Both men spun at the sound, their eyes searching the shadows.
She remained as still as possible.
“See anything?” Bandaged head asked.
“If I did, wouldn’t I say so?”
Camilla fought to control her breathing. They were barely five steps away, but the underbrush was thick and she was partially behind a tangle of vines. Getting so close was a bad idea, but they had been talking about the same things she was wondering about, and she hadn’t wanted to miss a word. Now she might have to flee. She had no doubt she could escape, and Brix along with her, but once they caught sight of her, they would be on guard. Besides, they would report her, and troops would pour into the area because they would think she was the dragon boy they were searching for.
One item stood out beyond all others. The soldier had said there were others of the Dragon Clan living in the Raging Mountains. Others like her? She didn’t know where the mountains were, but it was something she would have to investigate later.
“Probably just a squirrel.” The soldier with the arm in a sling said, but he didn’t turn his back. Both men stood in bright sunlight and peered into the dim depths under the trees.
Camilla could see them without trouble. The eyes of each man looked directly at her more than once but saw nothing.
A third man limped up the road. He called, “Which of you two is hungry?”
One said, “You can relieve me, first. I need this bandage replaced because blood keeps dripping into my eyes.”
Both of them had turned to face the newcomer, and as they did, Camilla stepped back one small step. Then another. And a third. She turned and moved to where her bedroll and staff lay. Brix nodded encouragement, and he took the lead.
The scare passed, but her heart wouldn’t slow. Instead of the conversation between the soldiers resolving anything, it hinted at worse. She was deep in thought when Brix led them onto the King’s Road after looking to his left to make sure they were out of sight of the two sentries, and to the right to make sure nobody was ahead. “We can move fast if you’re up to it.”
Camilla made her own mental check before answering, “Another race for you to lose?”
“Or win.” He was already two steps ahead and grinning over his shoulder like he was the wild boy.
Camilla had sprinted past him before he took another ten steps. She’d tire soon, but the point was made. As expected, thirty steps further and her breath came in gasps as he trotted past her to take the lead again. He also seemed to have a point to make.
Camilla saw him breathing hard too, and with determination, she picked up her speed and managed to pass him with her last effort.
As she slowed, a voice from behind nettles growing head high at the edge of the road said in a familiar voice, “I didn’t think you’d let him win the race, Camilla. But I’m glad you are doing what I asked.”
Robin, the washerwoman, stepped into view, hands on hips, a tentative smile on her lips.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Robin had moved through the forest until she was ahead of the army, slipping through the thick brush growing at the side of the road. Further, from the road would have been safer, but if she was found she’d tell a story about being scared of so many soldiers. It would suffice. The advantage was speed. Twice she saw men, and once heard nearby talking, but couldn’t make out the words. She crept up on their camp long enough to see nearly half the men lay on the ground while others tended to their injuries. Even those on their feet wore bandages. Not one of the fourteen in sight appeared to have escaped the dragon attack unharmed.
When she backed far enough into the depths of the vegetation she turned and moved fast, almost running when possible. Judging she had moved well passed them, she turned and walked to the road, again. Before stepping out onto it, she spent the time to ensure the forward sentries were not in sight.
The road held no footprints of Camilla or her escort. She glanced at the forest. They were either in there or behind her. If they were circling around the soldiers, they’d make their way back to the road at some point. But where?
With a shrug, she turned up the valley again and began running along the road. The thin air and rising road soon tired her, but after walking another hundred paces she ran again, the staff in her hand ready for instant use. She kept watch on the road ahead, as well as glancing down at the footprints. Another walk, another jog. She repeated the process several times, and also kept watch on a particular mountain peak. Below it lay a little-known pass.
Reaching the place where she needed to turn off the road to the other pass, she turned and ran into the underbrush, counting her steps. At three hundred paces she spun around and retraced her path to the road. After making sure Camilla was not on it, she ran three hundred steps on the other side and returned. She felt reasonably certain Camilla hadn’t passed her on either side. At the edge of the road, a granite boulder marked the location.
She positioned herself behind the boulder where she had a good view of the road in both directions, but could duck into the forest, if necessary. Camilla would avoid the soldiers. She had been at the location of the slaughter and wouldn’t want any part of it. Her natural tendencies would make her circle the soldier’s camp, but she’d move warily and slow. Then she would make her way back to the road.
The valley had narrowed. Steep hills lined one side of the road and cliffs on the other. There were only two choices of direction. Up valley or down. Robin couldn’t believe she would go back to Nettleton. The logical answer was that while Robin had slipped past the same soldiers, Camilla had circled around, or went around them on the other side of the road.
For the moment, Robin was safe but uneasy. The longer she waited, the more chance she miscalculated. A flash of color on the road pulled her mind back to reality. Entering the road from the underbrush on the other side of the road were two figures, but even from the distance, there was no mistaking Camilla.
Robin drew a breath of satisfaction. She carefully stood while remaining out of sight behind the boulder. Camilla’s companion walked in step with her, and appeared about the same size, so somehow, she had met up with the boy. When they passed the boulder, Robin would step onto the road and send the other youngster on his way.
As the pair came closer, Robin recognized the boy from Nettleton. He spun twine. Brix. A poor spinner from what the village gossip said, but a good boy. Well liked. She pulled further out of sight and started thinking of a story to tell, one that would not cause alarm in Nettleton, but would send him home.
She peeked around the edge of the boulder at them walking. Camilla carried her staff and didn’t limp anymore. Her movements were sure, and the staff was carried like it had been in her hand since birth. The boy also carried a staff. The wood looked green, the bark recently peeled. He carried his staff in a more awkward manner, but if the tales were true, he was an awkward sort of boy, and it explained the sapling cut down back at the edge of the stream. They broke into a sprint.
Robin stepped onto the road a dozen steps ahead of them. She had her legs spread wide, her staff at her side, her eyes watching for their reaction as they raced each other. Running, as Robin had told her to do.
Camilla instantly broke into a smile and ran to greet her.
The boy raised his staff in a defensive posture before lowering it and waiting.
Robin approved of both of their reactions. She took Camilla by her shoulders, turned her slightly so the boy couldn’t see her lips and whispered. “Does he know anything?”