LeRoy Clary
Dragon Clan #7: Shell’s Story
CHAPTER ONE
After finishing a dinner of his mother’s heavy mutton stew filled with carrots, onions, and turnips, Shell washed his bowl and placed it on the shelf with the other two. Jammer, his younger brother, was eating with friends again, and his mother was conducting family business.
She entered the hut, gave him a peck on his cheek, and glanced at the remaining stew.
Avoiding her eyes, but wanting to speak before she departed again, he said in his steadiest voice, “I request you call a council meeting tonight.”
A stricken expression whipped fleetingly across her face, but it quickly dissolved into blandness almost as fast as it had come. She appeared calm and non-committal as she began slicing carrots laid parallel to each other. His mother would add them to the stew for tomorrow's meals, and she said in a soft voice, “You’re leaving us.”
It was not a question, nothing to debate or linger over. Shell’s mother always knew his innermost thoughts as if they shared a single mind. As a child, when he’d done something wrong, she often knew it as soon as he did—or it seemed that way. He’d learned early not to lie or attempt to conceal things from her. His mother waited for his response with sad eyes.
He finally shrugged and said, “I have to go.”
She reached for a pair of yellow onions and peeled away the outside skins. A few deft cuts of the knife turned the insides into small cubes. How can she do that without cutting off a finger?
Still, without raising her eyes to him, she said, “The new people threatening us from across the water are unknown quantities. I know they’re a danger to the families living near the Endless Sea, but they won’t cross the Raging Mountains and come all the way across the grasslands to our home.”
“We don’t know that. But, even if that’s so, the invaders from Breslau will find and kill as many Dragon Clan as they can no matter where they live. If not this year, then next. Breslau has Dragon Masters that teach their green dragons to kill ours. We wear the dragon mark on our backs, and they hate us for that and will wipe us out. To do less to help our family is wrong, no matter where they live or what part of the family they threaten.”
“Well said.” His mother finished chopping the onions and scooped them into the stew with the blade of her knife. She diced turnips and added them. “You’re right, of course, but if there had been a nice girl for you at Springtown last year, I think you would have remained and raised babies for me to spoil.”
“I can’t stay here and raise lambs and goats with all my tomorrows the same as today. Like Papa before he died, I want a woman to share my life with. On my way to the seaport of Racine to offer my help in defending our family from the invaders, I’ll stop at Bear Mountain.”
“To look for a wife?” She sounded hopeful.
“Yes. There’s one girl we’ve all heard the messengers talk about repeatedly, Camilla, the wildling girl. She must be special.”
“Ah, that one. Son, you may have set your sights too high when you talk of Camilla. That girl is known far and wide. I’ll bet there’s a path worn through the forest by eager young men wishing to court her. But, I will go tell Anson you’d like to speak at a family council tonight.”
After she had left, Shell closed his eyes in relief, and to prevent any tears from leaking out. That went better than I expected. When he opened them, he decided to gather and inventory his meager belongings. It didn’t take long. He would leave much of it to his younger brother, Jammer, who would learn to watch over the flock. Jammer wouldn’t be happy about him leaving, and even less so when he discovered that he would inherit Shell’s job as a herdsman.
Jammer didn’t like animals, at least not in the way Shell did. Jammer didn’t take the time to talk to them or get to know them as individuals. He thought them stupid and only good for eating. Not yet fourteen, he had far too much energy to sit and watch animals chew grass all day long. Perhaps Shell could teach him some fighting moves with his staff before he departed, and Jammer could work on perfecting them while watching over the flocks, as he had.
But on second thought, Jammer would complain about that too, as he did about everything. The moves would be too fast, hard, difficult, or unimpressive. Suddenly, Shell didn’t care. He would soon be gone from the rolling plains of the high grasslands, off to find a wife if he was lucky, and to help his people, and have adventures above and beyond any that any man in his family had in a hundred years. At least that was his plan.
He would see the great volcano they called Bear Mountain, the dragons nesting on the warm slopes, Castle Warrington where a dragon directed by Tanner won the battle against the King two years ago, and perhaps he would sail across the Endless Sea to the land of Breslau. If he worked hard enough, tales would spread of his achievements, even to the grasslands of the far west and to his family in this tiny village. Defeating Breslau was important for all Dragon Clan, and a goal he should set for himself, but his mind kept pushing it to the back. First and foremost, he was going to see dragons. See and ‘feel’ them. Maybe even bond with one.
Finding a wife was also a lofty goal considering what little he had to offer a woman, especially for someone like Camilla, but seeing a dragon up close was a reality he could achieve, and he might encounter other potential wives; maybe plenty of them. The slopes of Bear Mountain would be his first destination. He might not meet and marry Camilla, or defeat Breslau, but dragons were waiting for him. Calling for him.
Failing to see the dragons would make the entire trip, and his life, feel like a waste. Even for a Dragon Clan member, the draw between him and dragons was beyond normal. It didn’t tug at the back of his mind as it did with others of his family. It yanked and tore at him, and had been that way for over a year, no matter how hard he tried to ignore the feelings. It was as if one specific dragon was calling his name at night, like a night-whisperer in a story.
Lately, the pull had become stronger, more intense, and more frequent. He hadn’t mentioned it to anyone for fear they’d laugh or ridicule him, but when he woke each morning, the dragon calling to him seemed real until the final whispers faded with the dawn. Over the last months, during the cool nights he felt the increased relentless pull and woke to look to the west.
He wouldn’t mention the dragons while at the council meeting. They might think him daft or gullible in some manner, perhaps a restless youth chasing a dream. But he’d think about dragons at the meeting and probably dream of them again tonight. When he woke in the morning, the dream wouldn’t fade this time. He would go and find his dragons, maybe a wife, and enough adventure to last a lifetime.
The flicker of a bonfire outside drew his attention. People were already gathering for the meeting around the central fire pit, and some carried chairs or small benches. Others unrolled blankets on the bare ground. Nearly a dozen people were already there, talking and guessing the reason for the meeting, and about who called it. This was Shell’s time. He resolved himself to refuse disappointment. If the council rejected his plea, he would still leave. He could do no less.
Shell watched the three elders sitting together on chairs facing a third, empty chair, waiting for him. They sat at ease as he approached. Instead of sitting, he began pacing as he eased his mind.
He kept his shoulders square and his chin up. The reluctance of the council to allow him to travel to Breslau was understandable. Leaving them meant Jammer would have to step into his shoes. The boy was young, but no younger than Shell had been when he assumed the herding duties a dozen years ago. Now in his mid-twenties, he knew the time was right, and if he didn’t leave now, he never would. Just because Jammer’s personality was different, or selfish, or self-centered, should not define Shell’s life and ambitions. His mother would be without a ‘man of the house’ since his father had died more than five years earlier, but it was time for Jammer to step up as he had so long ago. The village would be without one of its five warriors, but there hadn’t been a conflict needing a warrior on the plains for a generation.