“You look tired, too.”
Carrion flashed a half-smile. “I am. How many men do you know that flew over an entire sea today?”
“You were just along for the ride. You didn’t do it yourself.”
“That shows how ignorant you are about bonding. I’m every bit as wore out as the red, and you had better have a platter of food around here for me to eat.”
Tanner did have a platter and Carrion ate nearly everything on it, then fell into a deep sleep. Tanner worried over the comment Carrion had made. He was ignorant of much of the bonding routine, but the inference was that the physical act of flying a great distance tired both of them. He was learning a lot while sitting in a chair in a dark room watching over a motionless man.
The following day Tanner left the cabin to walk on the decks and get some fresh air. The day after, that storm struck and produced waves that struck the ship so hard they sounded like trees banging the hull. The ship rose and fell with the waves, and several times the ship struggled to reach the top of a wave only to slide down the other side so fast the bow drove into the next. The ship slowed and surged, twisted and lurched.
Tanner climbed into the other bunk and moaned for a day and a night. The cook brought food and Tanner threatened the man’s life if he didn’t get it away from him. He filled a large bowl with vomit but was too weak to take it to the rail and dispose of the vile contents.
Carrion remained in contact with the dragon during the entire storm and felt nothing. However, the following day dawned cleared, and the sea calmed. Carrion ate a massive meal while Tanner picked at his. Tanner had emptied his bowl, but still didn’t feel like eating.
Carrion said, “Let me tell you about Breslau so far. We flew east to the mountains and then south. The land is dry. More than dry, it’s a desert of a kind I have never seen. There is little sand. It is rock, bare and dark brown or gray. Almost nothing grows.”
“People?”
“Not even a road, so far.”
“Dragons?”
“We’re going slow and trying to spot them before they see us, but so far there have been none. Even finding a deer, goat, or pig to eat has been hard. There are just not enough animals or plants for anything to live. I guess that it would be more accurate to say there is no water to support life.”
Tanner said, “It strikes me odd that you’re talking about no water when we’re on a ship.”
“You won’t be laughing when you see it. We’re going to circle further south tomorrow. I want to see what’s down near that big river on the map.”
“Instead of flying closer to Breslau City?”
“Calm yourself down. We have ten more days, at least. The Captain has never been to that river, and he knows of nobody who has. When I questioned him, he said that ships were only allowed to make port in the capital. We know nothing is north of there because it’s just too dry.”
“That leaves the river to the south, but why are you so interested in it?”
Carrion tore off more bread and chewed as he spoke. “Something the Captain said. A small thing, really, but maybe important. While we were planning, he said that it was almost like any ships visiting were shunted to the capital. They were told they were unwelcome further south. That makes me wonder why.”
“All visiting ships had to go to only the one port?”
“That’s what he said.”
“That is odd.”
Carrion reached for another piece of bread. “If they didn’t want ships sailing down there, we have to ask, why not?”
Tanner shrugged. “I can’t think of an answer that question.”
“And I don’t think we should go to Breslau City until we have an answer or, at least, a suspicion. Ever since I first saw that river, I wondered about it. There is no name, no towns or cities listed, but other than the smaller river that flows by Breslau Castle, it is the only river I see on the map.”
“I don’t understand your concern, but go take a look.”
Carrion snorted before saying in the tone a father uses with his young son when teaching him. “Water. Freshwater. To me, that says the banks of the great river should be green. Farmers should be irrigating crops. There should be people living on both sides, in fact, there must be.”
“Because you say so?”
Carrion said softly, “Take another look at the Captain’s chart. Ask yourself, how many people live in that city? Then ask yourself one more thing: What do they eat? Because it is obvious, there is not enough farmland around the city to feed them all.”
Picturing the chart in his head, Tanner realized Carrion was right. Smiling, Tanner said, “Listen to me. Since I’m in charge of this mission, or task, or whatever it is, I order you to fly over that river and see what’s up with it.”
“Yes, sir.” Carrion rolled over and pulled the covers over his head as he went to sleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Carrion rested the following day, checking in with the red a few times, but also allowing the dragon to recuperate and rest from all the flying. Tanner made a hand drawn copy of the Captain’s chart on a smaller piece of paper. He excluded all the drylands to the north, as well as the far south. What remained was the circular bay and the large river. He indicated the mountain range that isolated the coast from the inland.
On the next day, as Carrion lay on his bed and closed his eyes to enter the mind of the dragon, Tanner reminded him. “Okay, I know where your red is. Now and then I want you to pull back from his mind enough to let me know where you are and what you see. I’ll sketch it on my map.”
“I know. I heard you the first three times.”
Tanner settled back and waited. He had managed to locate an unused chair. They still told the crew Carrion was suffering seasickness, which made them both amused and sympathetic.
Later, Carrion muttered, “I see the river in the distance. It’s at the base of the mountains where three smaller rivers converge.”
Tanner didn’t answer. The dragon was exactly where they wanted to begin the search, but first, they wanted to fly over the mountainous area in search of green dragons that might be hostile. For that reason, Carrion intended to fly high enough that being seen from the ground was almost impossible.
But dragons tend to seek out isolated mountains for their roosts, or the warm slopes of volcanoes. When on the ground dragons are at their most vulnerable, if an attacker managed to avoid the mouth full of deadly teeth and the head that darted as fast as any snake. But they were slow and awkward, and their wings easily were torn.
Their wings were their weakest vulnerability, as well as their best asset. Tanner had heard stories of dragons with holes in wings from arrows or tears from packs of dogs, and still they flew. When fighting another dragon, the damage to wings can determine the winner, although more often the injured dragon sinks its claws in the other and both fall to their deaths.
Carrion said, “We’re flying over the mountains south of the river. The land is dry, but not like north of Breslau. There are sagebrush and cacti, a few small trickles or lakes, some streams and small rivers. Everywhere there is water, there is green. So far, no signs of people, but we’re still on the foot of the mountains.”
Tanner made a few small squiggles indicating streams on his map. He made a small notation of what Carrion reported. The tray of food he’d had delivered held salted fish with a smoke flavor he enjoyed. He wished grapes were in season, or perhaps some berries.
The cook managed to boil small loaves of bread about the size of a fist. Not too hard on the outside, and soft inside. He’d make a point to compliment him next time the cook was near.