Others walked the street, singularly or in pairs. Two emerged from the inn almost at his feet, and the splash of light from the door detailed a man hovering at the edge of the alley. A tall, thin man wearing the same sort of clothing as Prater.
Gray closed the shutters gently. He pushed the chair to where the door opened so the chair legs scraping on the wood floor would wake him if any tried entering. Then he placed his knife carefully on the floor near the bed where an intruder would not see it.
“I hope it rains,” he told himself as he climbed into bed and thinking of Prater in the alley.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Gray slept late. The combination of ale, which he was unused to drinking, and the long days of walking across the drylands had tired his body to the point that he felt fifty instead of twenty-five. Added to that was all he’d learned in one short day. His mind churned as he recalled one point after another. He couldn’t keep to one line of thoughts before leaping to another.
The smells of cooked meat and baked bread swirled around the room as he dressed. The chair braced against the door reminded him of Prater standing in the dark and watching his room. A glance out the window told him it had not rained. Too bad. But he felt certain that if he had left the inn, Prater would have followed. Gray slipped his knife back into the scabbard and peeked out the shutters to see if anyone in the alley watched the inn. If they did, he didn’t see them.
At the foot of the stairs, he caught the small hand-sign to sit at Bear’s table. Gray sat and immediately a serving girl appeared at his side. It was good to sit with the owner and get the best service. Soon the table held bread, preserves, butter, and a bowl of steaming mixed grains sprinkled with a brown spice that was both sweet and strong.
Bear nursed a mug of hot cider, mixed with a dark ale. He suggested Gray try a cup, and before long it also sat in front of him.
Bear said, “You slept late, but that was expected. Feeling better?”
“I do,” Gray said between a spoonful and biting off a hunk of bread that was soft and warm inside with a hard crust on the outside. He used the knife at his hip to spread butter and preserves.
“A peaceful night, I take it?”
Gray looked up and paused before answering. He didn’t want to sound like a child scared of the dark. On the other hand, they needed to share information. “I saw someone hidden in the shadows last night. It looked like a man I met on the road. Prater was his name.”
“Tall skinny kid who’s older than he looks?”
“I saw him with Caldor yesterday before we went to the bookstore.”
Gray finished the bowl and declined a refill. He finished the black tea.
Bear tipped his chair back and waited as if deciding to share something with Gray. Then he leaned forward. “I believe Prater spend time in Shrewsbury, along with Caldor.”
The statement was simple enough on the face of it, but there were depths that became apparent as Gray thought about it. Shrewsbury, the port where he suspected the others arrived from Breslau. A small port city. It would seem to test the coincidence to think they had not known each other there. They were certainly friends now. Well, perhaps ‘friends’ was the wrong word. They worked together, friendly or not.
“I see. But I am not wealthy nor a trader. Why would they watch me?”
“Why would Prater go to all the trouble to arrange to meet you on the road? And how did he know when and where to do it?” Bear’s words were gentle, but firm.
Gray had no answer until he remembered the red dragon. It had flown near him and landed where Fleet’s black had been injured. Then it flew off in the direction of the road. The same road where Prater had met him.
Gray said, “I thought Caldor is here in Fleming most of the time. How about Prater?”
“You’re quick to put things together. Prater is often gone. I do not know where, but he is in Fleming less than he is away.”
He watches the road, waiting for us. Gray needed to tell his family. Prater had known where to watch. When he spotted the red dragon he then probably approached any who traveled the road until he found the right one.
At the very least, Prater was a spy for the others. Or for their king. Or he was a bounty hunter after the rewards offered by King Ember. In no sense was he a friend.
Gray’s next thought was that Prater may have had a confederate who backtracked Gray. If he did, Stinson was out there. At least, his body was.
“You’re looking pale,” Bear said.
“I confess that I’m not very good at intrigue. I’m just thinking about all the mistakes I’ve made.”
“Gray, you’re right. You have. But let me tell you something. Those same mistakes brought you to Shailer and me. He and I have been trying to figure out what the hell is going on for about three years, and we think you may be our key. It’s not about us taking sides. It’s about dangers that we believe are coming to our city, province, and kingdom. I’m talking about war.”
“War?”
“I’ll let you decide for yourself, but when you communicate with your family, tell them there are at least two in Fleming who will work with them.”
“If something happens to me?”
“Then we watch for another from your family. I’m sure one or two will come along before too much time passes. We think circumstances are coming to a head.” Bear drew a long breath and waited.
The thought of the red dragon surged to the forefront of his thought. It made Gray change the subject. The red had flown to, and over the road between Fleming and Shrewsbury. Remembering the maps from last night, what lay ahead of the dragon’s flight was the peninsula ridged with mountains, where the greens may have their lair. South of that was Shrewsbury.
But what if the green dragons had sensed and attacked the red? Would he feel the death on his back? The sensitive touches were limited by distance, even for those few who were bonded, but the death of a dragon was felt by all over a vast range. It hadn’t happened since the dragons had fought and fallen into the bay near Fleming. There were those in his family who sensed it then, but only a few. The distance was too far. But he was close. Not even a full day’s walk.
Again, Gray wished he had a method to communicate with his family. Even writing. But, having none made him decide what to do instead of relying on others. With information so important, should he return home now? What choice did he have?
Another idea slipped into his mind as sinewy as any snake hunting prey. Until now Caldor and Prater were the aggressors if seeming to be his friends. Perhaps he could use their actions against them, and at the same time, he might find out more about them than they found about him.
“I have an idea. I’ll go to Shrewsbury but not without looking behind my back every step of the way. Your idea of me working with you gives me legitimacy, and that should be easy enough for all but Caldor and Prater. I think at least one of them will follow me there.”
“I agree. We should visit Shailer and his bookstore soon.” Bear said. “There are also other items to accomplish, such as your stroll with Kelby.”
“Is there a weapons shop that sells quality bows nearby?”
Bear nodded while rubbing his chin. “Oddly enough, there is one on the way, if we travel a different route. Are you ready?”