Quint said, “Someone else directed the dragon?”
“It was not me, but I believe it was directed by a person of my clan. I have never seen that dragon before today.”
As if to make him a liar, his back tingled and as he looked past the other two, he saw a dragon flying low along the ridge where the army that chased him was camped for the night. If he listened closely in the dark, he might hear the screams of some of the men up there if the dragon attacked their campsite.
This night he certainly would hear echoes of those screams from the men they pushed off the ledge on the cliff. Four of them. Each scream distinct and different. Some longer. Some louder. All terrifying.
His body was worn out; sleep would be difficult. And yet it was only the first day of freedom. The King would be furious when he learned of the escapes, as would his cabinet. The goal of killing every member of the Dragon Clan didn’t allow for escapes. Not to mention the political damage Quint might do if he managed to get home to tell his tale to the Earl, Quint’s father.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ander examined the ripped and torn clothing he wore with obvious disgust. The gold threads sparkled while the thin threads holding the shoulder of his shirt had parted. Dust caked it all. Raymer thought he appeared as bad as the tattered and filthy rags he and Quint wore.
Raymer had the bottom of his foot twisted up where he could see the cuts, scrapes, and injuries on the sole. Prisoners didn’t wear footwear.
“I can make sandals for the two of you,” Ander said.
“No leather,” Raymer answered, removing a tiny thorn from his heel.
“Reeds,” Ander nodded to the edge of the river.
“You know how?”
“Art was part of my education. Art, as in weaving and for other projects. Once we made sandals, and I’m sure I remember how to do it.”
Quint tended the fire and looked up with interest. “My feet won’t hold up for long with the ground we’re walking on. Show us.”
Ander stood. He went to the shoreline and selected a handful of long reeds, tugging each to ensure they were strong. He carried them to the fire and settled himself. After braiding three, he rolled them into a flat surface, using thin strips of reeds like thread to secure them together.
Quint and Raymer copied his movements. The basic pattern was deceptively simple. Before dark they had six flat, woven oblongs. Ander wove thinner strips and with the help of a pointed stick worked holes large enough to feed the strips through for the toe grips. Smaller holes near the rear allowed two more straps.
Raymer placed one on his foot and tried walking. It was loose, would wear out quickly, but would save his feet for a while.
Quint said, “You have boots, why so many sandals?”
“The extras are for you. I don’t think these will last a day, but even if they help for part of the day, your feet will be better off.”
Raymer said, “Have either of you looked up at the ridge, yet?”
All eyes went to the top of the canyon wall. A strip of light brightened the night sky. Ander said, “Must be a dozen campfires up there.”
Quint nodded. “Got to give it to the King for mounting such a large force to chase us down.”
Should I seek out that dragon and have it attack them? Raymer decided against the impulse. The men up there were doing their part for their king. They were not exactly innocent, but they were not deserving of dying in so horrible a manner. However, if the dragon did reappear, he might encourage it to fly low enough to coat the upper part of the path with slime, making it impossible for them to descend.
As he considered the options, he decided that it wouldn’t be necessary to do anything. If they floated down the river in the morning. Only fools would dare follow. The implication that only a fool would attempt to ride the river was not lost on him.
Ander removed his fashionable jacket and shirt. He tried on a heavy, homespun shirt made of soft wool the old woman had provided. The color was bland in contrast to his satin pants, but he was no longer the person of a royal on an overnight excursion. He adjusted the shirt and looked up.
Quint said, “You’re not nearly as pretty as I remember.”
“It’s warmer. Too bad you two are so big that none of this will fit you.”
Raymer understood. His large size got in the way of normal clothing for several years, but Quint was a full head taller and must have endured far more. Raymer held up another completed sandal. Quint almost finished another, too. They appeared to be functional, if not pretty.
Quint said, “We need to try and get some sleep. About sunup, we’ll go into the water. It’ll be cold, but I think we’ll move with the current and travel two or three times faster than a man can walk on the rough ground. When the army gets here, we’ll be long gone.”
“It concerns me. I’m not a good swimmer,” Raymer said.
“Neither am I,” Ander added, looking at Raymer in a relieved fashion.
“Don’t worry, we won’t do a lot of swimming. We’re going to tie nests of sticks together for individual rafts and hold on to them for support,” Quint said.
Raymer said, “Why not just a log?”
“A mat of sticks will float better and won’t be so long it gets caught on everything we float past. Think of a log and how hard it’ll be to point down the river and what happens if it turns sideways.”
Ander said, “I was thinking of a short log about as tall as me. Just lay on it.”
“There are rapids downriver,” Quint added. “Not too many, but we need to be careful and have a plan. We need to stick together. If any of us fall off our raft, we need to meet at the next calm water. But, we have to do this fast. The army probably sent men on horses to ride all night, and we have to get out of this canyon before they get down there to stop us.”
“Why not leave now?” Ander asked.
“We’re all worn out. Some sleep will let us all move faster tomorrow,” Quint said. “We’ll have a long day.”
“Or maybe not,” Raymer said, his voice a whisper, his eyes looking up at the top of the canyon wall again. A series of smaller pinpoints of light had appeared, lined up in a row and moving down the ledge.
“Torches,” Quint hissed. “I didn’t think they had the balls. I wouldn’t travel that at night, I didn’t like it during the day.”
“The King must have threatened the officers,” Ander said.
Quint said, “Those officers must have used some great threats on their men. I wonder what the reactions will be with the first trip on those stones we left on the ledge. And of course, the leather thongs we strung will cause more to fall.”
Raymer glanced at the warm fire, the dry blankets, and thought about the anticipated rest. He caught Quint’s eye and shrugged. “The river?”
“I see no choice.”
Ander said, “No time to make the rafts that we need for our blankets and food. I suggest we use the blankets to make small packs for our backs, and we find suitable logs. Not saying your raft idea wasn’t any good, Quint. But, we have to get going.”
Quint was already moving. He knelt at the edge the blankets and started sorting food into four piles. Apples could withstand the water. So could nuts. Sandals went into each pile. He stuffed grain and dried meats into his mouth while making three packs and ripping another blanket into strips.
The grain and meat would never last in the water. He made three bags by tying the ends of the blankets together, then tied the bags to the back of the others with strips torn from another. Ander tied the third blanket/pack to Quint’s back.