeve across his mouth. As he ate, two more guests were brought to the room, but Adam didn’t return, and no items remained in the box next to his bed. The innkeeper was probably right and the man was long gone.

The rest of the night passed without incident, although Lleland slept with his boots on, his bow and arrow at his side, and his hand on his satchel.

Chapter 14

Lleland spent the first few hours of the next day exploring the small town, but there was little to discover that interested him. It did not have a market, and although The Dancing Hind had stood on the same spot for nearly two hundred years, there was nothing to mark it as different to any other inn. By mid-morning Lleland was back on the road, continuing his journey north.

The days where there was nothing to investigate, Lleland traveled about twenty miles. The countryside was flat, with open fields and sheep dotted across green hillocks bleating plaintively as he walked by. Farmhouses could be seen from the side of the road, and often a farmer would wave Lleland over to share the latest news.

“Comin’ from the city, are ya?” they would ask. “What’s happening there, then?” And Lleland would tell them about the king, and the grand new palace he planned to build, the troubles merchants were having with taxes, and the fire that had burned a ship in the harbor. In return, the farmer would have his wife pack some food, and would share a tankard of ale before sending him on his way.

As the distance between Lleland and the city increased, so the towns and roadside establishments become less frequent. A few times Lleland sought shelter within the humble walls of a monastery. The furnishings were sparse and the meals meager, but the beds were clean and comfortable, with quilts to keep the sleeper warm. As payment for their hospitality, Lleland would hunt a deer in the surrounding woods which he delivered to the kitchens. Other times, the only roof over Lleland’s head was the leafy canopy of a rowan or the spreading branches of beech or horse chestnut. At these times, his satchel served as a pillow and his cloak as a blanket. He collected herbs along the way that could prove useful on his journey – St. John’s Wort, for the cleansing of open wounds, and yarrow to stop bleeding.

He had been on the road for a week when he awoke to rain: a heavy, drenching downpour that continued all day. The rain collected in the brim of his hat and dripped into his eyes, and the clothes beneath his cloak were wet. The road turned to mud as he walked, and rivers of water cut across the path, filling the ruts and seeking the ditches. It was late afternoon when the sun finally pushed the dismal clouds away and opened the world to blue skies. The ground was sodden, and Lleland’s boots squelched through a morass of mud. He continued until it was dark, hoping to find an inn where he could procure a dry bed and hot meal, but no buildings rose to greet him, and he saw no other travelers. The moon was already high when he finally turned off the road and looked for a place to make a bed for the night. A low stone wall ran alongside the road, and climbing over it, he felt the ground on the other side. It was damp, not sodden, and Lleland spread out his cloak and lay down.

He passed an uncomfortable night, but when he awoke the sun was shining brightly. A sound near his ear had him reaching for his dagger, but he relaxed a moment later when he saw a sheep staring at him placidly as it chewed a clump of grass. He stretched his arms and his cramped muscles protested at the effort. Picking up his belongings, he climbed over the wall. His cloak and hat were still wet, but he pulled them on, knowing they would dry quickly. His boots were also damp and the leather was tight around his feet, chafing his heels and toes. He had spent the night at the base of a small hill, but he easily gained the summit and looked down at the vista before him with a groan.

A quarter mile away lay the town of Roxton, nestled in the valley. He could see the church with its squat stone tower, and further down the road lay an inn built around a cobbled courtyard. It gleamed in the clean air as hostlers scurried about, carrying loads of hay and leading horses to their well-rested travelers. The town was small, but it had once been a Roman settlement, and the road into Roxton passed beneath the ruins of an ancient Roman aqueduct built of stone. The tall arches towered overhead, and Lleland could not help gaping at the impressive feat of engineering. A trickle of water, caught in the fold of Lleland’s hat, spilled over the brim and down his neck. Dropping to the ground alongside the road, he pulled out his daybook and made some notes, before continuing into the town.

The Clearbrae Inn was not much further, and he stopped for a meal and an ice cold cup of ale. The ale, he learned from the innkeeper, was stored in a pool behind the inn. Hidden behind trees, the warmth of the sun never reached the pool’s cold depths, making it the ideal place to store casks of wine and ale.