Bear sighed, “That is a lot of preparation for entering the room of a young man of modest means. Were any other rooms entered?”
She shook her head.
“Of course not,” Bear said as if that explained it all.
The woman said, “Now I suppose you’ll purchase that building, making sure this never happens again?”
“It houses a cobbler. Shoes are always a wise investment.”
Gray realized the interchange also provided more information. The woman hadn’t climbed from his window to find the ladder on the roof of the other building. Instead, she had another person help her while she was on the upper floor. That help had not followed her up there, but rather was already in place. Again, Bear proved he, and his operation, were far above Gray’s experience.
“Food for your trip will be outside your door. I promise it will be there, and no thieves will take it.”
The look he passed to Gray told it all. There would be at least one guard during the night, and perhaps more. Bear was embarrassed that someone had searched Gray’s room, and Bear intended to make the intruder pay. The logical person was Prater.
Bear said, “When you reach Shrewsbury, visit several shops. If you only go to one, people will wonder. Introduce yourself to Kelby. Act as if it’s the first meeting. Can you write?”
Gray nodded.
“I thought so. Take paper, a bottle of ink, and pen. Pass your messages to Kelby and she will get them safely to us.”
“Tell her I’ll probably arrive after her.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to head down to the bookstore and tell her yourself?” The teasing in Bear’s eye was clear. But, he’d suggested exactly what Gray wanted to. And exactly what he knew he shouldn’t.
CHAPTER TEN
Before the sun rose, Gray had gathered his belongings and was ready to travel. The morning air was sharp, and sea odors filled it. As he eased his door open, he almost tripped over a cloth sack in the dark. The food Bear had promised. The sack had a looped rope to close it and provide a strap for his shoulder. It weighed at least twice as much as he expected.
How much does he think I can eat? Gray walked quietly down the stairs, checking for Bear’s guards and finding none, yet knowing they watched his every move. He left the inn and turned back the way he’d entered the city. The same road that had carried him into Fleming carried him out.
There were few people out, and the day had not yet dawned. A baker shook flour off an apron. The air was damp, an odd feeling for a man raised in a desert. He carried his staff in his left hand, his new quiver over one shoulder, and the bow over the other. His water bottles were filled, his body recovered from his last trek across the drylands, and his mind active and excited. His trip had produced more information in a short time that he believed possible.
Yet he kept his eyes busy searching the darkness as he left the large buildings behind and passed by the small farms and houses at the edge of the city. He did not spot one of Bear’s people yet had no doubt he never walked alone. As the sun peeked over the horizon, the last of the buildings of Fleming was behind.
A few people walked on the road. Most of them carried produce or wheeled carts of goods for sale in Fleming. Most either said good-morning or nodded a greeting. All were headed into town. Gray kept watch on tall hills or places where the road could be watched. More of Caldor’s people, or simply highwaymen, could be there.
Much later he found where he’d emerged from the drylands onto the road. The stream where he’d filled his bottles was out there somewhere. So was Stinson. At least, his body was. Gray couldn’t transport it back to Oasis, but he could locate it and give it a burial.
He glanced around to make sure no eyes were watching and then left the road. He walked on hard, bare rock for several steps, leaving no tracks. Then he headed for the stream where he’d left Stinson, expecting to find him around every turn and bend.
The stream was there, but Stinson was not. There was no sign of him. He might have tried to return to Oasis. Without water, he would never have made it, but with Stinson you never know. He may have rested a couple of days at the stream and then headed home. If so, he could still be alive and ready to attack Gray anywhere along the way.
Gray was still fresh as he topped off his bottles and drank as much as he could hold. If he moved fast, he would spend only one night in the drylands. By tomorrow night, he could be at the spring, and home the day after. It would be a hard trip, but what he wanted was to tell his tale, so he could return and strike for Shrewsbury.
The day passed quickly, and instead of halting early he continued on into the dark. A dry camp without fire passed too. Late the next day he camped at the seep. He built a small fire and kept watch. If Stinson were going to attack him, this would be the spot. He searched for any indications of anyone camping there and found none. Stinson would not be so careful, and he would have burned all the wood stored for emergencies.
Gray slept well and walked into the drylands with first light. In the late afternoon, he crossed the desert and looked up to where the watch post sat on the tip of the mesa. He gave a wave and walked on, sure that he’d been spotted, and there would be people waiting to hear his story.
He was right on all counts. Tessa joined him near the mouth of the canyon but only nodded. She made no mention that he was alone. She asked no questions. She’s waiting to hear my story at a family council.
As he entered Oasis, he paused, as he usually did, to enjoy the view of the green valley and the sparkling lake. The boats were pulled onto the shore, no children played in the water, nobody worked the gardens, and all activity seemed to have ceased. He felt the reassuring touch of the roosting dragons, which made him feel comfortable and secure.
The people were all gathered at the council spot, sitting in the shade of the tall apple trees. His entire family was waiting. As he drew near, he noticed that for the first time in his memory, there was no conversation, just accusing eyes. Tessa eased away and took her seat with the other council members.
Sawyer, the family elder, stood and welcomed him. A short, abrupt welcome that seemed to lack sincerity. Or perhaps it was a worry. “We do not wish you to have to repeat your story many times, and we do not wish any to misunderstand, so we’re all going to hear you at the same time.”
Gray slowly climbed the two steps to stand on the small stage so that all could see and hear him. He felt like a highwayman facing those he’d stolen from. Remembering Stinson that might not be too far from the truth.
Sawyer raised his voice as he faced the crowd, “We will hear Gray’s tale, and only I will ask any questions or ask for clarification. To do otherwise means we will never finish. After his telling, I am sure Gray will respond to questions.”
People, his friends, and family, those he’d grown up with and children all waited for him to speak. Gray drew in a breath. Where to begin?
“I’m sure you’ve noticed that I returned alone.” The statement was greeted with a few nods and many blank expressions. He told of Stinson’s actions in basic terms, not wanting to criticize the dead. Then he continued with the discovery that the others were probably arriving in Shrewsbury, not Fleming. He talked of the blank places on the charts and maps, and then he told them of Shailer’s suspicion that King Ember owned the single ship that sailed between the two lands, and of the stores warehoused near Shrewsbury.
While the rest of his story, including Stinson’s death, was accepted in silence, the statement about the King brought some to their feet. Others were too stunned to move. As expected, the news that the king might be involved came as a total, and scary prospect. If King Ember had somehow joined forces with the others, the danger to the Dragon Clan had escalated to extreme proportions while they were not aware that anything had changed. All sensed the danger looming.