Camilla was Dragon Clan, and she should know all, even about the wolf bonding. She would understand at least a portion of what happened, more than the boy. Henry was a different story. But Henry couldn’t be shut out completely. Henry didn’t know about the red dragon because he’d been unconscious when it attacked the farmers and house so that part of the story could be skipped. The actions of the wolf might be explained away, but it would take a tall story, and Henry would not believe it the wolf was a dog, and probably hadn’t from the beginning. He could perhaps tell Henry that he’d found and raised the wolf from a pup and they were used to working together.
That story almost worked. It didn’t explain why he had started running at the end of the trip, just before finding the cabin that stood behind him. How had he known of the danger to Camilla? How could he explain he knew they were trying to catch up with her? But maybe he could add to the truth, and skimp on details.
His mind selected details and tried to fill in answers, no matter how poor they sounded. What if Shell explained that the wolf had howled, and Shell heard it. That was the signal so he would know to hurry. Perhaps the howls were so far away that Henry hadn’t heard them, but Shell was used to listening for them, and his ears always listened for the wolf. The story was weak, maybe wouldn’t be believed, but it might work if he refined it.
Glancing at the cabin showed a candle or lantern now provided light inside. He saw Camilla hunched over something, then moving from one place to another as she examined the contents. She cleared off a small table and placed it near the door and sat something upon it.
Turning away, Shell found a pile of firewood large enough for three nights, and Henry hurrying to find more. The boy wouldn’t meet his eye. He shifted thoughts to reach out and sense the wolf that was nearing the end of the second concentric ring around the cabin. She again avoided the area where the bodies were tossed and found nothing but a small overgrown road or lane leading west, probably leading to the nearest town or village.
Camilla strode from the cabin, a book held in her hand. She said, “Point me to where you moved the two dead men.”
“You don’t want to go near them.”
“I don’t want to, but will. Where are they?”
Shell pointed.
She followed the drag marks and headed into the forest. He wondered if he should go too, and quickly decided that for now, he needed to stay away from her. Her eyes had flashed, her mouth was set, and she walked like a general at the head of an army, back straight, shoulders square, head up.
He’d seen his mother act similarly during hard times, and because of her actions she now sat at the head of the council, respected by all, and probably feared by some. Camilla surrounded herself with the same sort of reserved confidence as his mother, defying anyone to get between her and the goal.
It wouldn’t be him. A shovel stood against the side of the cabin, a handle with a thick wooden blade. Shell carried it to a place not too close the pile of firewood and scooped out a shallow hole, so the coals and embers didn’t escape and burn down the forest. He set to making a fire, and when he looked up, Camilla had returned, her face pale on the last glow of the day.
She walked to him and nodded her approval at the woodpile and fire pit as she handed him two sheets of paper. “Do those look like the two men?”
The drawings captured the main features of both, but he had no idea of why she’d drawn them. “Yes, very detailed and you’ve managed to catch their likenesses. I’d know them from your picture.”
She nodded, then pointed to the sketch in his right hand. “That one has scars on his forehead and cheek, so he was easy. The other has a nose too big, but if anyone has seen them, they will recognize my drawings, I think. Can you put them in your backpack and make sure they stay dry?”
“I have an oil-skin case for tinder that will keep them.”
She turned and walked to the cabin again, just as Henry came up behind him. Henry said, “She scares me.”
“Me too. But she almost died and is emotional. We’ll give her some time.” He tossed more wood on the fire, placing a few larger pieces on top so they’d burn longer and he wouldn’t have to watch it as closely.
Henry said, his tone flat and even, “Lucky for her your wolf knew when and who to attack.”
Shell turned around to respond, choosing his words carefully, but Henry was walking away gathering more firewood they didn’t need, as he stooped to pick up another branch. Shell turned back to the cabin and watched Camilla from a distance, feeling lost to both of them.
She placed another item on the small table outside and went back to her searching. He wondered at that but decided to let her remain inside if she wished, undisturbed. As darkness overcame them, Henry unrolled a blanket and sat near him, both watching her move from place to place inside.
She had started just inside the door to her right and methodically worked her way around the room, touching and examining everything slowly and with care. Now and then she carried an item to the small table. The cabin was not large, and she had almost finished, when she pulled to a stop, looking up.
“What’s she doing? Henry hissed.
“Don’t know.”
As if she’d heard their private conversation, Camilla turned and motioned as she called, “Come here.”
They looked at each other. She hadn’t specified who should go, so they both leaped to their feet and rushed inside where she stood, pointing. “What’s that look like?”
Following her pointing finger, Shell saw a bump on the center beam of the cabin, far too high to reach, but odd in its placement. The color matched the wood of the beam, but a smooth curve against the rough-hewn beam looked odd.
Henry eagerly pulled the single chair from the corner and stood on the seat while reaching up. At fourteen, this was more of a game, and the grin on his face said he was enjoying it. He slid what appeared to be a wooden bowl nearer to the edge. If it had been pushed a few inches further back, in what was probably its normal resting place, she would not have seen it hidden up there. Only the careless placement revealed the lip of the bowl, larger than Henry’s hand, and he lifted it as if it was very heavy.
When he lowered the bowl by handing it to Shell, the coins inside almost spilled over the side. It was full of coins of every size, color, and metal. Camilla lifted one and read the name stamped on the back, “Demaria.”
Shell found one and read, “Arunta.”
“I’ve never heard of those places,” Henry said. “But look at the pretty woman’s face on this silver one.”
They sorted through the coins, wondering and speculating on the origins, values, and why there were so many different and unusual coins, and from unheard of places. Camilla said, “Travelers. They carry money from their homelands. They have to buy food and supplies while they travel so they carry fat purses.”
Shell wondered if any of the strange names were from across the grasslands where Quester had lived. He said, “The mountain pass, we came through is the link from east to west, I guess. How are we going to return all this? We don’t even know who the people were.”
“Or how long those two have been killing and stealing,” Henry said. “They might have been doing it for years.”
Camilla tossed more of the coins back into the bowl after briefly examining them. She said, “The three of us need to sit and talk. About a lot of things.”