Henry, the old man, said, as he held up a sketch. “Is this picture detailed enough?”
The drawing was crisp and without adornment. It displayed a valley. Ahead lay a row of smaller mountains. Directly in front of them stood two much larger mountains, separated by a gap. A road wound through the valley and into the gap.
Smiling, Raymer took the paper and closed his eyes again. When he felt the touch of the dragon’s mind, he opened his eyes long enough to see the map and then closed them again. He did that three times. If he understood the mind of the dragon well enough, it understood.
Not long after, the feeling of joy returned. With that, he felt confident the dragon had spotted the two peaks. “Quick, draw me what you think the river might look like from up high.”
Henry bent his head and went to work. Soon he held up another sheet. It looked more like a wriggling worm than a river. Raymer tried to imagine how to pass on to the dragon the idea of a river and settled on water instead. Could he project the feeling of water? No, he couldn’t. Well, perhaps he could project the color. No, he had never seen the river, and they ranged from dark brown to green and blue.
He reached out to the dragon again and thought about ducks. Then he changed to imagine what a river might look like from above. He’d seen them from hills and actually seen the one down the center of the deep valley during their escape.
“Does the river have fields and pastures alongside it?”
Henry said, “No. It is mostly forest on both sides, but the road travels beside it.”
Raymer pictured the tops of trees, with the river snaking through it, and a road alongside. He tried to hold that image in his mind. He wished he could see what the dragon did.
An image formed in his mind. Two mountains, the one of the right taller and the top flatter. “Are the two mountains the same size and shape?”
“Not really, although people usually talk like they are because they are like a gateway to the valley,” Henry said. “One is taller.”
“What about the shapes?”
“No, not the same. One is more pointed at the top.”
Raymer kept the information to himself. He was not sure if what he experienced was the dragon responding to him, or coincidence. He looked at the paper for the river and the road alongside. Mentally he added ducks and rowboats on the river to explain that it was water. On the road, he placed people walking and a wagon pulled by a mule.
Communicating with a dragon required more than words or mental pictures. He needed to include items the dragon could relate to. Basics like food or things it recognized from seeing daily. Simple concepts such as come here or go home. However, the communication was more like dealing with a dog than a person.
However, the dragon had responded, even if it was about as simple as a child might respond. As their relationship grew he would understand more, and so would the dragon.
Raymer glanced at the last drawing long enough to lock the image to his mind and ensuring it was something he could describe to the dragon. It was. The drawing was simple, straightforward, and distinct details leaped from the paper. Castle Warrington sat high up on a solid wall built over a steep cliff, and a river flowing below. The sea lay beyond. Five turrets, all with banners and flags flying.
He nodded to himself and then closed his eyes again, feeling he could concentrate better with the dragon when no other distractions were present. Removing sight helped. If he could close his ears, it would be even better, but as he fought to understand and learn the mind of the dragon he heard little in the room.
The feeling of satisfaction again filled him, relayed from the dragon. A vague flash of an image of a river with trees on both banks leading onto the distance also found a road beside it.
“Henry, I think it is beyond the two mountains and above the river. How much farther?”
The old man paused and did some calculation of his own. Finally, he said, “It takes most of a day of hard riding to reach the pass between those two mountains. Two more to reach Fairwinds Province and Castle Warrington.”
Fleet said, “How do you know where the dragon is?”
“I don’t know for sure. But twice I’ve had mental images similar to the drawings Henry made.” He then made a mental note of how long it had taken for the dragon to fly to the pass. He doubled that time for an indication of when it might be approaching the castle.
“Maybe your imagination?” Fleet asked, without and sense of criticism in his tone.
“I thought so too, but that was the reason for asking about those two mountains. The sketch shows them looking the same, but when I asked because the mental picture the dragon sent to me showed one larger and the tip flat, Henry confirmed it.” Raymer peeked through slits and found Fleet standing, a wide grin on his face.
Fleet said, “The dragon is really doing what you tell it?”
“We’ll find out, I guess.”
“Do you think that someday I can bond with a dragon?” Fleet asked.
“Your father said it’s rare. In fact, I still find it hard to believe.” Raymer explained, closing his eyes again and trying to learn how to best contact the mind of the dragon.
Ander, who had been quiet for some time said, “I think I understand why people hate and fear the Dragon Clan. It’s not always because they think you’re going to send dragons to kill them.”
Fleet said, his voice sharp and demanding. “Tell me. That’s one thing I have never understood. We do no harm to people. We just want to live in peace.”
“Slow down, son,” Ander said. “I was talking to Raymer, but I guess it also includes you, but this is simply an observation. While the two of you discuss bonding and communicating with dragons that are far off, I can only watch and wish.”
A quiet filled the room. Raymer tried thinking with the front of his mind, the part right above his eyes. It didn’t seem to work. He tried speaking words under his breath. That seemed to have an effect. He received another image of the river, not the same he had seen earlier.
Fleet said to Ander, “If you could fly and I could not, I suppose I would be upset and maybe jealous.”
Ander chuckled. “That’s about the best explanation I have ever heard. Imagine that my people can fly. You can never fly and never experience it, and you have no idea of how we do it. We hide in the forests and mountains and keep to ourselves, but others tell tales about where we fly to and what we do. You think we have other powers we don’t talk about.”
“I’m beginning to believe you are a very smart man,” Fleet said.
“This was all your idea.” Ander reminded him.
Fleet shrugged off the compliment. “But I believe people fear us because they don’t know us or what we can do. That generates fear. Perhaps my people should educate others. Then the problems will be solved.”
Ander said, “Then we’ll never agree. I think people are scared of the unknown, and you are the unknown. You can talk all you want, but the average person is still going to distrust and hate you.”
“Hate?” Fleet asked.
“Because you are somehow superior, and yes, hate is the word I’d use.” Ander sat and turned his head as if to end the conversation.”
Raymer mumbled to the dragon in what he hoped sounded like a reassuring tone. He wanted to know if it had veered off course. An image appeared in his mind, fuzzy and indistinct as if looking across a fog-shrouded lake and trying to determine the details on the far side. However, what he could discern was a river and trees on both banks.
He relaxed. Fleet went for a mug of cold water, some cheese, and bread. Raymer didn’t dare move from the bed or allow his attention to wander. He ate and quenched his thirst without speaking, and the other three in the room remained silent.