They followed all the way from Nettleton. They’re not quitting now. Camilla stepped aside to let Brix pass while she gripped her staff tighter. They’d face her first. If nothing else she could delay them. Besides, they were after her, not Brix or Robin. She let the others put a little distance between them, and called, “I’m right behind you.”
After another look behind, she turned to set her pace on Brix, but he had stopped. Robin stood a few steps ahead of him. Both stood completely still. The tangle of brush and shrubs had ended abruptly. Ahead spread a green meadow, the grass grazed low from a herd of sheep who looked on as if they were interested in the three new arrivals.
Between the sheep and Camilla were five people. Four stood behind one, an older man who did not look happy. He wore buckskins and a green hat that blended into the green of the trees. His hair hung to his shoulders, and his beard flared in a hundred directions. He also held a staff held crossways to his body as if to prevent them from passing. He said, in a gruff tone, “Why are you here?”
Robin panted and huffed as she approached. “I didn’t think we’d make it.”
Four of the men held bows fitted with arrows. While none pointed at the three of them, the intent was clear. All were dressed similar to the older man, and family resemblance was clear.
Robin said, her voice clearer as she caught her breath. “I’m Robin. These are my friends. We need help.”
“How did you know about the way into our valley?” the man demanded.
“Pylori and I spent a year together when I was young.”
“Pylori?” The man seemed confused.
“My lover. My man with the beautiful dragon on his back.”
All five responded by their expressions changing and the stiffening of their bodies, but none spoke. All eyes went to the leader, who said, “Describe what you saw.”
Robin stood taller, her chin lifted in defiance as if ready to defend her memories. “It was black. The image of the wings went all the way around his chest until they almost touched, here.” She placed a finger on her breast. She stood tall as if challenging any to deny her statement.
The man who was the leader took a step closer and peered into her eyes. “You are Robin, his friend from long ago?”
“Yes.”
“Pylori spoke well of you. He died in a battle with the King’s men many years ago.”
“I know. You sent one of your people to tell me.”
A tear tracked down his face. He wiped it away as if it irritated him. “Who are those with you?”
Robin looked at Brix. “A spinner’s son who helped us escape the King. He is in danger because of me.”
“Danger from the two men following you.”
“The King’s Slave Master and Weapons Master.”
The old man seemed confused. “The King has appointed a young master?”
Robin glanced at Brix and Camilla, also confused. “No. Something is not right.”
“One of those who follows you is my age. The other cannot yet grow a proper beard.”
“Edward,” Robin said. “What’s he doing there?”
“Son of the Earl? I’ve heard he’s a pompous ass.” He motioned for her to sit on the grass, and as an afterthought motioned for Brix and Camilla to sit, also.
Robin hesitated. “They’re right behind us. You need to protect yourselves.”
“I know about them. My sentry spotted them, and you, of course, late this morning. When he decided you were headed here, he ran ahead and warned us.”
“I didn’t see any evidence of his passing through that gap. He must be very good at moving like a ghost.” Robin sat in the grass and faced him.
The old man laughed. “He may have traveled a slightly different way. There are now three of my people behind the two chasing you, in what you called the ‘gap’ and three more are waiting ahead of them, just out of sight.”
“You will capture them?”
“Unless they fight, yes. We will determine what trouble you have brought down on us and what we need to do about it. Now, again I ask you why you have come here to this valley. Surely Pylori told you this place is forbidden to all but the clan.”
She smiled, and tilted her head, playing with him before answering. Instead of speaking to him, she turned and looked at Camilla, still standing behind her. “Turn around, girl.”
Camilla hesitated, but turned, while looking over her shoulder.
Robin smiled as she gazed at the five men facing her. “Lift your shirt, please.”
Camilla heard but didn’t move.
“Your shirt. It’s all right, Camilla. They can see your secret.”
Camilla realized Robin had all but told her deepest secret to five strangers. It made little difference, now. They all knew there was something to hide under there. She slowly pulled the bottom higher. And higher.
She had looked away, but heard the gasps from the men. She looked back as the old man was on his feet again, a stricken expression on his face.
“Who? How?” he stuttered.
Robin said, “The King’s raid near Nettleton so many years ago. She’s the youngest and somehow escaped. She knows nothing. Not even of you. I thought it best to bring her here.”
In two strides the man was at Camilla’s side. He slowly turned and lifted his own shirt. A green dragon looked at Camilla. She glanced at the smile on Robin and then she saw each of the other four men turn and lift their shirts. All had dragons, all different, and all the same.
Robin said, “I brought Camilla home.”
The leader took Camilla by her shoulders. “My name is Myron. I knew your parents well. Your mother was my wife’s sister. That makes you almost my daughter.”
“I am your almost-brother.” another man declared to the laughter of the others.
“You can tell me about my family? I mean the ones who died?”
“Those are stories for later tonight and tomorrow. We have another problem to solve now, and I see the time has come.” The old man’s eyes looked past Camilla.
She turned. Two more men and three young women, all dressed in buckskins and looking much like the others, escorted two others, hands tied behind their backs. Myron said, “That is the King’s Sword Master. Camilla, do you know who he is?”
“I have never seen him.”
Myron motioned for the Slave Master to move closer. When he didn’t obey instantly, one of the younger men behind shoved him so violently he stumbled and almost fell at Myron’s feet. Myron looked at him before speaking so softly everyone had to listen carefully. “Camilla, I’ve waited for half a lifetime to meet this one.”
The Slave Master spat at Myron.
The old man didn’t wipe it off his face. “How many people exist their entire miserable lives in chains because of you? How many innocents have died at your hands?”
“Release me or you’ll all die. I am the hand of King Ember.”
“Not today, we won’t all die, but you will,” Myron said, his voice still soft, but filled with hatred.
Brix, who had remained quiet for the entire time, spoke up. “Hey, you can’t just kill him!”
All eyes turned to Brix. More than one hand went to a knife or gripped a staff tighter. Brix stood his ground, and Camilla stepped to his side.
Myron nodded at her action, approving. “You stand with your friend, and I admire that, but I tell you that this time, you are wrong. This Slave Master is the hand of death and torture of the King. The attack on your family came in two waves. Mounted soldiers, led by the Weapons Master, charged in first, and then infantry.”
Camilla’s knees went weak.
Myron continued, “They hounded your family and chased them for years until they cornered them near Nettleton. Your people were coming here for safety. This man led his troops to the camp to slay every living thing but arrived too late. He searched for any information about us, trying to locate this valley. We arrived at the scene a day after.”