The Last Dragon: Book Two

CHAPTER ELEVEN

A nna had let go of my hand, but she had known something about the man was wrong and had quietly warned me. That was twice the girls had done it. He had known about the dragon before looking, but she had known about him before that incident. She had taken steps to make sure I knew of him, and she had done it in a way that allowed me to observe the man without warning him. Her actions displayed wisdom far beyond her years. Again, I considered that she had been trained.

He kept his back to me as he watched the dragon first catch up with us, then fly past the ship. It appeared to be flying in the same direction but would arrive long before us. I felt Kendra’s eyes on me and ignored her. While the man was near and couldn’t see me because of his turned head, I used the opportunity to examine him in minute detail.

Kendra was doing the same, and the girls remained quiet, sensing we were busy. My mind reviewed what little I knew about other passengers. Princess Elizabeth had boarded with only four guards. The man at the rail was not one of them. However, this was the third time we’d had an encounter, while most of the other passengers still remained unsighted. There was little doubt he was watching and listening to us, just as there was little doubt he somehow knew a dragon flew in the distance.

Four more people emerged from the passenger quarters to stand on the deck, while Kendra motioned for us to follow her. She went to the tiny dining room and stood aside in the passageway until a table freed up. Anna raced off to place the chamber pot back in our cabin. We found bowls and spoons in piles and nearby a vat of cold fish stew. A table held loaves of fresh bread that must have been baked in the port before we departed since there were no fires on the wooden ship.

At the table, Anna started a game of ‘what is this?’ She pointed to her bowl and Kendra responded with the name. Then Anna turned to Emma and repeated the name as if she was the teacher. Soon they were identifying a chair, table, spoon, bowl, bread, and four or five other objects. They repeated them in an almost desperate manner as if determined to learn Common as quickly as possible.

Kendra said, as if reading my mind, “Most northern countries, especially those bordering the ocean, changed their language to Common hundreds of years ago to facilitate trade. Only a few southern countries did the same, and Kondor kept its own language.”

At the mention of Kondor, both girls reacted, twitching as if flies had landed on their noses. I said, “We’re doing this wrong. The girls are learning Common, but we are sailing for Kondor.”

“Meaning you and I should learn their language?”

I didn’t bother responding. The tone of her question told me any answer would be wrong. I ate instead.

She finally said, “You’re right. It won’t hurt for us to learn a little. She turned to Anna and managed to get her intention across. The girls liked that game even more. They pointed at something, and we identified it—or they laughed at our inability to learn. Our table drew more than one scowl.

I kept a lookout for the man at the railing, or any of Princess Elizabeth’s guards and found none. After we finished, the four of us went back on deck and watched the sunset with several passengers and then headed for our cabin. Emma and I stood in the passageway with the door open while Anna and Kendra climbed into the top hammock.

Then it was our turn. Emma climbed in like an experienced traveler while I struggled to both close the cabin door and get into the hammock. I couldn’t bend over and close it, nor could I stand because then the people in the upper hammock prevented me from climbing in because of the narrow space. Besides, if I managed to get into it, I’d crush a ten-year-old girl.

I was about ready to leave the damn door open when a giggling Emma slipped out and motioned for me to get into the hammock first. I did as she directed. She pulled the door to her, and climbed into the hammock with me, while still holding the door open only a little, and then closed it.

To my surprise, the hammock was large and roomy, with plenty of room for us to lay side by side. As long as I didn’t touch the hull where water slowly seeped between the heavy planks, we would remain dry, but I wondered how well that would work during storms or heavy seas. Within moments, Emma was asleep with one arm thrown over my chest.

“How are you doing up there?” I asked.

Kendra shushed me and said, “Anna is sleeping, and I almost was. Now be quiet.”

Offended, I thought of several scathing responses, but before I settled on one, the rocking motion of the ship put me to sleep. When I did wake, Kendra was using one foot on my hip to balance herself as she climbed down. She pushed the door open, and the light of the lantern in the passageway woke me. A tiny elbow dug into my ribs every time the ship rolled. I heard footsteps on the deck above and the creaks of the hull, along with the rush of water on the outside of the hull a handspan from my head.

“We need a routine for using the chamber pot,” Kendra said. “Only one of us will fit in here at a time, and I need to use it.”

At first, I thought her joking. It was the middle of the night. But, no. The tiny size of the cabin prevented the use of the chamber pot unless two of the other three left to stand in the hall, the third remained in the top hammock. We were not alone in waiting our turn at chamber pots. There were others awake and impatiently waiting in the passageway, the stench growing more alarming with each breath. Since our cabin was below the main deck, and partly below the waterline, little fresh air ever made its way down there.

I decided to make it my highest priority to find the purser and secure at least one more cabin upon docking when hopefully a few passengers departed. Until then, we’d make do if nobody wished to share a cabin. Perhaps I could offer a reward. After using the chamber pot and taking Emma’s hand, we left the other two alone in the cabin while we watched the sunrise.

While I was eating breakfast with Emma, the purser stuck his head inside, and his eyes found me. He walked directly to our table and said, “It has been suggested that you might wish to pay for an unclaimed cabin.”

“I would!”

He smiled as if he understood, but unless he’d been ordered as punishment for committing a grievous crime to stay in our cabin, he had no idea of the hardship a single night had caused. He said, “After you are finished eating, try to locate me.”

“What’s wrong with now?” I said as I wondered why he had sought me out. We had made no complaint—but Princess Elizabeth probably had on our behalf. Eating could wait.

He chuckled and said, “Well, then. Come along then. You can eat later.”

The cabin was inside the doorway leading to the passageway for first-class passengers. We walked down a well-lighted and clean-smelling hall where I didn’t have to turn sideways to shuffle ahead. Unlike ours, the entire deck was well above the waterline, and I suspected no leaks would weep trickles of salt water on the inside of the hull. The damp, musty, closed smell was lacking. He opened a cabin door that held a pair of small beds, one located above the other, an area to stand, a storage area for our things, and drawers under the lower bed. I couldn’t get over it. There was room to actually stand and dress. A curtain slid aside to reveal a small area set aside for the chamber pot, which sat on a small built-in stool with a rim around it for preventing accidents during rough weather.

Best of all, there was a tiny porthole, no larger than my outspread fingers, but it allowed daylight to enter, and a hinge on one side suggested it might open to clean air. The glass appeared thick and cloudy, but wonderful. “We’ll take it.”

He told me the cost of the cabin upgrade, which I assumed much of it would go to line his and the captain’s purses since the price of the cabin had already been purchased by someone who missed the sailing. The owners of the ship would be no wiser. I paid before he could get out of sight and sell it to another. I made no attempt to bargain. We shook hands as he assured me it was mine until reaching the second port in Kondor, and the only question that remained was if I was going to tell Kendra about it.

I used my magic to form a puff of air to move aside the curtain over the porthole, which assured me the dragon was again nearby as well as letting in more light. Before, the dragon had to be close, at least within sight, and usually near enough hit with a thrown rock to draw on its powers. Of course, that was after the mages were killed or run off. Earlier, my whole life, my magic was always present, even at the far end of Dire. From five day’s walk, her essence was always present.

As the purser happily departed the cabin, we remained, and my mind continued to churn over the same subjects. After Kendra freed the dragon, it was true that I had to be nearly in contact with it, or my magic was missing. Now, the dragon flew at a distance so far away I could not see her, and my magic worked. I wondered if that was true of other mages. There were two options. One was that I was becoming more sensitive, and the other that the dragon was becoming stronger or more readily gave up her essence to me. If she shared with others was an unknown.

We still had not eaten breakfast, and Emma was scowling at me for standing in the center of the cabin and looking at the featureless ceiling with pleasure. We left the wonderful cabin, which was smaller than the closet at Crestfallen where I kept my collection of boots, capes, coats, and hats.

The comparison gave me pause. Life is all about perspective. Many things are. The idea had crept into my mind without warning or precedence. It lingered as I adjusted my thinking to account for it. The boots I wore might not be my favorite pair, but they were better than being barefoot. For each item that sprang to mind, there seemed to be a worse alternative.

The food in the dining room was cold, bland, and dry. Salted fish and stale bread, along with warm water from a cask that tasted of age and algae. No wonder the woman at the ticket office had suggested we provide our own food to supplement the ships fare. However, using my new insight that things could always be worse, I had to admit that salted fish and stale bread was better than going hungry.

Before Kendra and Anna joined us, two of Elizabeth’s guards quietly entered. They ate and departed. Both were well known to me, and I had spoken to the taller of the two on several occasions at the castle. The shorter one had practiced his swordsmanship with me under the instruction of Nate, the Royal Weapons-Master. Neither showed me the slightest recognition. To anyone watching, they would think us strangers. Elizabeth must have given them strict orders about Kendra and me.

No sooner had my sister and Anna sat than Emma began an animated conversation with her sister. No doubt, she was spinning a tale of the wonderful new cabin. Kendra looked on, amused, but not understanding a word.

A pretty young woman at the table next to us caught my attention—more than the usual attention I paid to pretty young women. She also had the features of Kondor, but the woman she sat with was plump with light brown hair and fair skin. I had not seen anyone from Kondor who was not thin, and that struck me as another odd fact. It seemed a morning for insightful revelations.

The conversation the two women had earlier had been about their fear of storms at sea and the boredom of travel by ship. I’d heard it clearly, but now she listened to our girl’s conversation and giggled. She understood their language and the look she flashed my way said she understood that I hadn’t told Kendra about the new cabin.

“Excuse me,” I said as I leaned back in my chair to speak to them. “I overheard earlier that you are bored, and I have a need to learn a few words spoken in Kondor so I can speak with these two.” I motioned with my hand. “There is a chance for you to put some excitement in your days, and I can learn a new language.”

The one from Kondor said with a sly grin, “I might put some excitement into your days . . . or nights.”

Both of them thought that retort immensely funny, far funnier than me. Not to be put off, I flashed a smile intended to win them over. “As I said, I have a need to learn a few words of your language. Will you help?”

The humor faded as her eyes flashed from the girls to me and back again. “Don’t they speak Common?”

“No.”

The one from Kondor screwed up her face in puzzlement and said, “How odd. My name is Ella. Normally, I’d refuse your request, but you have a story to tell, I think. Something interesting to trade for language lessons. Care to walk me around the deck? I hear they’ve opened the port side for passengers.”

That meant little to me, except that instead of the tiny area at the stern, there might be additional places to walk with a pretty girl. How could I refuse? “At your convenience. My name is Damon, my sister Kendra. And these two are Anna and Emma.”

Ella nodded to her friend as she stood and extended her elbow for me to escort her outside. “Emerald.”

As we walked to the door, I heard Kendra invite Ella to join her and the girls. I concentrated on getting to know Ella. Once out the door, the breeze struck us, a stiff, damp wind that came off the morning water like a slap in the face with a wet cloth. The ship was coated with dew, mist, or water. Every surface beaded as if sweating on a hot day. The deck was slippery and while supposedly supporting Ella by giving her my arm, more than once she rescued me from falling.

My first task was to attempt a small bit of magic and succeeded in whisking away the accumulated water from a railing I wanted to lean on. My second was to search for the dragon. How far and how long a dragon could fly were unknowns to me, but all day yesterday and all night seemed unlikely. It was a question that needed investigating because it said when my magic was available, and when it was not.

Ella and I made small talk, as she steered me down a small flight of stairs and onto the left side of the deck, nearly to the bow. The other side was still roped off, open only to working seamen. We huddled together for lack of proper outerwear, but I was willing to sacrifice myself if she held me close.

She finally asked the question that was on her mind, “What is your relation to the little girls?”

“We don’t know,” I answered honestly, then relayed a short version of rescuing them in the storm, without mention of dragons, mages, or enemies.

“So, without a mother or father for them, you decided to travel to Kondor where you do not speak the language, know no one, and hope to perhaps locate their family?”

“When put that way, it does sound strange.”

“Indeed?”

“There is more to our story.”

She smiled. “I would hope so.”

“My sister and I were orphaned in Dire when younger than them. We have often talked of returning to Kondor to search for our roots.” The story was mostly true and sounded good to me.

She said, “One would have thought you’d prepare by learning the language.”

“It all happened so fast,” I explained lamely.

“I see,” she said in a cold manner that said she didn’t. However, she said a word I didn’t know and waited for my response.

I repeated it, and she corrected me, then explained I’d said “hello” in a friendly manner, to an equal. She leaned over the side and watched the water race along the hull in a curl of white. To her, it was probably beautiful. To me, it said more water seeping between the planks and running down the wall of our small cabin, through the weep holes in the floor until it reached the bilge and hopefully a pump sent it back into the ocean. She stood and said a phrase, then told me it asked for a person’s name. I repeated it. She went back to “hello” and returned to ask for a name.

The morning sun burned away the dampness, and the ship sailed in front of a brisk breeze. The wake behind was flat and straight. Before I knew it, we were joined by other passengers, all leaning on the rails or strolling along slowly, talking and smiling at everyone they passed.

Elizabeth was out there too, ignoring us as usual, and Kendra brought the girls out to enjoy the weather. I felt I needed to share the information about the cabin with my sister but refused to cut short my language lesson. Besides, Ella seemed to like me, and I hated to deprive her of my company on a lonely sea voyage.

After we shared a meal of stringy meat and cold vegetable stew at midday, she said she had to return to her friend. Kendra and the girls were sitting on a hatch cover, and they were teaching each other words, but my mind was a tangled mess. I did remember the greeting and used it as I approached. Both of the girls were impressed, and Anna tried to correct my accent.

“Say, where is the dragon right now?” I asked softly.

She pointed. “Way off in that direction.”

I moved a few strands of her hair to tickle her nose. When she wiped them away, I did it again. Her eyes came alive.

“Really?” she asked.

“I don’t understand two things. First is the distance, and the other is how is a dragon staying in the air for so long?”

“We need a map,” she said. “Or, you do. Go find an officer and ask to be shown one.”

“Just like that?” I asked.

“Want me to do it for you?”

I heard a snicker of laughter and glanced behind. Princess Elizabeth was within hearing range. Her sense of humor was often at my expense. The next time we practiced our combat skills, I wanted her as my opponent, and then we’d see who did the laughing. I turned back to Kendra and said in a slightly elevated voice, “I’ll go, but only if you stop acting like spoiled royalty.”

The snicker behind me changed to a choked-off burst of laughter as Elizabeth tried to smother it by pretending to cough. She always could take a joke.