Edward saw a fleeting glimpse of his father’s smiling face in the tangle of leaves in the dim light. Knowing it was simply his mind creating an image of what he thought about, he turned his thinking to the Earl, his father. It was no secret the Earl was disappointed in his eldest son. Even his younger brothers often mentioned it, especially Robert, the sly second son. If Edward died, Robert became Earl in his stead. In the last two years, Robert had been watching Edward far too closely, and a few of his new friends wouldn’t hesitate to murder.
Yes, Robert had watched and spread rumors. Edward hadn’t responded. But that had been Edward before this venture. The old Edward would never have slept outside under a thin blanket loaned to him by a peasant, especially alone. He couldn’t imagine himself tracking a dragon boy in the wild mountains twenty days earlier.
Edward slowed as the sky darkened, but continued at a steady pace and his thoughts churning. He came to a decision. In the future, if Robert continued to live nearby, he would cause more problems. The lies and rumors had already cost Edward embarrassment and laughter directed at him. If the wrong person gained Robert’s ear, a slit throat or mug of poison would be in Edward’s future. It happened all too often to first sons as their brothers seized power.
The trek became torturous in the dark. It wound winding around the base of the hills and mountains and following the river as the road, the path then headed up the side of a steep hill. Instead of dropping down the other side, it veered off and climbed a small mountain. Once across that, it wound along the edge of a steep side of a larger mountain, forcing him to walk over rocks and boulders strewn at the base, most seemingly intent on turning one of his ankles in the dim light. It became as if the trail fought against him, but where the ground permitted, he saw footprints or tracks and continued. He would not turn back and become a failure. A week or month ago, he wouldn’t have even attempted to pursue the dragon boy. But that was another Edward.
He thought as he moved faster and longer than he’d known he could. As the Earl in waiting, Edward held a great deal of power he’d never considered, let alone used. Power, prestige, and gold. All of them his brother had made known he wanted. As soon as he returned, Robert would be sent away to attend either military training or enter the priesthood in some far off corner of the kingdom, or beyond.
What will father say?
Edward gave that idea some further thought as he struggled across the hillside strewn with fallen rocks and stones. Instead of being irate or angry, the Earl would understand and approve. After all, his father also had a brother who now served as an officer in the King’s army. Family tales and rumors hinted that his uncle had attempted to assassinate his father with a dagger on a dark night before being sent off. He had been sent to an academy near far-off Bridgeport, near the Three Islands. No, the Earl wouldn’t be upset, he would probably be pleased with Edward for showing courage and strength. If he was not, Edward steeled himself to fight for his position in the royal family.
In a flash of understanding, he knew why his father had allowed him on this mission. He wanted Edward to grow up. He wanted Edward to react exactly as he had. Anything less would mean that perhaps Robert was a better candidate for the position of Earl. The awareness of the whole picture gave him a comfort he hadn’t felt in years. He lowered his head and trudged on.
A faint noise from ahead, halted Edward in his tracks. It was a voice carried on the evening air, from directly in front of him. He placed one foot in front of the other and gently put weight on it to test if a branch or stick lay under. One small step followed by another. And another.
Smoke drifted to him. Just a trace of a campfire.
A few more steps and the small fire came into view beyond the crest of a slight rise. It was built in a tiny clearing against a short cliff, barely taller than a man. Three bodies huddled close to the fire, talking softly. Their bedrolls lay a few steps away.
Edward paused and watched. They talked, and one tossed a few more sticks on the fire. Another turned as if peering deeply into the forest looking almost right at him. He realized the face was that of an old woman, familiar and unknown at the same time. He’d seen the woman in Nettleton.
He waited and watched them without edging closer. The other two were nearly the same size, but even their actions while sitting, were those of children instead of mature people. The one sitting closest to the old woman had his back to him, but the other turned to respond to something another said. The small fire danced light off his face. Edward had never seen him, but he matched the description given to him. It could be the dragon boy. The age looked about right. Finally, the third person stood and turned his way. It was another boy matching the description.
The sheriff had warned him to observe the bare back of the wild boy and see if the image of a dragon was on it. His orders were to observe the drawing of the dragon without the boy knowing, but now that the boy was escaping into the mountains the rules changed. The boy already seemed alerted. Edward couldn’t think of a way to see his back and remain hidden when the boy was living as usual, but it seemed an impossible task, now. The sheriff had probably wanted him to observe it secretly and report back so that he could travel to Nettleton, and capture the boy himself, taking all the credit, as usual. He had just wanted confirmation before making the trip.
The days when officials like the sheriff took advantage of Edward were gone. With the new Edward, the sheriff would be subject only what little credit for the deed Edward offered. He would accept the crumbs falling from Edward’s beard and like them. It was a fair trade for the payment of the embarrassment concerning the circus that followed him to Nettleton, at the hands of the sheriff. Capturing the dragon boy would give Edward unlimited power over the sheriff, and a favor owed from the King and his father, the Earl.
The knife found its way into his hand as he watched them ready themselves for the night. Wait until they sleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The two masters working for the King rode their horses hard. Both leaned low over the necks of their mounts, moving with the horses to ease the pain of their running. Each man held the reigns of another horse that raced behind, as they traveled up the valley on the King’s Road. An observer might be undecided if they saw anger or fear in their eyes. However, there was no doubt that it was one or the other. Perhaps both.
The horses pounded on until the mount the Weapons Master rode, stumbled and lay on the road, unable to rise. He climbed off and said, “Change horses.”
Soon they were riding again, the tired mounts left behind for any who found them. They came to the place where the dragon had attacked the soldiers and dismounted. The Slave Master said, “A detail of the King’s mounted men attacked by a dragon. When was the last time anyone uttered those words?”
“A dragon! The boy we chase called it down to protect him.”
“Probably. The King will have many men riding this road until he’s captured. Do you know what I’m thinking?”
“The King sent others to close the road at the pass and capture the boy instead of us? No, to kill the boy in case we fail?”
The Slave Master sadly shook his head. “He does not trust us. The King wants the boy dead. Not captured. I think we have someone else in our game besides our King.”