An eager nod. Gray still had two full bottles for himself and knew that a stream flowed a day and a half ahead. The long drink that morning, plus the half bottle he’d drank in front of the men had quenched his thirst. Giving the half bottle away was a small price to pay for the information he hoped to gain.
“If you do not talk I’ll be angry. You don’t want that.” He supported the man with an arm behind his shoulders and poured a trickle into the open mouth. The man sputtered, most of the water flying out of his mouth, but enough moisture was left to allow minimal speech.
The man muttered, “More.”
Gray sat him more upright. “Take it slow. Don’t waste your water.”
Pouring the water into his mouth slowly, he paused to allow the man to swallow several times. The water revived the man remarkably fast. He was not ready to stand or fight, but his eyes became brighter, and as he licked his lips to find the last of the moisture, he asked, “Who are you?”
Ignoring him, Gray said, “The king sent you?”
“Captain Jenson. Yes.”
“Your orders?”
A hesitation and a shift of the eyes to the bottle Gray held with the remaining water. Then a decision was made. “We’re searching for green dragons to the south of here.”
“Only green?”
“Yes. Greens have attacked us.” The words were harsh and stilted.
“Why search the desert?”
“They fly into the drylands to hide.”
The news was not good. Gray’s first impression was that the greens were drawing the king’s men into the drylands where they would locate Oasis and his family sooner or later. Gray poured more water into him. “Are there other triads coming?”
“Later. We’re the only one for now. Are you Dragon Clan?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Dragon Clans sends the dragons to kill us.” The words were spat out with anger and a hatred Gray had never encountered.
While it would make no difference to the man in his arms, Gray felt the desire to correct him. “I am Dragon Clan, but I tell you as one honorable man to another that we know nothing of green dragons attacking the army. We do know of a green killing one of our reds and fighting with a black.”
The eyes of the man were confused. “What does that mean?”
“The Dragon Clan are not your enemies. There are others who control the greens, and they are the enemies of both of our people. Here, drink the last of your water.”
When the bottle was empty, Gray went to the side of the other man in the shade and verified he was dead. He searched and found three coins, two copper, and one small silver. He also carried a map. It was a sketch of the drylands. It was accurate and detailed. Gray slipped it into his purse along with the coins.
Next, he went to the dead man still in the sun. He found two more coppers and nothing else of value. Then he went to the man cradling the water bottle. “I have to search you.”
The captain didn’t resist. More coins went into Gray’s purse and several sheets of thin paper, all with tiny writing, and the broken wax seal of King Ember. He would read them later. His eyes met those of the man as he removed the empty bottle from his limp fingers.
“I’m going to die here?”
“Yes. I cannot help you. There’s simply not enough water for both of us. I was foolish to give you what I did.”
“Generous is a better word. I thank you.”
“For leaving you here to die?”
“For caring. And for the water. I suspect I’ll go to sleep and never wake, a far better way to go than lying in the sun in pain and panting in thirst.”
It was quite a brave speech and mostly untrue. Both knew it. Gray had expected him to ask for an arrow, but a true warrior waited to the last breath before giving up. Besides, a body found with an arrow would tell others that someone had been there. Leaving the weapons and bodies in plain sight would tell others they died of thirst. The coins were lost in the sand and the papers blown away by the wind if the subject arose.
Gray took his staff in hand and turned his back on the captain and walked away. It was not easy. He wanted to rush back and help the lone survivor, but to what end? If together they managed to reach the water ahead, which was barely possible, what then? Would he ask for the triad member’s silence? Would he get it?
That captain living on and serving his king again might cost Gray his whole family’s death. Better to turn his back than risk what might otherwise happen. It was the answer to the question the council had of him. Was he strong enough to do what was needed? Head down, he trudged ahead. He kept his pace slow, knowing that moving fast in the sun would make him sweat and use more water.
Much later, as the sun sank directly behind him, he heard his name called from a raspy throat. One glance behind found Stinson shuffling after him, arms hanging loosely at his sides and mouth hanging open. Anger swelled, and Gray refused to waste more time on Stinson. He would not allow the self-serving bully to endanger the mission further, forcing aside the idea that he already had placed both of them in danger several times. The anger grew into a slow boil until Gray clenched his teeth so hard they might shatter.
Then, out of nowhere, a tingling on his back alerted him that a dragon was approaching. Turning, he found a tiny dot in the distance, a small, dark spot in the clear blue sky that increased in size as he watched. Is it coming in response to Stinson or me?
Both the dragon and Stinson came closer. Stinson didn’t seem aware of the dragon until it was much nearer, and then he ducked and covered his head with his forearm as if that would help if the dragon attacked. His eyes were wild and fearful.
“Call it off, Gray. I’ll do what you say.”
Gray ignored Stinson as it swooped lower and lower, expecting it to pull in its wings and dive at Stinson, but it flew directly over them, still dropping lower. It was a smaller red. Most reds on the east side of the mountains roosted near Oasis, so it was familiar. It flew from that direction, so it had probably come from home. Gray turned and watched it until it disappeared behind a nearby hill. It didn’t reappear.
The event was so unusual Gray ran up the side of the hill, dodging cactus and sharp rocks. At the crest of the hill, he pulled to a stop. He instantly knew what he looked at. Tessa and Fleet had described it enough times.
It was the shallow valley with the split in the rocks forming a narrow crevasse. That was where the black dragon with Fleet had landed after the fight with the green. It had healed there, with Tessa and Fleet tending it. He approached as if entering a place of worship.
The blackened fire-ring they used was there. He looked at the sides of the crevasse and found dragon blood stains still on the rock. He imagined the dragons fighting in the air, the two beasts attacking and clawing, and the black dragon landing here and living for days at the spot where he looked. The green had tried to attack it here, but Tessa and Fleet’s arrows drove it off. Then, after eight days the black struggled out of the crevasse and extended its wings. Two days later it managed to fly off.
Today the red dragon had fallen from the sky like a rock was thrown high and returning to the ground. Its wings had been folded to its sides. But, dragons attack prey in that manner, just before reaching the ground extending their wings and beating the air until they pull to a near hover and land as soft as a leaf in the fall touching ground.
He moved closer. The red turned to face him from a dozen steps away. The tongue flicked out while the eyes locked on Gray. It sniffed, then snorted as if not liking what it smelled. But Gray stood still. The dragon instilled a little fear in him, but he respected it.