Obstacle Course
Sitting on the bed, I looked out the window at the bright blue sky and the turning leaves fluttering in the light breeze. My window was open, letting the wind brush across my face, carrying with it the rich scent of the forest.
I closed my eyes and took in the peaceful moment, letting all the day’s worries drift away.
My mind began to wander, and small flashes of strange memories flitted before my mind’s eye.
I felt as though I shouldn’t be remembering these things like they weren’t mine to know.
Then the same distant figure appeared in the corner of my eye.
Why was it that I kept seeing this apparition in my thoughts?
Just when I tried to focus on the image, it blurred out of sight.
I opened my eyes and sighed, frustrated, feeling like I was being teased. Every time I got closer to seeing clearly, it vanished like a ghost.
Catching sight of the books and scrolls on the small table near the window, I pushed myself off the bed and walked over to them, randomly picking up one.
The book was a record of the clan’s finances for the past several years.
It was a very detailed listing of the jobs that had been taken, how many men were required for each, the food and supplies needed, and how much it cost overall.
From what I could tell, the clan took half the payment up front, which always covered the cost of food and supplies.
Then, when the job was finished, the rest was collected, and the men were paid their share after the clan’s treasury took its cut.
As I flipped through the pages and glanced over the information, I was stunned at how well-run this operation was.
I also noticed that the dates between jobs became longer and longer, with the amount paid up front hardly covering the cost of doing the work.
The clan had also stopped taking its cut.
Instead, the men would get the whole amount.
Ballard made the choice to stop the deduction so his men could be better provided for. My respect for him grew the more I learned about him.
I set the book down and picked up another.
This was a list of every clan member, including deaths, births, marriages, and deserters—every possible piece of information about these people that could be written down.
I noticed a staggering change in the clan’s numbers started fifty years ago.
That must’ve been when the King’s Guard began actively hunting them down in earnest. Women had all but stopped having children in the last fifteen years.
At this rate, if nothing changed, the mercenaries as we knew them would be extinct in another forty to fifty years.
What shocked me the most was the growing number of deserters, mostly women.
The clan’s ratio of men to women was three to one, which certainly contributed to the lack of children being born.
My bet was the women weren’t willing to risk the lives of their husbands or children for a dying way of life.
I closed the book and shoved it away from me angrily. How dare they put me through all this to prove myself when their members wouldn’t even think twice about abandoning the clan? I couldn’t do anything for these people if they didn’t want to fight for it themselves.
I glanced at the scrolls, dreading what could be written on them. I noticed one was much older, slightly yellowed, and well-worn. Gingerly, I unrolled a section and was surprised to see it was in another language.
I knew this language—not well—but better than anyone else I’d met.
It was a dead language, after all. It faded out of use when our lands had been taken over generations ago.
I’d learned it on a whim when I found an old text in my father’s library, but Father and I didn’t get a chance to work on it often with everything else my mother had me learning.
I stood up and unrolled the rest of the scroll on my bed to see if my guess was accurate. The dead language changed into our current dialect, confirming my hunch. It was a genealogy of the past royalty and dragons of this clan.
I looked around the room, trying to see if I could find some paper and a quill to write with. It would take me a little time to work out the translation, but this was one thing I knew I could do, and having a translated copy would be helpful in the future.
Walking to the desk in the corner of the room, I peeked into the first drawer, and sure enough, everything I needed was there and ready for me.
I set the writing box on the desk, pulled out a quill and paring knife, and cut a new tip.
I found the ink powder, mixed it with water in a small glass container, rolled the scroll to show the first three entries, and set to work.
A knock sounded at the door, but I ignored it, working on a particularly tricky section.
When I didn’t answer, it opened, and I looked up, surprised to see Cole standing there with a tray of food.
A glance out the window showed the setting sun—apparently, I’d been working on this scroll all afternoon.
“More comfortable with books and scrolls than people, I see,” Cole commented as he walked in and searched for a place to set the tray.
I scrambled, collecting the strewn papers to make space. “I guess. Studying is something I’ve always been good at. As you can see, it’s easy for me to get lost in it.”
Cole looked over my work, raising a brow.
“So your father decided you learning the old tongue wouldn’t sully your reputation?
” Before I could answer his question, he picked up a sheet and looked over my translations.
His gaze shot back to me. “Shit! You’ve almost translated all the entries in the old tongue! This would take most people years!”
Shrugging, I looked at the papers before me.
“I love puzzles and things that challenge me. Though, being a lady, I was rarely given anything challenging to do. My father and I would have battles against each other sometimes, even if they were only on paper. He used this dialect to send messages to his army, and I intercepted them. Well, I guess in hindsight, he let me so I would learn it better.” I smiled, remembering our game.
“What a strange mouse you are. Most women your age wouldn’t be caught dead playing at war games,” he said, not looking up from my work.
Were we actually having a conversation without one of us getting pissed at the other? I’d never seen him so relaxed. Most of the time he’d been so defensive or angry. This was a whole new side to see.
As if he noticed his change, he straightened up and cleared his throat, turning to leave. “Make sure you don’t stay up too late. Morning comes early for trainees.”
Apparently, we’d reached the limit of his ability to be nice.
After he left the room, I rested my chin on my hand and thought over what just happened.
Not only did he bring me dinner when I missed it, he’d stayed to talk.
I mulled over what could have possibly happened this afternoon for him to change his attitude so much, but my thoughts were cut short by my stomach rumbling.
I rolled up the scroll and collected all the papers, setting them on a shelf so they wouldn’t get dirty.
“Cass,” Vasin called, scaring a yelp out of me.
“Don’t do that, you scared me half to death,” I thought, exasperated.
“Apologies, I will try not to startle you next time, but you need to get used to me doing this so it doesn’t distract you.”
“You’re right. I was just so lost in my own thoughts that it caught me off guard. Did you need me for something?”
“I just wanted to check on you and make sure you were feeling better.”
“Things went great with Ballard, just like you said. Oh, and I even started translating a scroll for the cranky historian.”
“I’m glad all is well.”
“Are you close by? It’s strange to talk like this when I could talk to you face-to-face.”
“I’m outside your window.”
I peered out the window, and sure enough, there he was, sitting with his tail wrapped around him like a cat.
“I will be right out,” I called aloud.
I grabbed the tray of food, jogged down the stairs, and flipped open the latch with my elbow. Helena was humming to herself as she cleaned the dinner dishes, so I tried to slip quietly past her, not wanting to bother her.
“Don’t go too far from the clearing, there are dangerous animals out there,” Helena called after me. “Although I guess your dragon should be able to keep you safe.”
Shaking my head, I smiled as I walked out to Vasin. I should have known I wouldn’t be able to sneak by Helena. Maybe someday.
“What is the scroll about?” Vasin asked as I settled into the fold of his front legs.
“The one I was working on is the record of the past rulers and their dragons, but I had to translate half of it,” I shared, dunking my bread into the stew on my tray.
“Did you find anything interesting about your predecessors?”
“To be honest, I didn’t really read what I was translating. I got into a rhythm, and I just went with it. I’ll go back later and read it all, then I can really focus on the information.”
“Hmm. That is wise. If you need any help, I would be happy to assist you in your translation work.”
“You can read?” Vasin’s chest rumbled as he laughed at me. “How was I to know you can read? Can you write too?”
“I have not tried to write, but I believe I might be able to… though it may be difficult without human hands. As for the reading part, I have generations of knowledge I can access, and it seems many dragons have picked up reading over the years.”
I thought about that for a moment, and it made sense.
Of course, people would want their dragons to know how to read.
It was a perfect way to gather and transport information no one else could access.
Having a dragon as a mercenary could make a huge difference in how information was gathered and used.