He started to sit, but Robin barked, “Is that all?”
“All?” he stumbled, standing tall again. “What else is there?”
“Are you wed?”
Gentle laughter floated on the night air. Shell shook his head, too embarrassed to speak.
Robin said, “There are young women here who are already whispering about you, so I’m assuming you may have to run away from this village to escape without a good wife.”
The chuckles turned to gales of laughter, from men and women, old and young, and Shell felt the heat rise in his cheeks. He attempted to sit again, but Trace called over the laughter, “Tell us about the red dragon.”
Shell squared his shoulders and remained upright, glad for the change of subject. He gave them a short, accurate account of the incident.
A woman asked, “Then it was not a true bonding?”
Shell turned to her, a woman a few years older than him, with a child asleep on a blanket near her feet, and an infant held bundled in her arms. “No, at least not what I know of bonding. There was no mind touch, just the normal feelings on my back when a dragon is nearby.” He didn’t mention the night whispers.
“You say it was small?” A new voice shouted from the rear.
He held his hand up to indicate the height of the red dragon. A few chuckled at the idea of a miniature dragon, but most remained respectful.
“But you believe it was an adult?” the same voice called.
Shell drew a breath. “It was only the second dragon I’ve ever seen, and the only one close up. But it was missing a claw. The wound looked like a battle scar but healed. There were other scars, all healed. I’d think it would take years to gather that many wounds and let them heal, but again, it was the only dragon I’ve ever been close to.”
The same man asked, “Trace, what did you see?”
“An old dragon the size of Shell. A Red. I’ve never heard of such a thing, but I what I witnessed is the same as Shell’s story.”
“It licked and sniffed you?” a boy sitting near the fire asked.
When Shell nodded, the boy said, “Did it scare you?”
Shell said, “I think so, but not really if that makes sense.” He started to sit again, angry at the small dragon somehow diminishing his stature in the Clan, and the idea that it may not have bonded because of the wolf interfering. His mood had turned foul, and he didn’t want to talk about a diminutive dragon. A great Red would have placed him in the same category as Raymer.
Before he could sit, Trace said in a voice that crackled with authority, “You have not told us about the she-wolf.”
CHAPTER TEN
Trace’s question about the wolf took Shell by as much surprise as it did the rest of the Dragon Clan. No word of it had been uttered by him or Quester, so no one should know of the wolf. Shell had hoped to sit and let Quester answer most of the questions for the remainder of the council. Don’t lie. Speaking at a council meeting entailed a trust that could not be broken. If the subject of the wolf had not come up, he would be guilty of omission, a serious offense, but for a good reason. He didn’t know what was happening with him and the animal, so didn’t know how to explain it. But the subject had been raised, and he had no option other than to speak, fully and truthfully.
How did Trace know about the wolf? “The wolf? Yes, I do need to talk about it, but hoped to do it in private with Myron and get his opinion on what I should say in public because there is so much I don’t know. However, this is what I do know. A large wolf has followed us for days. I can ‘feel’ her in my mind, and I know she is right over there.” He pointed to a stand of nearby trees. “She has protected me twice, and I think she obeyed me when I told her to cross the road to the other side, but she may have done that anyhow. In short, I don’t know hardly anything.”
“Can you see through her eyes? Hear what she does?” A tall woman asked, in a not unfriendly tone, but not friendly by any means.
“No. At least I don’t think so.”
“Has she communicated with you?” A young warrior sitting with another, asked.
“She killed a deer and left a haunch for us to butcher and smoke when we were hungry. I’m not sure if that is communication or not. She warned me of highwaymen about to attack us.”
A woman at the edge of the crowd jammed a thumb over her shoulder. “You say she’s right behind me in those trees? Right now?”
Shell nodded and smiled as the woman shifted her chair to one side. Trace said, “Why were you going to be silent about the wolf?”
Speak honestly. “Pride. Because I am Dragon Clan. I hope to someday bond with a dragon, like all of you, but instead, a wolf got in the way.”
“What? You don’t like wolves?” someone shouted.
Several people laughed. Shell started to explain. “It’s not that. I like wolves, I guess, but I like dragons better.”
“Even tiny ones?” an unknown voice shouted.
Everyone laughed, and Shell finally sat, too embarrassed and tongue-tied to go on. This time nobody prevented him, and Quester stood. As the laughter died out, Quester turned to Shell and said, “First, I knew nothing of the wolf except that it was following us.” He waited for a laugh that didn’t happen and cast an angry glance at Shell as if it was his fault.
The silence grew as if everyone knew something unusual was about to be said. Quester cleared his throat and continued, “Let me start with my earliest memories.”
He went on to reveal a short history of himself, his family and relevant information about a part of the Dragon Clan nobody present knew existed, as well as telling of the Blue Mountains to the east, and cities and kingdoms beyond them. Myron finally stood and held up his hands for Quester to stop speaking.
Myron said, “There is obviously a lot more of your story, but half of us are already asleep, and I should be in my bed. We will reconvene after our morning meal and chores, for more questions and information. But before we dismiss, I will ask that messengers prepare for departure tomorrow, late. The other families need to know this information as soon as possible, so please be in attendance tomorrow and pay attention. It may provide a means for some of our people to escape to safety if the Breslau invasion is successful.”
Shell stood and gave what he hoped was a confident and friendly look to Quester, then motioned to the stone hut. Once inside, Shell said, “I’m sorry about not telling you about the wolf, but didn’t know what was happening. I still don’t.”
“It brought us food and saved us from the highwaymen. How can I be upset?” The tone was bland, neither angry or accepting.
Shell spread his bedroll onto a sleeping mat, avoiding Quester’s eyes in the dimness of the hut. Only a small shaft of moonlight lighted the inside, but it revealed Quester’s awkward movements. While his voice sounded friendly, his actions were not.
Shell said softly, “I wanted to bond with a dragon. A fierce fighter that can defend the Dragon Clan.”
“Instead, you found a stunted dragon not much larger than you. Or your wolf. The three of you make quite a trio.”
There was no mistaking the sting in the tone Quester used. Shell lay awake, thinking. Sleep did not come quickly as expected. Nobody had mentioned Camilla, and he had been as much as accused of withholding information at a council meeting, for which he was guilty. His only friend was upset with him. There would be hard questions and answers in the morning. He didn’t look forward to it.