She took the robe and slid it on, covering the tatters of her dress. The sleeves were long and hid her dragon arms. As the folds of hide settled on her sparse frame, she realized that she could not leave the Village. Where could she go?
She turned back and hurried down the path, away from the yellow-eyed boy, back into the smoke-filled cavern. Keeping to the outer fringes, away from her kinfolk, she found a boulder and slid behind it. Even then she did not feel hidden. She leaned her head back against the rock and wished she could cry.
Why don’t you come for me?
Her fire sputtered like coals newly stoked but did not flare to life. Instead a great heaviness pressed her down. She rocked herself back and forth, her eyes closed, and images came to her head, images of a bell-covered hat and a comical face smiling at her. She let herself slip into dreams.
–––––––
Captain Catspaw and his eleven men stood in the courtyard of the Eldest’s House beside their horses. Not half an hour ago, word had come for him and his men to prepare for a long journey. “A journey where?” he had demanded, but the messenger had shrugged without answer. Now Catspaw and his men waited as Prince Lionheart paced before them, his face stern and set. A strange man in rough, brown travel clothes stood off to one side.
Prince Lionheart indicated him with a sweep of his hand. “Obey this man as though he were your own prince,” he said. “Follow wherever he may lead you.”
Catspaw blinked and adjusted his hold on his horse’s bridle. “Your Highness,” he said, “where do you send us with this stranger?”
The prince glared at him. “Your only concern is to obey, captain,” he growled. “But know this: You follow this man for the honor of Southlands, for the honor of your king. Do as he says; go where he asks. He will lead you to . . . to a great treasure.”
Captain Catspaw nodded. “And we are to bring back this treasure? For Southlands, Your Highness?”
Prince Lionheart did not answer. Instead he turned to the stranger.
His voice was tight but loud enough for each man to hear. “Is this all I can do for you?”
The stranger was silent.
Prince Lionheart set his jaw. “In that case, I wish you well in your endeavor.”
The stranger reached out and placed a hand on Prince Lionheart’s shoulder. “Come with us,” he said.
The prince shook himself free. “You know I cannot.”
The stranger bowed. “Then farewell, Prince Lionheart. We will meet again in coming years. But for now, farewell.”
Prince Lionheart made no answer but walked away, leaving Catspaw and the men with the stranger.
The stranger approached them and spoke in a quiet voice. “I am Aethelbald of Farthestshore,” he said. “Will you follow me?”
Catspaw and his men looked at each other, eyebrows raised, but Catspaw answered, “We will follow you, sir.”
“You will wish to turn back.”
Catspaw frowned and swallowed hard, but he replied, “We will follow you. For the honor of Southlands.”
Aethelbald shook his head. “That is not enough.”
Without another word he turned and walked from the courtyard, out through the front gate. The men, trading more puzzled looks, mounted up and started after him.
“Excuse me, sir,” Catspaw said, bringing his horse up beside the stranger. “Will you not be wanting a horse?”
“No, thank you, Captain Catspaw,” Aethelbald said.
Catspaw blinked. He couldn’t remember giving the stranger his name.
The twelve men on horseback followed the one man on foot. “Farthestshore,” Catspaw muttered to himself as he went. “I’ve heard stories about that place since I was hardly up to my father’s knee.”
The other men murmured under their breath as well. None of them liked the idea that stories such as those might prove real. Yet the strange man who led them did not seem fantastic in his person. He walked quietly out of Southlands’s capital and across the country, heading north. When he did speak to them, his voice was pleasant and calm. But as he led the way, the men began to notice how strangely he kept in front of them, always walking at the same pace. No matter whether the men trotted, cantered, or walked their horses, the stranger remained ahead of them without seeming to quicken or slacken his pace.
All day, Aethelbald led them away from the city. They crossed over the shining King’s Bridge to a farther plateau and on through villages and farmlands. But when they neared the edge of that stretch of tableland, Aethelbald did not lead them toward the next bridge. Instead he walked to the edge of the cliff and then disappeared over the edge.
The company gave Catspaw bewildered looks. But Catspaw was under orders, and he barked a sharp command to his men. “Follow him!”