The Last Dragon: Book Three

CHAPTER THREE

Damon

As the morning star found its way above the eastern horizon and escorted the sun above the peaks of the far mountains, the Slave-Master and I were still playing the same game of blocks with my freedom at stake.

He said, “Why are you called Damon?”

“I am an orphan, along with my sister. That is the name she used for me, so it is now mine.” I contemplated my next move at the game of blocks quietly, my eyes never leaving the assembled blocks on the small table in front of us.

“Do you speak the language of Kaon?”

“No.”

“A damon in our language is a minor demon or irreverent god. It is a clever being who often appears unexpectedly and uses nasty tricks to have his way. A trickster. Is that who you are, Damon? A trickster who does horrid things to have his own way.”

Instead of instantly denying it as my impulse suggested, I gave it some thought. The first thing that came to mind was that everyone encountered who spoke Kaon would think of me in that way. Perhaps until arriving back on the shores of Dire, I should change my name and be called by another, one more respectful. It was something to think about but not now. His revelation had already distracted me from the game, which was probably his intention. His definition might even be a lie to disrupt my winning streak while I fretted. I snapped sternly, “The name fits.”

He laughed in a way that made me wonder if he was teasing about the name or if Damon meant what he said. I didn’t trust him at all. I’d have to ask one of his guards what the word meant and hoped the Slave-Master hadn’t instructed them to agree with is definition in advance to trick me.

Everyone else, including his almost naked women and muscular guards, were asleep. The Slave-Master was a formidable and determined player, bluffing only enough to keep me honest. The equal piles of coins he’d originally distributed had ebbed and flowed across the board all night. Once, near midnight, he’d had me almost broke, but two sixes on my tiles had won a small pot for me, then another larger pot followed, and eventually, I had most of the coins moving my way as the tide of the game shifted to me.

Then, the tide changed again, and the coins returned to his side. Part of that was my fault. I’d wagered too much on a middling pair of fives. His stack grew to twice the size of mine, but as luck is fickle, the next hand had three threes dealt to me, a winner most of the time. I raised his bet, and he called. A portion of his pile returned to my side. We were nearly even again.

The night had passed without much talking. The Slave-Master was used to winning, and he was a fierce competitor. I chided him about losing, and his eyes became flat, his attention redoubled, and he won three hands in a row. I shut up.

He yawned and said, “Will you trust me to keep our piles in my keeping until we can continue our game tonight? You can count them to make sure you have the same amount when we continue to play the game this evening. Right now, I need some sleep.”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Then, you can place the money into two purses and keep them on your body if you lack trust in me.” He didn’t sound offended.

I used the same flat tone as him. “No.”

“No? What the hell do you mean, no?” he screamed loud enough to wake everyone in the camp.

I raised my eyes to meet his and said softly, “I understand that I am your slave outside of this game. Within the game, you agreed to play dead-man’s rules. That means we don’t stop until one of us wins and the other is out of coins. If you wish to forfeit the game, please say so and accept you are the loser and that I have earned my freedom.”

His face grew red with anger. He slammed a fist down. “I didn’t expect the damn game to last all night. I can’t stay awake. Besides, we have to move the camp and prisoners today. There is a lot of walking before we reach the slave houses in the city of Prager.”

I fixed him with my best stare and refused to flinch or stand. To make my position clear, I slowly dealt the next hand and examined my tiles as if interested. When I met his gaze again, I said piously, “Yet you expect me to go out there in the desert sun and march in leg-irons all day after being awake all night, and then play my best game against you tonight? Hell, you’ll probably ride in the shade on top of a wagon with all these pillows and carpets where you will sleep the day away. Then you will play when I’m so tired I can’t stand upright without help. No.”

He had the decency to look chagrined because I was right.

I continued, “Send your guards and slaves on ahead, if you want, but if you try to quit or suspend this game, you had better kill me now because if you do not, I’ll spread the word to every kingdom that has a scribe to read what I’ll tell them about you. The Slave-Master of Kaon is a cheat at blocks and does not keep his word. Never gamble with him and spread the word to everyone you know.”

He drew in a huge breath and allowed it to escape as a low whistle. “At this rate, the game could go on for days.”

“You should have thought of that before accepting the rules.” I wouldn’t allow him to wiggle free. A hundred times during the night I’d been tempted to use magic to change the spots on the tiles and had resisted. Adding or removing one spot would have given me the game a dozen times over, yet I’d held off to be fair. I hadn’t found him cheating once, and I could honestly say the same for me. We were perfectly matched.

Besides, he knew nothing of my sister and her pet dragon waiting to swoop in a rescue me—which meant he was overmatched. With her help, I could go free at any time, but he didn’t know it. However, there was the integrity of the game to consider. I would beat him fairly.

He turned to the nearest guard and ordered the camp broken down and moved. He ordered them to remove the tent over our heads, and if necessary the carpets and everything else. If the game was still in progress, they were to depart quietly, leaving only the small table we used, and we would catch up. Then, he turned his attention back to defeating me with renewed vigor.

They struck the tent. The carpets were removed, rolled and loaded on wagons. We moved only enough for the last one to be taken from beneath us. I ignored the slaves and guards, all of which were staring in fascination at the crazy pair of us, neither as much as looking up to see what was happening.

He was more than a good player. He was very good. He was prideful in his skill at the game. Aside from that pride, he had few detriments, and his pride was how I’d use him to get my way when the time was right. He also had a ‘tell’ when happy. Twice he had powerful hands that might have ended the game, but I forfeited the pots early and lost minimal amounts because of it. Watching for his left cheek to twitch was not cheating. He was free to do the same to me as part of the game.

Gradually, the stack of coins again shifted my way. Gradual because greed always loses at games of chance, so I had to play conservatively. We had both played cautiously early, protecting the coins we had rather than risking them on aggressive bets. He saw the subtle shift in my style and played a little more aggressively, which was a poor choice for him. Twice he lost hands he shouldn’t have played. The game reached a point where one good deal would allow me to take the remainder of his coins. His face grew redder as he realized the squeeze game I now played. I took no risks and bet only small amounts or folded my hand unless I had a sure winner. He won a few coins here and there, and I did the same. However, I took all the larger pots, or I didn’t play. He grew frustrated.

Near midday, he glanced at the only three remaining coins in front of him. His hand was probably marginal, but he lacked the coins to continue playing if he lost them. He slid all three to the center as a final challenge. A bluff. I saw no sign of the facial tic that indicated he held any power tiles, so I carefully matched his wager. When exposed, his hand was poor, mine worse. The pot was small. Instead of scooping up the winnings, he settled himself back and said, “Why?”

“Why?”

“You knew you would lose that hand. You held nothing but played, anyhow. That is not like you.”

I said, “Perhaps I misjudged.”

“What have I missed?” He settled back, pulling away from the table as he considered what happened. His voice was as cold as a mountain stream in spring. “You knew I’d win that miserable hand and yet you played anyhow, drawing my full attention at the prospect of a winning hand. Are you trying to delay the game by letting me win small amounts, so it continues forever? If it is your plan, that won’t work.”

“I admit that I did it to distract you, but not to delay the game,” I said.

“Why? That makes no sense.”

I placed my tiles in front of me, face down. “Your only bodyguard who remained here to protect you was taken prisoner at the point of an arrow while we played that hand. He is now tied with strong rope and is weaponless.”

The Slave-Master nodded once. He accepted my explanation without even glancing behind to see if it was true. He knew it was. “So, you were playing two games.”

I lowered my eyes to the table. “This one is not over. You are a good player.”

He didn’t turn as my sister advanced into the clearing with the massive guard hobbling in front of her. His hands, legs, and ankles were tied. She used my sword to prod him now and then and to remind him of who was in command.

“Are you ready to leave, Damon?” she asked.

“No,” I muttered. “I have a game to win.”

“If you lose?” the Slave-Master asked.

I looked at him, his dark skin glistening in the heat. “I gave you my word. The rules remain the same.”

He bent over the table and examined his new tiles. I watched for the tic but decided it could be from a good hand or from the respect I gave him in keeping to our rules. He ignored Kendra as if she was not there. I didn’t see or hear the girls but assumed they were close.

Kendra said to me in the tone equivalent to a sisterly eye-roll, “You’re going to sit there in the hot sun and play that silly game all day?”

“If that’s what it takes. If I lose, you will have to leave me here as his slave.” I saw the rebuke coming from her and shook my head. “Sorry, I gave my word.” Then, I turned my attention back to the game. He won several small pots; I won a few larger. The distribution of the coins remained the same until well into the afternoon when he adjusted his position, and I noticed the tell again. He had a strong hand and intended to play it hard. He stood a chance of earning back half the coins on the table in one hand.

However, as luck often provides, I had four fives. Only four sixes in his hand could defeat me, and I held one of those sixes along with my fives. In short, there was no hand that could defeat mine. His hand might be strong in normal circumstances, but mine was better. He wagered conservatively, hoping to draw me in so he could later increase the wager and take more of my money.

I did not know his hand, only that mine couldn’t be beaten, so his didn’t matter. I let him bet to match my wager while fighting to keep my face placid. Even the hint of a smile would warn him, and he would throw in his hand. He raised again, and I hesitated theatrically before finally and hopefully appearing reluctant to match his wager. As I wished, he pushed all of his remaining money to the center, nearly half of everything we played for was now there. I matched his bet. He displayed a very good hand with a confident smile. His tiles would win nine out of ten hands.

I showed mine. The blood drained from his face, He stood and stretched his legs. When his voice finally sounded, it was almost a reluctant grunt. “You are free.”

“Thank you,” I said while fighting the smile that threatened to fill my face. “Half the coins are yours to repay the generous loan. The rest are yours to buy my freedom. You are an honorable man, and I assume you will not attempt to capture me again.”

He scowled as his eyes fell to the bodyguard trussed up near the edge of the clearing, “Am I also free to leave?”

“Soon. We may keep you and your guard here for a short while, just to make sure there are no problems. And to ask a few friendly questions. Just conversation between old friends.”

The Slave-Master spat in the direction of his guard. “You can keep that worthless scum for yourself. He’s no good to me letting a slip of a girl like her to take him prisoner.”

The guard hung his head in shame. His eyes were damp.

I said, “Sir, there are two things you should know. First, is that my sister can probably defeat any two of your men in a fair fight, she can defeat any three of them in one unfair. Second, she has unseen help at hand when she requires it, which is not often. Kendra, will you call your backup?”

She smiled. I heard the sound of leather wings before the Slave-Master, but when he did, his head tilted upward, and he watched the dragon approach. It made a dainty landing at the other end of the clearing if the weight of ten cows smashing the earth can be dainty. The ground shook. The leaves and dust from the great wings took a while to settle. When it did, the dragon stood on all four legs peering at us. It sniffed, then snorted as if it didn’t like what it smelled. I didn’t like the smell of it, either.

“I stood no chance at winning, did I?” the Slave-Master asked dejectedly, while his eyes remained locked on the dragon. That was not a criticism, but just good sense. He’d never seen a dragon, probably didn’t believe in them, and to his credit, he hadn’t run off in panic at her appearance.

“The game of blocks was played fair, sir. Only how I left your caravan was at risk.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he growled.

I watched his face again, looking for the same tell as in the game. When I didn’t see he was bluffing, I said, “You had no intention of allowing me to buy my freedom.”

“I did,” he wailed, but it didn’t ring true.

But the facial tic was back. He was lying and expected me to believe him. He was not done playing with me, yet.

I said, “Here is what’s going to happen. You will send word with your trussed-up guard to release the slave called Flier, and he will be escorted back to where we are. Unharmed. I will purchase his freedom at a fair price that you decide.”

“In return for what?” he said, the slyness in him returning.

Kendra stepped forward. “In return, you will not be the evening snack for my dragon today. You will also answer our questions fully, and we will release you unharmed. When we are ready.”

“She’s right,” I agreed. “We don’t care about your slavery or where you’re taking these wretched people. At least, not yet. We do want to know more about that, and other information about your homeland and the rulers. And mages. When we’ve educated ourselves to our satisfaction, you are free to join your people. You have my word.”

“If I don’t cooperate?”

Kendra must have communicated with the dragon in the way we were slowly becoming used to. It stood on its hind legs and roared, then stomped the ground, its forefeet landing uncomfortably close to me—and to the Slave-Master. The nearby bodyguard strained to roll away and break free, his face pale and scared as the feet landed.

“Send him to get your friend. I agree to do as you ask,” The Slave-Master drawled as if agreeing to do as we asked. He was lying again.

I didn’t believe the Slave-Master at all. However, Kendra cut the ropes free from the bodyguard, all but those on his feet. She replaced the knife in her scabbard and said to him, “I can kill you a dozen ways before you take a single step. Do you believe that? I am a Dragon Tamer.”

Her use of the term was not the first time I’d heard it from her. Others had briefly called her the Dragon Queen, but that didn’t sit well. She decided ‘tamer’ better suited her relationship. I knew she didn’t know what either meant any more than me, but it sounded more ominous. It was one of the many things we needed to know and understand—but not today, at least not yet.

His hands shook, and his voice trembled as his eyes remained on those of the dragon that looked back. He was so close the stench of the dragon had to be overpowering. Rotted meat and a reptilian body that hadn’t been washed since last rain, whenever that was. He stammered, “Y-yes.”

She continued speaking to the guard, “The Slave-Master requires the presence of the slave known as Flier. You will find him and return him here. Treat him well. Now, I’m sure you’re an honest man and all that, but just in case there are any problems, my dragon is going to fly above as your escort. She will protect you. She will also tell me if there are any problems or if you betray me, in which case, I’ll allow her to snack on as many of you slavers as she wants. But you will be first.”

His trembling increased.

Kendra was not finished. “My dragon now has your scent. It knows you. There is no place in Kondor or the Brownlands where you can hide that she cannot sniff you out. I want you to know that. If I order her to kill you, she will find you. If I were you, I’d cut my throat—however, my dragon also enjoys food that has been dead a day or two. She will eat you one way or another.”

“If I send your friend back?”

“You will not send him back because if he is attacked or harmed in any manner, you forfeit your life. Being a reasonable man, you will return with him to see that he arrives here safely, and I will then release you from this bond. If he is unharmed and arrives here alone and promptly, I give you my word to allow you to live. I will have no reason to be upset with you, and I may even toss a coin or two your way.” Kendra talked in a businesslike manner as if negotiating for the purchase of a wooden bowl in a public market. The directness of her discussion intimidated the bodyguard far more than if she had shouted and brandished a knife.

The guard’s eyes were still on the dragon. He nodded once. That was enough. Kendra cut the remaining ropes on his legs with a slash of her knife and stepped away. The guard backed off, then turned and ran. My sister looked at me and then at her dragon. It unfurled its wings and flew.

The Slave-Master said, “Gods, what have I done to deserve this?”

Kendra turned to face him.

He scooted back, putting a little distance between them.

She advanced and asked in a reasonable voice as if speaking over a friendly dinner, “Do you like children?”

“I-I suppose so.”

She looked at me. “Ask Anna to bring Emma here.”

*Anna, bring your sister and join us.* The mental touch was unreciprocated, although I believed Emma could have heard me as well if she allowed me to touch her mind. However, I couldn’t blame her for being reluctant to touch my mind.

They emerged from the edge of the forest, wearing their backpacks, and smiling. They rushed me as if we hadn’t seen each other for weeks.

Kendra sat facing the Slave-Master. “Do you ever think about the lives you ruin?”

“Farmers in my homeland need field-hands to work the crops. Cities need cleaners and servers, so they don’t live in filth. The army needs slaves to advance as the first line in battle.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” she persisted. “We agreed you would be honest with us or face my wrath. Tell me, do you ever think about the lives you ruin?”

“No. Never.”

“What about the lives of those who miss them? A wife? His children? Parents? Friends? What you do affects them as much as the men you take for slaves.” Kendra was growing angry.

He curled a lip and said, “I take women, too. Those are not my problems. I supply laborers. Nothing more.”

Kendra scooted so near to him he drew back again. Her voice grew so soft it caressed the air, “Do you realize how very lucky you are today?”

“Right, I’m a prisoner, I lost at blocks and had to turn a valuable slave loose, so I’m lucky,” he snarled the words as he spoke while trying to intimidate her.

For me, it was a test of wills between them. I was standing with the girls at the side of the clearing and watched their interplay, knowing the Slave-Master would lose the contest—but he wasn’t aware of it. Not yet, but soon.

Kendra said, “Yes, you are lucky because my stupid brother gave you his word. However, you need to consider this: You accepted his word about not harming or killing you. I led you to believe I gave mine too, but I didn’t, did I? And beyond that, my two little sorceresses who are now playing games with my brother promised nor implied anything.”

He spun to look at them, their sweetness and innocence clear.

However, she said before he gathered his thoughts, “Do you know that the small one, the one with the impish expression, once faced down my dragon? And another time, just using the power of her mind, she struck at the mind of a full-grown man so hard he was unconscious for a full afternoon?”

“That little girl?” the Slave-Master asked. His voice didn’t tremble or break with fear because he clearly didn’t believe her. He was interested.

“It’s true. She struck a blow inside his mind so hard that he woke up stupid and remains so to this day.”

I snorted in both humor and amazement at the tall tale she told about me until she spun to face me. She snapped, “Is there any part of that story that is not true?”

I simply shook my head in wonder at her turn of a word. Worse, maybe I had woken up stupid after Emma’s mental attack. The humor in the situation evaporated. The Slave-Master turned to Kendra and said, “Ask me anything. I’ll tell you the truth if you give me your word I’ll be set free if I satisfy you. Do we have a deal? You can go your way. I’ll go mine.”

She threw her hands into the air in disgust. “You are also a very stupid man, has anyone told you that?”

He shook his head in denial, his eyes narrowed, but said aloud, “Nobody has ever told me that who is still alive.”

Kendra climbed slowly to her feet. “Allow me to explain how you are stupid. You are so arrogant you do not listen. You think you can use brute force to have your way. Two can play that game, and you will be the loser.”

“So, you say. But you have not faced my anger.” His voice rose near the end and his face contorted.

“Tell me the truth, and I’ll set you free. I give my word. Those were your words to me. Your requirements. Is that still the deal you offer? Is that the best you can do? Because I will readily agree to it, however, an instant after I set you free as agreed upon, I will order my dragon to stomp on you into mush with one of her great feet. If you somehow remain alive, will you then agree that I was honorable and kept my word that I set you free but did not specify a time before recapturing you?” She flashed an evil grin his way. “Perhaps you want to reconsider.”

He smiled in the same way. “I would expect no less from you—and I have done what you suggest a hundred times. I lie, cheat, steal, and collect men to sell into slavery. I fight, swear, drink too much, sleep with other men’s wives, and once bit off the ear of a man and swallowed it to make him angrier. That’s the difference in us, little girl. You threaten me with violence. I have lived it.”

He was right.

I stepped closer to them. I looked at the Slave-Master. “Hear me well. You and I already have a bargain, and I will keep my part. After Flier is delivered here, you will be set free by me. What that agreement has not stated but you will understand now, is that after your release, should you return with men to attack us, or if you accidentally stumble across us at a stream crossing, or we spy each other across the vastness of a busy city market, you will die.”

Emma stepped beside me. She screwed up her little face, pointed her index finger between his eyes for so long sweat beaded on his forehead. Then, without an utterance, she shifted her finger to point at a small pile of dried leaves between his feet. It burst into flames, rising to his knees in an instant—and threatened to burn higher.

The Slave-Master leaped aside; his face drained of blood. Emma moved her finger and pointed it at his left eye. I held my breath, too scared for him to order her to lower the finger while knowing full well her finger had nothing to do with the flames she created with magic. I’d never used my magic in that way, which was to deflect reality and suggest my finger was a weapon. I wondered what else I’d learn from the little girl.

“Stop her! Ask me what you will,” he cried. “But get that finger away from me.”

Kendra glanced at me. Her worst threats, anger, and all the rest hadn’t scared the Slave-Master. He would have betrayed me, but in a way that kept his reputation intact. The easiest way would have been to kill me and leave my body for the ravens to peck and worms to eat.

However, now he stood and watched the last of the few leaves burn, and he said, “What do you want to know? Ask me anything.”