The Last Dragon: Book Two

CHAPTER TEN

I t should not have been unexpected. If I’d have had the presence of mind to think about it in advance, I’d have known, but the great dragon suddenly flew past our stern, her head turned to us as if she was searching for Kendra, which I was sure she was. The sight drew not only my attention, but that of the other passengers standing on the small deck, and that of the sailors. A buzz on talk broke out, excited but subdued chatter where hardly a single word was clear. Most of them had never seen a true dragon before, and probably most had never even seen a more common snakelike Wyvern.

That was an unfair criticism, I chastised myself. Wyverns were not to be taken lightly. They were the size of houses. Until the very day we departed Crestfallen Castle, I’d never even seen a Wyvern. My first had held me as spellbound at the people around me who watched the true-dragon fly past. It appeared nearly as large as the ship instead of a house, so their reaction was normal and should have been expected.

“Beautiful,” an older woman near me muttered, her hands held to her mouth in wonder.

A man beside her growled, “It won’t be so beautiful if it attacks and sinks this ship.”

“Oh, my,” she said, her voice fearful. “Do they do that?”

I caught her eye and shook my head. The great beast was flying closer, still searching intently. I reached out with my small magic and gave the woman the impression a mosquito had landed on her neck. Her hand slapped, and she examined her palm to see if she’d gotten it. That tiny action raised my spirits, and I felt like giving a wave to the dragon as thanks for allowing me to use her magic powers.

Emma had moved closer—and behind my leg. She wrapped both arms around my thigh and peeked out at the dragon as I watched the banks of the river slowly pass by. People on the shore paused at their activities and most waved. The ship picked up speed, and two other ships slowly sailed up the river. The same venturesome crowds stood outside and watched and waved to the other ships where most returned the action. It seemed a custom, or requirement to recognize people on ships. Perhaps it was a wistfulness to exchange places and go where the ship sailed from.

I listened to those nearby more than watched, as my eyes remained fixed far away. Eavesdropping is an art I’d learned early in my life at Crestfallen Castle, and I excelled at doing it. It’s all about the eyes, not the ears. Looking at a person told them you were listening. The opposite was also true. Not looking allowed them to freely express themselves as if you didn’t exist. People who were close spoke openly as I looked at other things, pretending interest. I learned the food on the ship was served to passengers who stood in a line, the dining room was far too small for the price we all paid for our passage, and the crew couldn’t care less. We who occupied cabins below decks would empty our own chamber pots, only over the stern, and only after testing the wind direction. Our valuables, of which we had few, were at risk because no doors had locks and thieves abounded. The purser had locked storage.

The breeze picked up, and the tilt of the ship increased, along with a few small rises and dips of the deck. My stomach gave a turn at another mention of food. I reached for a handrail. We neared the mouth of the river, and the ship’s movement made me queasy, so I went back to our cabin with Emma in tow. She didn’t seem bothered at all by the ship.

The narrow passageway and closed-in feeling made my stomach worse. Nearly stumbling into our room, I found coats hanging from hooks and the floor clear of all but the bedpan. Both hammocks were strung and occupied by sleeping women.

I gently closed the door again and said, “Emma, let’s go explore.”

She smiled as if she understood my intent if not the words. We went back out onto the deck and found we were still confined by railings placed on three sides. One was the rear of the ship where the contents of the chamber pots were dumped—and it smelled like it. Emma guided me away from it to the side railing of the ship where we watched the water curl around the hull which was almost as fascinating as watching a campfire.

A woman mentioned the galley, and we followed her to a set of stairs leading up. There we entered a room that might hold forty friendly people.

The tables were tiny, each with a lip around the perimeter which was to keep the metal bowls and tumblers from falling off in rough weather. I’d overheard that, too. Nothing was breakable. Chairs were bolted to the floor to prevent movement in storms, each so small they looked child-sized. I didn’t figure that out either, it was another valuable tidbit learned from eavesdropping and snooping on the conversations of others. Small chairs meant more diners in a smaller space.

The good news was they had food for passengers set out on a sideboard. Not that I wanted any, but Emma’s eyes bulged at the sight of piles of crackers, slices of yellow cheese, apples, and small, individual loaves of bread. I said, “Yes?”

“Yes,” came her hesitant echo. Food was a great incentive for learning our language.

“Yes,” I confirmed with a wave at the table laden with the food. My intention was to reinforce the few basic words we had scribbled on the paper until she knew and understood each. With luck, those would lead to more words.

A couple got up from a table, and we claimed it. It sat four, and a young man and woman with features much like ours stood in a corner and attempted to juggle their food as they ate while standing. I caught the eye of the man and pointed to our empty seats.

They came our way, smiling. He said something indistinguishable, and I shrugged, not understanding a word. Emma responded for us, and they sat. Her manners seemed to be impeccable. The woman asked her a question, and Emma replied without an accent, “Damon.”

Her introduction didn’t end there. They talked and ate, the eyes of the couple on me more than on Emma. Clearly, they expected me to respond in their language. The man stuck out his hand and said, “Damme.” He nodded to the woman, “Hanna.”

As with the girls and Penna, the beginning of each name was pronounced hard and after a slight pause the second syllable. I duplicated them when repeating the names. Emma seemed pleased to communicate with others in her native language, and I was content to sit still and hope my stomach would calm down from the ship’s motion. Overall, it presented an interesting problem. They could speak with Emma, she with them. I couldn’t speak with any.

Kendra and Anna entered the dining room, and we introduced them. Kendra asked if I’d been outside and noticed the dragon flying behind the ship. It was not really a question, but information passed to me in case others listened. We drew attention, both in the Port of Mercia and here. Somewhere on the ship, there was the man who boarded with us, the one who had watched me before slipping into the bowels of the ship. His presence bothered me, perhaps more than it should, but there were good reasons for my fears.

Not even we’d known of the voyage until just before sailing, so that precluded him from following us. We’d purchased the last cabin. That meant he had to have purchased his passage before us. Instead of interacting with those at the table, I lost myself in trying to catch up on what was happening. We were not on a social voyage, but one with possibly deadly consequences.

Emma touched my leg to draw my attention. Damme and Hanna were standing to depart, and I’d been absently rude while my mind was elsewhere. Kendra and Anna were holding up my end of the table-talk. My mouth muttered something inane as I smiled and glanced around at the other tables searching for the unknown man who had watched me.

After our experiences with mages and the various forms they’d used to attack us, my outlook was overly suspicious. Inwardly, I knew the more likely reason for the earlier stare had been the recognition of a man who has spent a night or two in the port of Mercia, and where everyone knew us by sight. His curiosity for my presence on the voyage would be natural.

That’s what I tried to tell myself. It’s not what I believed. There is an odd thing about the eyes of a person. If all others are looking at you in a crowd, all but one person, that says there is a reason. If one person refuses to look, it is usually because they do not want to make eye contact. After that follows the obvious question of asking why? Then there was his unusual action in avoiding me by entering the doorway to the passenger quarters.

Kendra said, “Are you going to remain in this foul mood for the entire trip?”

“There was a man looking at me on deck.”

“Did he do or say anything?”

My attempted eyeroll was to be a duplicate of hers when she was upset with my stupid questions, but it failed in one way or another as both Kendra and Anna fell into fits of laughter. I decided the sea air outside might clear my thoughts. After standing and taking a few steps, I remembered Emma. Looking around, I found her at my heels, also smiling.

The wind struck as the door opened, almost pulling it from my fingers. We stepped out on the deck and saw water. Both sides. No land in any direction as far as I could see. Suddenly, the ship felt very small. The motion of the deck was steady as if the wind pulled it along and it couldn’t roll. It was easy and restful. The popping of the sails, the tapping of rigging, and the shouts of orders to the seamen were all reassuring.

An officer stepped up beside me. “Excuse me, sir. Are you feeling all right?”

“It was just a little closed in.”

“Ever been on a ship?”

I again hesitated. I may have when a child. On impulse, I concentrated the air behind the officer and pushed it forward at the officer. His cap tilted, and he reached for it without thought or concern. I said, “No, this is my first time.”

“Destination?”

“Dagger, the capital of Kondor,” I said lamely, planning to explain little else. The magic with his cap was not so much a trick as it assured me the last dragon was nearby, even if I couldn’t see it, or at least near enough for my small magic to work.

The officer said, “Good weather for this time of the year. A squall here and there, but they usually don’t last long. It’s the rolling of the surface when a good storm kicks up over a few days that get to passengers.”

“I’ve heard of that. How long is the voyage?”

The officer cast me an odd look as if I should know the answer. “Five days to Trager, six more to Vin, which is located in southern Kondor, of course. Not much there to see, but we carry a little cargo and make the stop about twice a year. Then three more days of easy sailing to Dagger.”

Princess Elizabeth opened the door and emerged with a personal guard. Her eyes didn’t find me, and she wandered to the railing and looked out to sea, much as I had been doing. That action told me to restrain myself and not speak to her until told. Kendra had been right in her assessment of Elizabeth’s actions. Still, it was odd to ignore a woman who had shared her private quarters with my sister and me for ten years. She must have had a good reason.

If she had not wished us on the voyage, she would have said so, and at the first port where we stopped, she would have placed us on a return ship. But she had sent word for us to purchase passage. The problem we, Kendra and I, had was simple. We didn’t know what was happening or why she acted that way. We would put our trust in her as always.

“Trager,” I said the name easily to him. “I’ve heard of it. Have you ever been there?” That was a complete lie. The name had been a stranger yesterday, but at my mention, Elizabeth stiffened, and her head cocked. She was listening to us.

“Many times,” he boasted. “It used to be a favorite port of all sailors. The waterfront was as wild as the women if you know what I mean. The city was ruled by a king too old to walk, but he wouldn’t give up his crown. Those were the good days.”

“And now?” I asked with a familiar chill descending over me. Trager seemed to have a similar story as Dire, so far.

“The eldest son now wears the crown, but they say he is a weakling only interested in his wine and women. Meanwhile, the city goes to ashes. At least three great fires have about destroyed it, or parts of it. The people are starving.”

“I don’t understand.” My confusion was not contrived.

He rolled his eyes back as he noticed some minor infraction or mistake by one of the sailors on the main mast. With a scowl, he called, “Secure that bitter end.”

A sailor reached for the end of a rope swinging free and fastened it to a ring with a couple of loops. That gave me the opportunity to glance at Elizabeth from the corner of my eye. She had moved a step or two closer but still watched the endless sea and a few gulls circling and calling for scraps.

The officer said, “Pardon me. Where was I?”

“Telling me about the fires in Trager,” I prompted.

“Oh yes, damn pity, but what else can you expect when the crown doesn’t pay for basic services? No constables, no fire brigade, and even the tax-men left their positions for lack of pay. The city went lawless for a while, and a fire broke out near the center and burned most of the taller buildings.”

“You said there were three great fires.”

“And many smaller ones. Over a period of a few years, the central part of the city almost destroyed itself.”

“Then, why is this ship going there?”

“Profit. There are six passengers on the ship who paid handsomely for the ship to divert enough to deliver them. Normally, we’d just hit Vin and then Dagger, a nice triangle for carrying passengers.”

“No freight?”

“Not to speak of. This ship was built for passengers, and she sails faster than any cargo ship. Listen, we can talk later, but I have to check the entire topside before dark.”

After he’d left, I realized we hadn’t exchanged names, which was a shame. A talkative officer would be a valuable source of information.

Elizabeth said to the man at her side, “Our destination is the third port the Gallant will put into?”

“Yes, Princess.”

“I will wish to go ashore in the first port, the one called Trager.”

“We will be prepared to escort you. There are tales of danger and lawlessness in that land, and you may wish to reconsider.”

“No, I plan to meet with two old friends there, in private. When they know I’m ashore, they will doubtlessly spy on me and know to meet me at the place I desire.” She turned and entered a doorway that indicated it was for first-class passengers only.

Hopefully, her cabin was far nicer than ours. But, the conversation with her bodyguard outside, within earshot of me, indicated she was more speaking to me than him. She wanted Kendra and me to follow her ashore in Trager and meet in secret. How she intended for that to happen, I had no idea.

Glancing down, Emma was still at my side, grin intact. My parenting skills were sorely lacking, but her skills at staying with me and remaining quiet were exceptional. It could be that she was a quiet child or just her lack of speaking our language, but that didn’t strike me as accurate. The girl knew when to be quiet and to remain out of sight with adults.

“Emma, why don’t we go over our list of words one more time?” The sheet of paper came from my pocket and threatened to blow away in the wind. I held it carefully and knelt at her side, starting with the word at the top. Twice she anticipated the following word and said it in our language, we had done it so many times. I started again, this time with the word at the bottom and worked my way up.

“So, this is where you two hang out,” Kendra’s voice chided me. She held the bedpan while Anna tried to keep as far away from it as possible.

A crosswind was blowing, and my instinct was to tell Kendra about it but had learned not to anticipate problems with her. She resented my interference and took it as belittling her. Of course, if it was something she didn’t know, and I failed to mention it, I was also wrong. It was the same with Elizabeth. Life as a male in a household dominated by a pair of young women is a trial.

At the corners of the stern of the ship were scuppers for the purpose of disposing of the waste. They were funnels a few feet long designed to send the contents on their way with the wind, however, with a stiff crosswind blowing, a person not wishing to wear the blowback would use the one downwind. She made as if to use the wrong one, but just as my words began to emerge, she smirked and changed and used the other.

She returned to my side, her eyes lowering to the bedpan. “Have you inquired as to the needs of Emma?”

To quickly change the subject and attempt to hide my ignorance and lack of parental duties, my explanation was, “Elizabeth was up here for a few moments. When the ship reaches port, she wants us to follow her for a clandestine meeting.”

“Good. Maybe we can figure out what is happening. Did you decide what to do with the girls?”

“No. I guess they’ll have to go with us.”

“Really?” Her eyes rolled, and Anna giggled at the action. She might not speak our language, but she certainly spoke the language of women. “That’s the best you can come up with?”

“We have four days to figure that out before reaching port. You can’t expect me to learn everything the first day.”

Kendra relented. “I suppose you’re right. Can we eat an early meal and go to bed early? I’m exhausted.”

Anna hadn’t had much direct contact with me, not like Emma, but she took a step closer and took my hand in hers. She squeezed as she flicked her eyes to her left twice. I glanced that way and found the same man watching us. His head turned slightly, and he looked out to sea as he leaned on a railing—and refused to look back at me.

Her action was so similar to the one of Emma in the same circumstances, I wondered if their parents had taught it to them. In this case, the four of us, and him were the only people outside on the small deck. It is natural for a person to observe others, especially those with children. Most will say something pleasant—or sometimes not so pleasant, but in each case, they will address the adults.

He was not of Kondor, at least his features were not thin and tan like the four of us. He stood smaller than me but heavier, and older. His eyes were fixed on the water, but he could see us from the corner of his eye. From his tiny reactions to our conversation, there was no doubt he understood Common, the language of Dire.

As I was about to dismiss him from my thoughts, behind his head, a motion caught my attention. At first, I assumed it was a seagull, but the movement of the far-off wings was wrong for that. It was the dragon.

Without turning to look in the direction of the dragon, the man suddenly stiffened. His entire posture changed. He stood erect, and his fingers gripped the railing tightly as his head turned and his eyes searched. He found the dragon and watched.

What struck me, was that he had known it was there before turning. I was convinced of it.