“The army is beginning to move on Northwood, and they may have less distance to travel than us,” Quint said. “We really don’t know how long it’ll take to cross over that secret mountain pass of yours.”
“Or if my family is still even living there. And, we don’t know if they will help us if they are.”
Quint stood. “Will they prevent us from going on?”
“I’ve never met them. If I were not part of the Dragon Clan, they’d make sure we didn’t continue. But I am. They’ll know me by my mark.”
“That ugly thing on your back. I hear all of you have them,” Quint said, gathering his few things and keeping his eyes averted from Raymer as he chuckled at the long-standing joke between them.
Raymer also gathered his remaining food and tied it inside the blanket. “Then you need to take another good look at it, my friend. The design on my back is nothing less than a work of art.”
“Mark of a devil god, some say.” Ander contributed, then added, “Of course I’ve never seen one for myself.”
Raymer turned and pulled his shirt up to his shoulders where Ander couldn’t help but look at his back.
“Seven Gods Above, would you look at that? It’s like fine art, isn’t it? That is a mean, angry-looking dragon. He looks like he could jump right off your back and take a bite of me,” Ander said in an awed voice.
Raymer caught Quint’s eye and said, “Mean? Angry? Last time I looked it was as friendly as a kitten. You better hope it isn’t looking at you that way.”
“Why not?”
Quint picked up on the humor and said, “I don’t understand, Ander. I see a friendly dragon, one with a smile. I wouldn’t want that thing jumping off his back and onto me.”
Ander backed a step.
Raymer and Quint could not hold back the laughter any further.
“Very funny,” Ander said, his face pink. “But it really is the best-drawn tattoo I’ve ever seen.”
“It’s not a tattoo. I was born with it.”
Ander said, “I’ve heard, but didn’t believe it. Can I see it again in a better light?”
“You don’t believe me about being born with it. But, yes. I’ll show you later,” Raymer said. “Each of our marks is different, and we’re proud of them. Ready to go?”
Raymer took the lead again since he generally knew where they were headed. There was more to the directions, but he hadn’t shared them. The others obviously suspected that to be the case. He still struggled with his decision to take two people who were not of the clan to one of the secret strongholds. When rumor of a stronghold reached the king’s men, it went directly to the king’s ear, and troops were dispatched to murder each and every one of the clan, no matter the age or sex. I won’t let that happen.
Raymer found an animal track that went in the right direction which was well before the underbrush had become thick and tangled. Working their way past the hanging vines, thorns, stickers, and nettles, would make the trip take several more days than they wanted.
The downside was that in the forests animals are often not the only ones using the paths. Raymer had been raised in forests similar to these, and he kept one eye on the ground and one ahead. His mark would warn him if a dragon flew near. He almost felt safe.
Ander followed him, breaking branches he stepped on, stumbling over exposed roots, and dragging the end of his staff in the dirt. He left a trail a blind man could follow.
Quint brought up the rear, scuffling along to smudge most of the marks of the staff and other telltale signs. They traveled fast and made good time. Nobody mentioned the staff marks, but Raymer carried his staff, balanced in his left hand, and kept it ready to use.
Maybe he just needs an example. Raymer waited until they entered a small clearing covered in knee high brown grass. In an instant, he swung his staff from his side to his front and grasped it with both hands as he dropped to his left knee.
The other two pulled to an abrupt halt, their eyes searching for danger. Ander hissed, “What is it?”
“I am holding my staff ready to protect myself. If there had been a swordsman attacking me, I would have blocked his blade and struck him on his head with the end of my staff.”
Ander looked down at the end of the pole he held while the other end drug behind.
Quint said to Ander, no humor in his tone for once. “In that situation, you would have died.”
Ander reached for the center of his staff. “Show me.”
Raymer stepped ahead and turned to face him. “Hold it like this. Then move it from side to side, always looking at the blade, never at the end of your staff. Swords are heavy, and you’ll see his body flex to swing before he does. Watch for him to set his feet, shift his weight, and for his fingers to turn white as he grips his blade harder. Watch his eyes. Then move your staff to block the blow.”
“Then what?” Ander asked.
Quint said, “Exactly. Then what means that you have lived long enough to consider then what, instead of dying with the first blow.”
“Okay, I think I see what you mean. You’re telling me to just block his blows, not fight.”
“One of us will come save you,” Quint said. “But, you have to block the sword, first.”
Raymer said, “We can’t take the time to teach you how to fight now, but you have to walk with the expectation that your next step will be your last unless you can defend yourself. I’ll practice as we move. I suggest you do the same.”
“I don’t know how.”
“Copy me as well as you can.”
Raymer turned and started leading them again, pleased to look from the corner of his eye and see Ander carrying his staff balanced in the same manner. At a wide spot in the path Raymer snapped his staff forward into the basic defensive position. A glance told him Ander had done much the same, but slower and with no grace. His movements were awkward and clumsy, but he was trying. Raymer gave him an approving glance before continuing to lead them.
They traveled fast and with few words. The treks up the hillsides were becoming harder on their muscles. Their breath came in gasps near the tops. Bear Mountain didn’t look any closer. The forest remained dense and closed in on them from all sides, causing Raymer to feel constricted and fearful that any enemy could be within a step before they knew of it, or them.
They abruptly burst through a tangle of vines and came to the King’s Highway, a strip of road maintained by soldiers who regularly cut back the brush and shrubs forever trying to encroach on the road. It was wide enough for two wagons to pass each other, a feature untrue of any other roads in the kingdom. Most had pullouts where one or the other had to surrender the road.
“Well, look at this,” Quint smiled. “It is so nice of King Ember to order this built for us. Travel gets easier from here on.”
“For a while,” Raymer reminded him.
They turned left, which took them south. Now and then they caught a peek of Bear Mountain behind and above the treetops, the tallest mountain known to locals. While they had walked mostly single-file for the last two days, the wide road soon had all three side by side as if out for a walk in a park.
Raymer carried his staff balanced in the middle and loosely to his side, the ends pointing front and rear, as did Quint. They were ready to snap them into position to defend or attack. On the other hand, Ander’s staff seemed to have a mind of its own as it swung from side to side and bounced up and down with every step.
“Carry it like this,” Raymer suggested, as he relaxed his fingers and showed Ander how to carry it easier, with his fingers. “Have you ever had any training with weapons?”