The Last Dragon: Book Two

CHAPTER NINE

P rincess Elizabeth rode a tall horse of a dark brown color, the coat so glossy and silky it almost looked like it reflected light. The polished hooves lifted daintily as if the horse danced when it moved. She sat tall and easy in the saddle, with a small troop of soldiers riding behind, two-by-two. Elizabeth rode at the head, unconcerned with appearance or propriety. Her clothing was ordinary, heavy pants and shirt, not homespun, but not far off. A brimmed hat held a raven’s feather, the ancient symbol of Dire royalty.

I watched the rear, expecting to see the guide we called Tater, but did not. Although she was still some distance away, the combination of the horse, her plain dress, and the feather warned us. She was proceeding as a princess performing her royal duties, not as our friend. There should have been a mayor or dignitary to greet her.

Instead, there was the pair of us—and the pair of little girls we’d rescued.

Kendra stepped closer to me and said in my ear, “Allow her to pass without greeting.”

“Any idea what this is about?”

“Only that a horse that has traveled hard all the way from Crestfallen should look weary and dusty,” Kendra said. “That horse was recently brushed, the saddle polished, and her pose is royally aloof.”

“Aloof?”

“The only word that comes to mind. Remember, she knows nothing of us freeing the dragon, or the destruction of Mercia. She may have heard part of it, but there is no telling what wild tales are running in circles in upper Dire. She will let us know our place. Until then, we wait.”

I couldn’t restrain myself as Elizabeth drew nearer. “Everyone in the port knows we’re with her.”

Kendra shushed me with a finger held to her lips. “She may not know. This grand entrance may be part of a state requirement.”

Which meant the king had ordered it. When we had departed Crestfallen, the king was too ill to delegate such an order. Princess Elizabeth rode past the City Gate—and us—without so much as a glance in our direction. It would have been hard to miss us, standing alone where she rode within touching distance. The royal escort, many of whom had gambled and lost their pay to me in times past, did the same. It was a well-rehearsed entry into the Port of Mercia. There was no doubt she had used stern words with them about how to react to us.

We stood, much as the rest of the people, off to one side as she rode past. People cheered and clapped, others bowed or curtsied. All were respectful. She rode down to where the roads leading down to the piers turned to the left, and she took the first as if she knew exactly where she wanted to go.

The procession of soldiers followed. She rode directly to a newer looking ship, the hull is narrower, the two masts taller. It was in conflict with the wide-bellied cargo ships with two or three shorter masts. She dismounted and walked up a wooden ramp that bounced with each step. A man at the top spoke briefly with her, and she entered a small door.

Behind her military procession, and until now unnoticed by me, were pack animals, and soon chests and crates were carried aboard.

As we stood watching, along with most of the entire city, a swarthy man shouldered his way between us. Turning to admonish his rude manners, his face was familiar. From Crestfallen. He was a common worker in the castle, a supervisor of small jobs and a man I’d seen a thousand times, yet never spoken with. He leaned closer and covered his mouth with his hand as if yawning. He said, “She sails with the afternoon tide. Book your passage now.”

He slipped away into the crowd unnoticed by all but us. Kendra had missed the short conversation. A sailor stood a few steps away. I moved to his side and said, “Excuse me, but can you tell me how to book passage on a ship?”

He pointed to a few business fronts facing the ships near the pier. “Booking office. One of them, depending on where you want to go.”

Taking Kendra by her elbow and anticipating the girls would keep up with us, I quickly wove through the crowd and into the first door. A man sat behind a counter, a pen in his hand. “Sir, can you tell me which booking office handles that ship the princess just boarded?”

“Winston Ventures, next office,” he pointed a finger to his right without looking up.

Outside, Kendra said, “What are you doing?”

“A message was passed to me. We’re to book passage on the same ship.”

She nodded, and we opened the door to find a small woman wearing a permanent scowl. Kendra said, “We wish to buy passage on the same ship as Princess Elizabeth.”

“To what destination?”

After a slight hesitation, she said, “Where is the princess going?”

“Now, how would I know that?”

Kendra said, “Okay, what is the most expensive passage I can buy? And where will it get me to?”

The scowl faded into a sly grin that indicated no humor. “It will get you right back here if you buy a round-trip ticket.”

“Then sell us a ticket to the farthest port—without the return trip. Three cabins, the nicest you have available, please.” Kendra managed to keep her tone civil.

Consulting a sheet in front of her, the woman ran a dirty fingernail down the entries. “Sorry, only one cabin available.”

“We’ll take it,” I said.

The woman looked up with a hint of compassion in her eyes for the first time. “You haven’t sailed before, I take it?”

“No,” I admitted.

She spread her short arms out wide, then adjusted the span to a narrower length. “The cabin is this wide. Two hammocks to trice, one above the other, so you have enough room to change your mind if there are only two of you. It’s below the waterline, so it’s wet and it smells of rot and mold.” Her eyes went to the girls.

Kendra said, “The girls go with us. We’ll manage in the cabin.”

“Extra cost for food for four. I don’t know how four will fit into the cabin at the same time. You might consider sleeping in shifts, but it’s your cabin if you have the coin.”

Kendra pulled her purse and waited. The sour-faced woman calculated her numbers. She gave Kendra the price and my sister counted out the exact amount before saying, “The king’s exchequer will review the cost before reimbursing me, of course.”

“Oh, there may be a miscalculation, I fear.” She scribbled a few more numbers and quoted a far lower number.

“When may we board?” Kendra asked with a superior tone now that she had caught the woman trying to cheat us even as she gave us good advice.

The woman handed her a signed receipt and said, “Any time before midday, but I’d suggest you spend part of that time gathering food for yourselves since you have not had the pleasure of sailing and the food served. Apples, smoked meat, hard crackers, anything that will help you avoid the ship’s food. You can’t cook on a ship, of course. Fires sink ships.”

It was good advice. On the way out, I left a half-copper on the counter and received a wink in exchange for her suggestions despite her attempt to cheat us. We went shopping, gathering the recommended items as well as a few others. Kendra tracked down the royal escort officer and told him where our horses were. She ordered him to take charge of them. She also explained Alexis was a gift from the princess and she would expect the horse to be treated as such. He assured us he would see them returned home safely.

I wished to return to the inn to say goodbye to Flame and gather our belongings from the watchful eye of the innkeeper. I needed my sword and new bow if nothing else. Kendra wore her new double-ended throwing knives, of course. We hurried back and reclaimed our belongings but saw no sign of Flame. Instead of eating there, we opted for a hot meal of stew in a restaurant near the waterfront with a view of the Gallant, the ship we would sail on as the tide turned. The current would help us move down the river, and out into the sea, we were told.

Not understanding our intent, the girls giggled, ate, and laughed out loud as I mispronounced words on the sheet in my hand until I suspected Penna had provided the wrong ones. However, Kendra assured me that was simply the way girls of that age acted when any adult made a simple mistake, and they knew the answer.

We sat at a small table on the wooden walk outside where we could watch the Gallant, hoping to see the princess and further hoping another passenger would arrive at our side and explain her actions. Instead, we saw cargo lifted by a crane and placed in the holds. Sailors did seamanship things, painting, cleaning, and repairing all manner of ropes, sails, and lashing cargo on board. When the ship sailed later, most of the work would be finished. For now, it all seemed confusing.

When the last of the cargo was aboard, and the activity on the pier slowed, we knew it was time to depart the restaurant. We gathered our few belongings and our sacks of food and walked down the slope to the ship where a man with gold braid on his sleeve waited impatiently at the top of the ramp for us.

“We were beginning to wonder,” he said in a voice with an accent I’d never had heard, a sort of twangy way of pronouncing each word. His eyes glanced cautiously at my sword and bow, both of which were carried in my hands instead of worn.

Kendra said, “We were told the ship wouldn’t sail until midday.”

“And here it is,” he said in a snide voice. “Midday. You’re the last to arrive. I am the ship’s purser.” Then he turned to another sailor and told him to lift the gangplank and standby to remove several lines from the pier. He turned back to us and continued, “We’ve been waiting a short while and would have soon sailed without you. In the future, please arrive well before we sail. If you’ll follow me, I’ll escort you below to your quarters. Were you told the cabin you’re assigned to was intended for two? Ah, two people of very limited means.”

“We were,” Kendra said shortly. “We’ll make do since it is all you have available. And thank you for waiting. We didn’t know the ship was ready to go.”

He moved across the deck with easy familiarity, dodging workers in one area, and circling wet white paint in another where there appeared to be layers and layers of paint. He opened a door, and instead of standing aside as manners on land dictate, he ducked and entered first. We trailed behind in the narrow passages and down a fixed wooden ladder one deck below, then another. The passages on the lower decks were so narrow we all had to turn sideways to move, and the question of accommodating obese people came to mind. Were they denied sea travel? The obvious answer was that people who could afford a steady diet of good food wouldn’t book passage below decks.

Ahead, a crewman approached and opened a cabin door to stand aside while we passed. The officer moved to the end of the passage and opened a door with a numeral two on a dull brass plate. Across from it on the other side was number one. Ahead of him, the passage ended with the point of the bow. We were as far forward in the ship as possible.

The cabin, if it was proper to call the tiny space that, was smaller even than the booking agent had indicated. The outer wall of the cabin was the hull of the ship as it bent sharply forward to the bow, and it slanted downward and inward, leaving barely enough room for our feet if the door was closed. The ceiling brushed the top of my head.

The forward wall and the rear had stout iron rings mounted, one above the other. At the forward rings hung two hammocks. The obvious solution was to stretch the hammocks to the rings at the rear for sleeping. There was no porthole. The air was thick and smelled of things better left unspoken. However, a metal chamber pot with a hinged lid explained part of it.

Kendra raised her chin slightly, an action that must have been difficult under the circumstances. She wouldn’t complain, therefore neither would I. If the girls could speak our language, they would have made up for both of us if their expressions were accurate indicators of their adverse feelings.

The officer excused himself and crabbed back down the passageway. Kendra looked at me and said, “At least we won’t forget where our cabin is located. Here, give me your bag of food, sword, bow, and we’ll try to organize things a little.”

At first, I believed her joking. There was nothing and no place to organize, from the little I could see, which was all of the few things we’d brought aboard in the tiny space. However, I was wrong again. On the forward bulkhead protruded several random nails of various sizes. She consolidated the food into three bags, using a method to sort that wasn’t apparent to me, and hung them. Our heavy outerwear was likewise hung, and she strung the hammocks while examining them critically for insects or filth. The dirty, heavy canvas had been white a long time ago.

I said, “There are four of us.”

She shrugged as if the number didn’t matter. “The hammocks are big enough to hold large men. Anna and I will share the top. Since you are larger, you will share with little Emma.”

The solution was understandable and probably the only one we could reach. However, there might be others. Of the two that came to mind, the other was sleeping in shifts and sleeping on the deck if it was allowed. “I’m going to take a walk around the ship.”

“Take Emma with you. Until we get off, she’s your shadow.”

Kendra’s imperial tone displayed her inner anger and frustration at our circumstances, not me. I said, “Emma,” in the way of Kondor, “Come with me.”

I took her hand and pulled her along the narrow passage to the ladder. Her clothing, like that of her sister, was sturdy and a poor imitation of ours. The pants were a tad long, her blouse made of the same thick material, and the stitches tiny which indicated care or cost. She climbed up first. At the top, I pointed to the door leading to the outside, and clean air. Once out there, a crewman muttered as he coiled ropes, “Passengers to the rear.”

There were at least a dozen people crowded into a small space at the stern where they were out of the way of the working crew. The Gallant was still tied to the pier, but the air above decks was clean and breathable if the smells of tar, salt water, and too many people in too small a space were ignored. The ship was fairly new, perhaps a few years old. My mind wondered what stenches would fill the decks below on ships ten years old.

Emma still had hold of my hand. There was little enough room to move about, but she clung to me like the last peach of the season on a low branch. Elizabeth was not in sight. She had probably taken the captain’s quarters for herself, and therefore had a cabin ten times the size of ours. If she and the girls, or one of them, moved in with the princess, the tiny cabin we had would seem almost spacious.

My second idea was to locate the officer who called himself a purser. He was the one who had directed us to our cabin. Despite his arrogant and rude ways, if the ship sailed and someone failed to board in time, there might be an empty cabin we could buy.

The number of people on the pier had fallen to a handful. Men stood beside the ropes as large around as my wrist, ready to cast them from huge pilings and free the ship. Sailors rushed around the deck, some had already climbed the masts, and others stood ready to perform whatever duties came their way.

As for me, I’d never been on a boat of any kind, not even one on a lake. The only ships I’d ever seen were within sight of me now. The ship Kendra and I arrived on when children if we’d arrived in Dire on a ship, was an unknown mystery and lost to time, so I excluded it.

Emma squeezed my hand to draw my attention. I glanced down at her innocent face. She furrowed her eyebrows in a comical expression and tilted her head to one side, indicating I should look in that direction.

Curious, I turned casually. A man, another passenger, stood there. His eyes had been centered on me. In a guilty fashion, he abruptly turned away when he noticed me looking at him. Even more curious, he rudely shouldered his way past a woman and disappeared behind another door I hadn’t noticed.

“Thank you,” I said to Emma, smiling as I did. She returned the smile.

My experience with children was minimal—actually I didn’t care for them, to be honest. They were loud, silly, not very smart, and often dirty. Emma impressed me as a child who was different. She’d noticed the man watching me and had let me know of his interest in a way that let me see him before he bolted. She didn’t talk all the time, but she didn’t speak my language, so maybe that didn’t count, but my feelings said that if she could speak, she wouldn’t.

While thinking about those things, I kept a sharp watch for others on the ship with an interest in me or my actions. The sense about the passengers was of expectation, and I realized most of the sailors were now at their stations, waiting for orders so they could spring into action. A tension had built. The captain emerged from a doorway and stalked his way from the stern to the bow, checking this, looking at that, and ordering the men with waves of his arm and curt shouts. Other activity had been suspended during his inspection, then suddenly increased as a signal was sounded via a shrill whistle, and more orders were shouted. The lines were slipped from the pier and men pulled the dripping lines onto the ship and coiled them neatly. A single sail was dropped into place, the breeze filled it, and the ship slowly swung away from the pier as if in no hurry. An open boat with eight men at the oars pulled us into the current of the river before that line too was slipped.

The Gallant was free to roam the great ocean.

The motion of the ship subtly changed, the activity level of the sailors never slowed, and as more breeze filled the sail, and the ship leaned to the left and moved slightly faster than the current. We were on our way. My heart raced. Wherever the ship carried us, our lives had just changed, and I knew it.