Cassandra’s back was crowded with three passengers. Moira rode in front, with Gram behind her and Chad behind him. She had used a temporary spell to lighten their weight and another to cause them to stick to the dragon’s back.
Knowing they couldn’t fall off helped with their anxieties, but she could tell they were still uncomfortable. She smiled to herself as she listened to the hunter swearing quietly to himself. Gram on the other hand remained silent, but his hands were clenched into fists.
It’s going to be a long and tiring flight, said Cassandra’s voice in her mind.
We shouldn’t be too heavy, answered Moira. I lightened the load for you.
It’s more than that, responded her dragon, the three of you disrupt the airflow around me, so I have to spend more energy using my wings to keep us aloft.
Let me know if you get tired, said Moira. There’s no reason we can’t take breaks if necessary.
Grace flew beside them, her slender form keeping up with ease. She was still too small to help by carrying Gram, but she had been growing rapidly. In another month or so she might be able to carry a rider, judging by the rate at which the other dragons had grown after hatching.
The wind made normal conversation difficult, and they lapsed into silence. Moira wasn’t bored, though. Her mind was preoccupied with the ever changing vista around her. Despite their speed, the mountains seemed to pass by slowly beneath them. The sun might have been hot on their shoulders, but the frigid air did more than compensate for that. In fact, they were becoming increasingly cold.
Moira created a shield around the humans in a sloping dome-like shape to divert the rushing wind, and then she used a word to adjust the temperature within.
That’s better, noted Cassandra.
Were you cold? she asked the dragon, somewhat surprised.
I meant the strain of staying airborne. It isn’t perfect, but you aren’t creating as much drag now, explained Cassandra.
That wasn’t what I was aiming for, but it’s good to know, thought Moira. She was still relatively new to flying, but she was learning that it was more complicated than she had originally realized.
They only had to stop twice before nightfall. After their second break, they flew until dusk had deepened to the point that they could barely see. Magesight was a poor substitute for normal vision when flying, given its range limitations. Without moonlight, they were resigned to finding a place to stop in the mountains.
The eastern edge of the Elentirs was still more than an hour’s flight away, and although the mountains were getting smaller there were still no towns. They were saved from a rough camp when they spotted a sturdy cabin in one of the valleys.
It had smoke coming from the chimney, so it was definitely inhabited. They landed several hundred yards away and hoped that the dragons hadn’t been seen. Moira could only imagine what sort of panic the sight of a beast as large as Cassandra might cause.
I will sleep here, the massive dragon told her.
She nodded, Thank you, Cassandra. I wish you could stay with us.
It is no hardship. Morning will arrive soon enough.
Grace wasn’t quite as content. She knew she was small enough to accompany them within, but her form was still a problem. She was tempted to suggest using an illusion so that she could accompany them, but in the end she kept her thoughts to herself. It would be cold on the mountainside, but she would be warm enough if she stayed beside the larger dragon.
Chad took the lead as they approached the wooden building. “Let me do the talkin’.”
“I can speak for myself, thank you,” said Moira immediately.
Gram winced at her remark. He already knew better than to argue with the ranger on most matters.
“Yeah? An’ what do ye plan to tell ‘em when they come to the door?” replied the hunter wryly.
“The truth,” she answered. “We have nothing to hide.”
“I’m the daughter of the Count di’Cameron. Would you mind putting us up for the night? I’m just out searching for my lord father in the mountains. We won’t be any trouble. Do you think you could spare some tea?” responded the ranger pitching his voice higher to imitate hers.
She glared at him, “I do not sound like that.”
“Don’t be so sure o’ that, princess,” said Chad.
“Nor am I a princess…”
“That ain’t the point,” he interrupted. “Ye may not sound like that to yer own ears, or even to mine, but to people who’re livin’ out here in the wilderness, that’s how ye’ll come off. They’ll be scared half to death at the thought of someone like you bein’ here. Worsen’ that if you tell ‘em yer the daughter of the Count.”
Moira graced him with an angry stare but held her tongue for a moment as she considered his words. Chad Grayson never failed to irritate her, but she couldn’t deny his logic. Finally she spoke again, “What would you have us do then?”
“Let me talk. Yer my daughter, Gertie, an’ he’s my son-in-law, Gram,” explained Chad.
“Why does he get to keep his own name?” she protested.
“Fer one, it ain’t that uncommon a name, but yer’s is a dead giveaway.”
“Son-in-law? You want them to think we’re married?” added Gram.
Chad laughed, “Ain’t no one gonna believe a great brute like you is my son, an’ there’s no way ye could be brother an’ sister.” He looked at Moira then, “Oh, an’ we’re gonna have to tell them ye’re slow. Try not to talk. Stick to grunts if ye can.”
Moira’s eyes went wide, “What?!”
Gram began chuckling at that.
“This isn’t funny,” she told him angrily, before turning on Chad. “Shouldn’t he be silent too? We both grew up in the castle.”
“Yeah, if he talks too much it’ll be a problem, but I think he can get by if he sticks to short sentences. Gram’s spent a lot of time hangin’ around the barracks an’ talkin’ with yer father’s soldiers,” said the ranger. “Ain’t that right, Son?”
“That’s right, Pa,” answered Gram, snickering.
She looked back and forth between the two laughing men, growing more annoyed as they continued to laugh. “Mebbe ye should consider that this big lout ain’t the only one who kin act differ’nt if needs be,” she said suddenly, using a thick accent.
The two of them began to laugh harder, until Gram had to gasp for air.
“What’s so funny?” she asked, puzzled.
“Please stop!” begged Gram. “You’re killing me here.”
Chad smiled at her, “I’m convinced now. Don’ say a word girl, from here on yer a mute. Gram, can stick to short sentences, otherwise stay quiet. Yer a very shy boy. Ye ken me?”
“Okay, Pa,” said the young warrior.
“This really isn’t fair,” said Moira, shaking her head.
“Can you disguise us?” asked the hunter. “Our clothes will give us away sooner’n our voices will.”
She had already thought of that. Anyone could tell by the fine leather and linen of their outfits that they were far from peasant folk. “Don’t worry, Father,” she told him with a sarcastic grin. “I know just the thing.”
A few minutes later, they were inspecting each other. Moira had gone over them with a light touch, altering their appearances with several minor illusions. Their clothes were now scuffed and worn, while their skin looked to be smudged here and there. Chad was notably missing one of his front teeth, and Gram had acquired a bad case of acne with pimples dotting his cheeks and forehead.
“I don’t think all this was strictly necessary,” said the hunter as he looked at himself in a small mirror she had with her.
Gram chuckled until he looked over the other man’s shoulder and saw his pocked cheeks reflected there. He gave Moira a sour look. “You don’t look any different, other than your clothes,” he told her indignantly.
“You had to have some reason to marry a poor girl who couldn’t talk,” she shot back, tossing her hair over one shoulder with a look of innocence.
“Some would say a woman who couldn’t talk was a bonus, not a drawback,” muttered Chad.
Moira’s eyes twinkled with amusement, “Would you like to be bald and hunchbacked as well?”
Gram laughed, “Good one, Gertie!”
“Let’s go,” said Chad gruffly, “before she gets any more nasty notions in that head of hers.”
***
The man who answered their knock stepped into the front yard, closing his door behind him. He studied them suspiciously, and his eyes frequently lit on Gram’s broad shoulders. The young man’s size clearly made him nervous.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“Pardon us fer intrudin’,” began Chad. “We won’t be botherin’ ye much. It’s cold out, an’ we were hopin’ we could impose on ye fer a place to shelter fer the night, even the barn would be fine. The wind gets to bitin’ somethin’ fierce at night.”
“You’re a long way from civilized country,” replied the man. His words held a strange accent which Moira supposed must be because they were already on the Dunbar side of the mountains. “Who are you?” added the cabin owner.
“Chad Grayson,” answered the hunter truthfully, “an’ this here’s my daughter Gertie an her husband Gram.” He held out his hand, “Pleased to make yer acquaintance.”
The other man ignored his proffered hand, “What are you and your kin doing out here?”
“We’re lookin’ to find a place in Dunbar,” answered Chad. “Drought last year ruined our farm, an’ the tax man wasn’t so understandin’… if ye take my meanin’.”
“You crossed the mountains?” replied the stranger incredulously. “Damn stupid thing to do. You’re lucky to have gotten this far. There’re smarter ways to get there.”
Chad scratched the back of his head while projecting an air of embarrassment, “Well, we was in a bit of a hurry.”
The silence stretched awkwardly for a minute before the man spoke, “You must be strong to have made it this far. The Iron-God bids us to honor strength. You can sleep in the barn tonight. There’s a small stream that’s safe to drink running about thirty yards to the west. You can find water there. I can’t afford to offer you food.”
“We appreciate it,” said Chad gratefully, ducking his head.
“Steal from me, and you’ll regret it,” added the stranger. “We don’t abide thieves here.” He turned away, as if to return to the house.
“Thank ye, sir,” said Chad quickly. “We won’t cause ye no trouble. I didn’t catch yer name…”
“Clarence,” said the man, stepping inside. “Stay away from the house,” he added as he shut the door. They could hear the heavy sound of a bar being dropped into place.
The barn wasn’t particularly spacious, having only one empty stall and a small hayloft that held little hay. Moira guessed that the rocky mountain valley didn’t provide much in the way of summer hay to be stored. The stall probably belonged to the big boned mule she sensed in the distance. Clarence must have left it out to forage since the weather wasn’t too cold yet.
Aside from the loft and the stall, there was only a small storage area that held a variety of tools. Chad led them up a ladder into the loft.
“You surprised me,” Moira told the ranger once they had settled in.
“How’s that?” asked Chad.
“I’ve never seen you so polite before.”
Gram laughed at that.
“Hah,” said Chad. “I show respect when it’s due. These folk live a hard life, an’ they’re helpin’ us out.”
Comparing his current behavior to his normal surliness back home, she wondered what that meant for his opinion of her family.
Her thoughts must have been written on her face, for he addressed them directly. “Nobles get more respect than they deserve,” he added. “Yer father knows that, which is why he lets me speak as I please. An’ it’s why I continue to live there.”
“So you don’t respect my family?” she challenged.
The hunter grinned, “Nah, I’m sayin’ yer father is a wise man, an’ I honor his wisdom by bein’ my normal asshole self.”
Moira frowned, not quite sure what to make of that remark.
“Even a nobleman needs an asshole now and again,” added the hunter.
Gram chuckled, “Every man needs an asshole—at least once a day.”
She looked from one face to the other, “You are definitely a bad influence on Gram.” Her tone was serious, but her smile let them know the humor wasn’t lost on her. “By the way,” she added, “there were two other people in the house.”
“Family?” asked Gram.
“I presume so,” she replied, “an older woman and a younger one, probably close to my age.”
“That explains why he kept his door closed,” observed Chad.
“He did seem unusually fearful,” she agreed.
“You’re probably the only reason he let us use the barn,” noted the hunter.
“Me?” she questioned. She also observed that the hunter’s accent had become less noticeable now that they were alone. It seemed to vary with his mood and the situation.
“Way out here men get lonely. With you along, he wouldn’t be as worried that we’d be desperate,” explained the ranger.
Moira’s brows furrowed, “Desperate?”
“Yeah,” said Chad, “You know—to get…”
“Don’t finish that sentence!” interrupted Gram, blushing furiously.
Moira felt her own face growing hot as his meaning sank in.