The Last Dragon: Book Three

CHAPTER FOUR

Princess Elizabeth

Even a princess of Dire can feel lonely. I found myself thinking as I stood and watched the restless sea to the south. The ship rolled over or through the gentle waves with little movement of the deck. I felt my throat constrict, not from any physical force, nor from magic. It was all in my mind. The fear of failing as a princess. Failing myself, my father, and my people. There was also the fear of a storm at sea. With Damon and Kendra off the ship, for the first time, I felt totally alone with an overwhelming task in front of me.

Despite my personal feelings, I held my chin higher, as any princess learned to do as a child. Life as a noblewoman often meant putting aside my wishes in favor of the needs of my kingdom. Aside from the endless food, expensive clothing, and luxury apartment, there were barriers to my life—some as difficult to navigate as the ship through the coming storm.

Will stepped quietly to my side as if appearing out of thin air and paused beside me as if innocently brushing a piece of lint off his jacket in case anyone watched the two of us. He stood far enough away that it didn’t look like we were together, but just two travelers who are leaning on the same railing. From the side of his mouth, he said, “Are you feeling well, Princess?”

That question further depressed me. I’d thought my feelings were hidden and snapped at him, “Do I look ill?”

“Yes, you do.”

There had been no equivocation in his response. He spoke softly, and the ring of truth had angered me. But an odd thing happened. That small exchange raised my spirits, if only because he had the good sense to tell me the truth when I asked him a question. As a princess, people had always told me what they believed I wanted to hear my entire life. Will stood at my side and spoke the truth, as only Damon and Kendra normally did. I gratefully said, “Not ill, just scared.”

He moved aside without answering as if he understood my needs, and I believed he did. The next time I looked around, he had disappeared again, but I felt his eyes on me. It wouldn’t do to pick my nose or scratch my behind even if either needed it. However, I stood at the railing knowing he was watching over me like a mother duck over her ducklings.

That idea of being watched might have insulted another. For me, it was reassuring. While traveling with a small royal entourage, Will was the exception. He did not owe allegiance to any but my father, and thus to me in a secondary fashion. He didn’t travel as one of us, didn’t wish to advance himself in any way, or impress anybody, and as a result, he was the only one aboard I totally trusted. Aside from Damon and Kendra, of course, but they were ashore and headed for Dagger via a land route if such existed.

The Gallant did not sail out of the Trager Bay and turn south as it would normally have done to reach the small city of Vin, the next port of call. Instead, it continued to sail directly east, away from Trager and also away from Vin. The captain knew and had already faced the endless storm to the south that lay between the ship and Vin. No headway would be made attempting to sail in that direction.

A man, a salesman of rare spices, stopped at the rail and watched the same storm from a few steps away. “I’m glad the captain has the good sense to search for a way around. I’ve never been so ill as the last time we sailed into that.”

“He’s a good man,” I muttered.

“Some call him a coward.”

I turned to face the dour little man. He never smiled, and his remarks were often rude in the past, but usually in the abrupt way used by those who sell their products for a living are. It was not intentional, just part of the trade. “I don’t.”

“Nor I,” he said. “Safety at sea is always a concern. An overzealous captain may get us there sooner or sink the ship. I can swim, but when land is not even within sight, what direction am I to paddle?”

He had a point. Of course, the sun would provide the direction, but despite those who believe they know everything, much of the day a swimmer who lived on land would not know the direction. With the sun high in the sky, it was hard to tell, and a person might swim in circles.

I turned away and observed the few others venturing from their cabins. A woman and man, both friends of Damon, glanced my way, then averted their eyes in the usual manner of those who rarely interfaced with royalty. Their action assured me they were of a lower class.

There had been another man who also watched me, but he had disappeared while on our last voyage. Will gave me no information when I asked him about it, but his hesitation before answering was suspect. Some thought the man fell overboard. I thought he might have had help from Will in getting over the railing.

The ship made a slight turn in the direction of the storm after the sailors put up more sail and pulled ropes taut. The purser stood on the deck above where the wheelhouse was located. His eye met mine. I gestured for him to come. He did, slipping down a ladder and crossing the rolling deck as easily as a cat might.

“May I be of service, Princess?”

He was a stuffy, prideful man, but had his uses. “The extra sail?”

“Ah, the Gallant is a fine, fast ship. Slim at the waist and tall in the sails. The captain is trying to outrun the storm. The winds are higher near the storm’s edge so that we can sail faster.”

According to Kendra, there was a pair of ships on the other side of the storm, each with two mages. They were creating the impassible storm, preventing all ships from Trager sailing to the ports of Kondor by blocking the narrow passage. Without even knowing about the two ships, the captain might have stumbled on a viable solution.

The Gallant was a smaller ship than the usual cargo vessels in the nearby waters, with a narrower hull and more sails, as the purser had said. She was built for speed to please passengers and carried little cargo. If the mages were aboard a normal vessel, especially a fat cargo ship, the Gallant might easily outrun them and then turn and make her way south where the sea was wider and the water calm.

“Why are we sailing closer to the storm?” I asked.

The purser glanced around and moved a step closer as his voice lowered. “There are rumors that the storm is not natural. It does not move. Some say a mage caused it. If so, he must be on a ship.”

I feigned surprise. “And if we manage to sail around the storm? What will the mage do then?”

The purser’s arrogant demeanor wilted. He obviously hadn’t considered that outcome. His eye went to the bridge on the higher deck where the captain would be. “I think I’m needed.”

As he raced back up the ladder, I had little doubt that he was going to rush to the captain with a new question about the mage. No matter, the captain should be planning ahead. That was the function of his position, much like her father’s. He didn’t so much as rule, as he anticipated problems and solved them before they became major obstacles. Captains of ships are similar to kings; only their kingdoms are smaller and float. The job is much the same.

I left the deck and went past the door to my private cabin, and the next, which was for the storage of my belongings. The third and last was a cabin located on the port side for my aides to work in, an office of sorts. They were inside, maps spread, notes jotted, ink drying. The three of them were hammering out the details of a possible pair of treaties. They debated, contrasted, and argued every word, much as they would when we met with the ruler of Kondor. They had one treaty for a king to sign and another for a committee, a Council of Nine, depending on who we dealt with.

The three worked on verbiage, as well as what might be demanded, and what Dire might relinquish. There were lists of gives and takes. If we gave this, Kondor would agree to that. It was all going to be presented where we gave little and received all, however, those in Kondor would have their interpretations and demands. My staff tried to anticipate all eventualities and account for them.

“Princess,” Lady Grace said as she attempted a curtsy in the limited space despite my instructions to the opposite. The ship was no place for royal manners. She still wore a purple-yellowish bruise on her forehead and a cut under her eye from a fall during the last storm.

“How are you faring?” I asked.

Soren answered with the taint of disapproval in his tone, “If only Kondor would allow us to draft the entire treaty without their input.”

I’d never heard humor from him but laughed as if misunderstanding. By myself. He didn’t, Lady Grace averted her eyes to remain uninvolved, but clearly disapproved of him speaking like that, and Timor, a younger version of Soren simply looked confused. I said, “The ship is turning into the storm again. I don’t expect us to face what we did before, but you had better be prepared and have everything secured. No doubt, we will find some rough seas.”

The eyes of all three changed. The last time the Gallant had sailed into the same storm it had barely escaped. The people on my staff had never been to sea, and the mention of another storm instilled fear. I searched for calming, but true, words and failed to find them.

I went to my cabin and did as I’d suggested they do. Everything was placed where it was secure, and if possible tied down against the rolling of the ship. A knock at my door relieved me of endlessly preparing for a storm I didn’t wish to face.

When I opened the door, a man stood in the passage. He had boarded in Dire and sailed with us. His age was older than most on the ship, perhaps fifty, his hat was being wrung in his nervous hands, and his voice came slow and stilted, in a soft voice hardly above a whisper. “Princess, there are rumors.”

“There are always rumors,” I snapped. “Are you here to share some of them?”

“May I step inside? There are eyes and ears everywhere on this ship.”

I threw the door to my cabin open and stepped back. Why allow a man into my private quarters to spread rumors? I couldn’t answer that. However, it was too late. He closed the door as I curled the fingers on my hands into fists, just in case.

He noticed the action. “Princess, I mean you no harm and suspect you have been trained to fight to defend yourself and you would quickly defeat me.”

“You said there are rumors.”

“Some believe a mage is creating the storm to our starboard.”

I didn’t know if he had any useful information or not. We were feeling each other out, deciding what, and how much, to share. However, I was unwilling to provide fodder for his rumors if that was all he wanted. “The mages are blamed for everything.”

He swallowed hard; his eyes moved from mine as if he wished he’d never knocked at my door. Then, in a gesture of honor and pride, he squared his shoulders and looked me in my eyes. “Princess, I have been a loyal subject of Dire, as was my father and his. The rumors I carry may not be of substance, but if I did not bring them, and any harm came to my royal family, I could not forgive myself.”

He sounded sincere. A nod of my head allowed him to continue.

“I travel in my work, to all the southern kingdoms. The mages in many lands are killing kings, they say. They, the mages, take over and rule as councils or advisors.”

He seemed to believe as we did, but he was still holding back. “Mages have always supported the crown and helped Dire. You believe something has changed.”

He tilted his head as he heard footsteps in the passageway and didn’t speak until he opened my door a crack and peered out to be sure we were alone. Then, after a deep breath, he said, “There is one mage nobody knows, but there are whispers—he’s a very young one with ambitions of his own, ambitions beyond those of any king. He orders the other mages to do his will. Or they die.”

“They go along with that?” I asked, astounded at the idea.

“Not all. The same rumors say nearly half the mages in the known world that were alive two years ago are now missing.”

“Missing?” I mused while trying to understand both the basic concept and how it related to events in Dire. It seemed all too plausible. “What do you know of this young mage? How did you come across this information?”

He pulled back just enough that told me I’d gone too far with my rash questions and scared him or broached a subject he didn’t wish to discuss. A flash of fear crossed his face. His hand moved to the door.

I moved to place my foot against the door, so he couldn’t open it. My voice turned cold. “I don’t know who you are, your name, or why you are here except that you say you are loyal to my father. I will not share anything you tell me, nor will I spread your information about unnecessarily, but it’s probably best if you do not share any personal information. I’m sorry I asked about your source. You must have a good reason for what you’re doing.”

He visibly relaxed but his eyes remained on my toe blocking his passage. As if my words convinced him to add to his story, he softened his voice to a whisper. “My little brother was taken from us years ago. The mages did it. They came to our farm and left with him, and it nearly killed my mother. Now, he somehow manages to touch my mind when I sleep. At first, I thought they were dreams, but no, it’s him. Sometimes, months go by without contact, but then there are times he comes to me in the night, almost every night, especially in times of turmoil. He says to warn our king of danger. I am not crazy. It really happens, but you can send me away, and I’ll leave.”

“I know something of mages, magic, and many things that are better unknown. We understand little of it and try to live with what we see and understand what we can. I believe you.”

He was relieved, but his voice stayed soft, more of a hiss than a whisper. “He told me to speak to you in private and tell you what I have said. There is one more thing he wants me to pass on to you, the most important part of it, he said, but I have no idea of what it means, only the words he placed in my head.”

“Tell me.”

The old man hesitated for a brief instant, then plunged ahead as if he too was a ship sailing into a dangerous storm, “The woman dressed in blue light is, in reality, the young mage who is behind the chaos.”