The Last Dragon: Book Two

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

K endra flashed a weak smile in my direction as if she suddenly understood the magnitude of the oath she’d taken with the cripple. It was something of an apology and a commitment at the same time. It appeared Flier had taken the oath just as seriously. I felt left out in the cold on a dark winter’s night.

Kendra abruptly said, “I should get back to care for the girls.”

“What about the mages blocking the Gallant with their storm?” My question was spontaneous and assumed facts we didn’t know for sure.

She shrugged. “We really don’t know how far they will go to stop us, or if they are trying to only stop you and me, but we also don’t know who else on this ship they might be trying to prevent from reaching Dagger. This may be about stopping Elizabeth and her secret mission. Let’s sleep on it. The captain will let us know our options, tomorrow.”

After she departed, I climbed down and mixed the sleeping powder while avoiding Flier’s eyes. He said, “Forgive me. My knowledge is slight in your travels and objectives, but there is an observation to share. If the rulers of Dagger are so intent on keeping someone on this ship from reaching there, they must consider that person extremely dangerous.”

“No matter who it is.” My flat agreement ended our conversation, for now. His observation made sense. If they were willing to sink our ship, everyone on board would swim. For a while. Then die.

Flier accepted the sleeping powder gratefully. I could see how rigidly he held his face, trying to fight the remaining pain in his knee. My admiration for him grew.

As soon as he slept, I replaced the pitcher in the recess designed to keep it from spilling. The chamber pot went back into its small area, where it was blocked from sliding across the floor in any direction with the ‘normal’ shifting of the ship, in ‘normal’ storms. Then, I left the cabin. The salon was my natural goal. There I would find conversational tongues loosened by wine, passengers with pent-up anxieties and cabin-fever, rumors, lies, and perhaps a small amount of truth if I listened carefully.

“Damon,” a talkative little man who was chubby and whose face tended to get very red when he consumed wine or ale—which he did at every opportunity. He viewed himself as tall, thin, and attractive, in my opinion, a common instance in those men short, heavy, or both.

For all his faults, I liked him, and he talked incessantly about everything with only the slightest provocation. He knew all the dirt on the ship. Leading him into the conversational direction I wished, I asked in a friendly voice, “How are you doing after the storm?”

He leaned closer, but his voice remained too loud. “Be doing better if we were sailing south to Vin and Dagger instead of east, know what I mean?”

“I heard we are sailing east to try and get around that terrible storm.”

“If we’d have pushed ahead instead of turning and running, we’d be through it and heading into the port of Vin by now. I fear our captain is a bit of a coward.”

His attitude offended me on many levels. My impression was the captain realized we were not making headway, to choose a new option, one that considered the welfare of his passengers. My trust was that the Gallant was a well-built ship, but no ship can withstand the pounding of endless storms. It would take a single hull plank with a flaw or insect damage to weaken it, just one, to send the ship to the bottom. In calm waters, it might never rupture, and if it did, the repairs would be easy and swift. In a raging storm, the danger increased by several magnitudes.

I said, “Better to be safe than sink our ship—especially with me aboard.

He laughed and agreed. A seat at the gaming table opened up, and I offered it to my seatmate, but when he refused, I took it. There were five of us, all but one known to me. After a brief introduction, the blocks were sorted, passed to each of us, and serious play began.

The new player, a middle-aged man called Tome, a resident of Kondor, bid high. Higher than any wager I’d seen since sailing. Three of us instantly folded, but one of the regulars matched the bet. The next tile dealt resulted in the same. The eyes of the regular player gave his intentions away. He didn’t wish to meet the bet, it was beyond his means and far beyond the bounds of a friendly game, but he did. He slid the required amount to the center of the table. His eyes narrowed, he nervously bit his lower lip.

The new player, Tome, calmly raised again, a massive wager. While he is free to play as he likes, that sort of play is called bullying, because it is. The bully will bet so much the opponent must fold and give up a good hand or face serious financial risk. The regular player, a man who sat to my right hesitated, believing he held a stronger hand but at what cost if he should lose?

My purse was on my lap hidden to the other players as I counted out my money to place on the table. Without thinking about it, I reached under the table in a way the others wouldn’t see and opened my fist to display a small handful of coins to the regular. “Take them.”

He nodded, and surreptitiously scraped the coins from my palm to his fist and not only met the bet but raised the wager again, a totally unexpected action. The table went silent in shock. In the center of the table sat a small fortune. Nobody had believed he would match the bet on the table, let alone increase it—and two of the coins he bet were gold. I checked my purse, suspecting more might be required for him to remain in the game, but I’d determined not to allow the bully to roll over a fellow player. It was supposed to be a low stakes friendly game.

Tome’s face twisted into a snarl. “You didn’t have that much money. Where did you get it?”

“I have far more than that, my friend, and may have more than one purse. Are you going to match my wager or fold?” The man at my side snarled as if anxious to continue the betting.

“I must go back to my cabin to get more money.” The bully stood and pushed his chair back.

“Hold on,” I heard myself saying without thinking. “This has always been a friendly table-stakes game since I’ve been here. Am I right?” I spread my hands and looked at the other players for support. “Table-stakes?”

They all nodded their agreement to me, but their eyes remained on Tome. His face reddened. “Where’d he get that extra money?”

“Does it matter?” I asked easily. “He has it here at the table, and that is all that counts. His wager is in the pot.”

The man on the other side of me, one who had been quiet until now, said, “Match the bet or the winnings are his. Table-stakes rules, as always.”

Tome abruptly spun in my direction. “You two are in this together.”

I also stood and kept my voice soft and even. “I am not even in the game, yet. None of the money on the table is mine, so I have no interest except to play a few friendly hands. He matched and raised your bet. Those are the rules of the game. We play with what we bring to the table.”

He gaped. He wanted to leap over the table at me. But with me standing up to confront him on equal terms, the bully in him hesitated. Standing up as I had, dared him to take action. It also said his bluster didn’t scare me.

The player at my side who had confronted the bully with his wager was much smaller than either of us. He also stood. “His problem is with me, Damon.”

I couldn’t allow Tome to attack the smaller man. I said to him in a challenging tone, “You can always take it up with me in Dagger.”

“You’re never going to get to Dagger,” he said, then his face tinged red, and he backed from the table. Obviously, he’d spoken in anger and out of turn. Said something he wasn’t supposed to. Before anyone could react to his statement, he fled the salon.

Those of us remaining at the table exchanged puzzled looks. “What was that all about?” I asked. “What did he mean?”

One of the other regulars asked me, “Have you had problems with him before?”

“Never seen or met him,” I said.

“Well, it sure seems like he has it in for you. As soon as you entered, he was watching every move you made,” the same man continued. “He even scooted his chair closer to you, so he could listen to your conversation before you joined us.”

The one next to me said, as he pulled the pile of coins closer and shoved far more than I’d loaned him my way, “Hey, thanks for helping me out with that hand. He’s been raising everything since he sat down. I was about to quit the game because of it. High betting took all the fun out of the game. But, he was only interested in you.”

We played on, but my heart and mind were not in it. The money I’d loaned was repaid, the play was friendly and passed the time, but I heard nothing of value in the table-talk. The ship still sailed east, away from land and Trager. The storm remained to our right side, off in the distance. Flashes of lightning on the horizon were like fireflies on a dark night. I didn’t have to ask Kendra where the mages were because I knew where they were. They were on the other side of the storm keeping pace with us and creating our problems.

I finally said, “Gentlemen, my travel-partner may need me, so I’ll go check on him. I hate to leave you good men to play by yourselves, but I have to go.”

“Is that the cripple you brought aboard?” the man directly across from me asked, his tone holding no hint of insult or rudeness, just a straightforward question.

“Yes,” I said. “But don’t let that appearance fool you. Flier is a good man and next time you see him, you’ll be pleasantly surprised.” Before leaving the salon, my eyes scanned the area outside, including what was visible outside the door through the small window. Once on the deck, every shadow, hiding place, above and below, was checked before proceeding. When I moved, it was sudden and quick. My ears listened. I sniffed the salt air searching for the scent of an attacker.

Reaching the door to our cabin seemed a major accomplishment. Inside, Flier slept on. Half his sleeping powder was there beside the water pitcher. After missing so much sleep last night, I didn’t need it. I climbed into my bed and fell under the spell of sleep so deep I might never wake.

Kendra looked in on us a couple of times. My knife was in my hand each time, but she spoke softly as if sensing my unease and assured me it was her. I woke again when the ship turned in the middle of the night. The motion of the ship had again changed. I lay awake waiting for the crashing of the storm to begin, the rolling and pitching of the ship as it entered the wall of rain, but it didn’t happen. What wind and waves there were, now struck the port side of the ship instead of the starboard. We’d turned completely around and were sailing back towards Trager and not into the storm.

That was fine with me. I went back to sleep and stayed that way until morning when I heard Flier trying to be quiet as he moved in the cabin. I opened one eye, then the other, as I watched him test his knee. He started out easy and increased the weight on it, only wincing occasionally. However, to offset that, he smiled to himself. Even when thinking he was alone, he smiled, and that told me more than any inquiry.

That told me all I needed. “Hungry?”

“Starving.”

I swung my legs over the side and waited. Since the course change, the ship tilted to the opposite way it had, and it took some getting used to when walking. We stopped at Kendra’s cabin, and they joined us. In the small dining room, all five of us crowded around a single table only large enough to hold our five mugs. We balanced bowls of gruel sweetened with peach slices in our laps and made jokes about it while devouring the blandness with unconcealed eagerness.

The girls were learning more Common words and used them to spice up the conversation. It amazed me how few were required for communication. Sure, there were times when we didn’t understand, but the girls were old enough to act out those comments as if we played a game. For instance, mimicking sleeping, or using a hammer. Once we identified the correct word for them, they seemed to absorb it as part of their language.

At a guess, they now understood several hundred words. They might not recall them at first, but if we said the right word they instantly recognized it. They knew the names for all five of us, and the basics required for life, being food, water, sleep, chamber pot, ship, and others.

Emma said softly, almost a growl, spoiling the mood at the table, “Bad.”

I looked where her eyes focused and found the man from the gaming table who bet too heavily. He glared my way but said nothing. When Kendra and Flier turned to look, I said, “We had an altercation last night. He got angry and said, ‘I was not getting to Dagger’ but didn’t explain. Someone else said he has been watching me the whole trip.”

Kendra stood.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

She smiled sweetly, with the smile that chilled me. “For a walk. Maybe I’ll run into Will.” She pulled a blue scarf similar to the one Will had given to me to display with I wanted to talk. She slipped it around her neck.

Good idea. While the stranger watched me, Will could watch him. Those who are doing the watching never look over their own shoulders to see if they are also watched. They are too intent on their own actions. She swept from the room, drawing the eyes of every man in it, but two. Mine and the strangers.

“Never seen him before,” Flier said before I could ask.

Anna snuck a spoonful of Emma’s gruel when she wasn’t looking and slurped it loudly, to the amusement of us. That didn’t need interpretation. I’d often done the same to Kendra when we were that age—and still did now and then.

Elizabeth entered, approached a table where a couple sat that I didn’t know, and exchanged a few words with them as they ate. She completely ignored me. However, she circled the table where I could see her unobstructed, and she lifted her chin as if agreeing, but her eyes never touched mine. A single finger pointed to her toes as she moved. It was a signal as blatant as if as if her chin had pointed to them. The pair needed watching. They presented a danger of some sort. Elizabeth turned and left the dining room before I could give her the same signal about the man at the other table.

Thinking back, the pair had been in the salon almost every evening while I played, never talking to anyone else, always sitting alone. They seldom even spoke to each other. Neither joined the games, or conversations and shunned any friendly advancements. They usually looked out the windows at the ever-changing sea. If their appearances meant anything, both were from Kondor.

That is why I’d taken particular notice of them. The other couple from Kondor, Hannah, and Damme, never engaged them either, which seemed odd, now that I thought about it. Usually, people from the same area tend to gather together and play the “do you know” game. Speaking the same language seemed like a natural link. Once, I’d stood and started their way, but Hannah had given me a slight warning shake of her head, just the barest of movements.

That had been enough for me. Damme and Hannah were genuine, and I’d consider them friends, even though we’d just met. They had spent an evening teaching our girls Common and offered to do it again. A warning from a friend, for whatever reason, is to be followed.

We were finished with our meal and others were waiting for a table. We stood and walked out onto the late afternoon deck. The sun reflected gold on the calm water, a streak leading directly from the sun to us. Off to our left, a bank of low dark clouds hung. Lightning flashed, but we were too far away to hear the thunder.

The purser paused as I watched the clouds. His eyes followed mine. “Strangest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“How so?”

“It’s like a wall. A solid, unmoving wall. Storms usually move fairly quickly across the water, not remain in the same place for days.”

“You’ve never seen anything like this?” I asked.

“Not even heard of it. This will be the first time we’ve ever returned to port because we couldn’t sail past a storm.”

That was the first I’d heard of returning to Trager. It made sense. The ship provisioned for a sail of a few days to Vin, and we’d already used that time. The purser moved on. From the corner of my eye, Will moved from a doorway to the corner of a stout support for the upper decks. He also looked out to sea and the storm . . . or seemed to—for anyone watching him. It was part of his act of innocence. I had no doubt he saw and heard everything about me.

My glance at him also found the gambler with the poor attitude nearby. He stood near the mast for the mainsail, most of his body hidden from my casual glance at it—which I’m certain was purely accidental. He also appeared to be watching the dark clouds and lightning, but I may have been in his line of sight. He was watching me.

Kendra returned. She stepped between Flier and the girls, while she whispered, “Where are they getting all of the dragon essence required to maintain a storm like that?”

She meant the mages, of course. The power drain must be tremendous for continuous storms to last for days on end. I asked, “Where is your dragon?”

“It is not mine. But, it is in the mountains south of Trager in the high mountains, eating a goat.”

I half-turned. “Flier can you take the girls for a little walk?” He understood my intention to speak privately and escorted them away without question.

Kendra was puzzled.

I said, “My magic works. It is stronger than ever.”

“That’s odd because the dragon is so far away. Earlier, it had to be within sight of you. Right?”

Waving that aside, I continued with what I wished to say, “How do you know the dragon is eating a goat?”

Her puzzlement increased. “I don’t know. It just is.”

“You have already said you always know where it is, but never added to that knowledge. Is this something new?”

She bit her lower lip as she thought. “Yesterday, I knew it had flown across the mountains and back again, as it waited for me. Us. It felt weaker when south of the mountains. The connection, I mean. Then stronger again when it flew closer, although all the way across the sea to the mountains is not close.”

“And?”

Her voice grew strident. “It grew tired from flying so much and found a deer in a meadow. It ate it last night just before dark. That’s the first time I knew something more than simply its location, but it seemed so natural to know it, to think about it. It just was. As if it had always been like that and I should have known how to tell what it was doing.”

“I’m not accusing you of anything, so don’t get angry. We’re just establishing the idea that the dragon is now communicating with you. Sharing information. Does that sound right?”

She scowled. “Does it sound right that a creature as large as a barn is now providing mental tips on its dining habits? And that I shouldn’t be concerned? Is that what you’re asking? If so, yes, it does bother me.”

“That wasn’t what I was asking.”

Her anger was showing. I tried to explain. “The dragon is ‘talking’ to you in a way you didn’t understand until now. Is it saying anything else? Because you also know it is in the mountains, it was over the desert, and the deer was in a meadow. That’s more than just sharing dining habits.”

She paled.

I continued, “So it’s established that the dragon is sharing more than just what it eats with you. My next question is to ask what are you sharing with it? And can you force or request it to obey you?”

Kendra reached for the handrail to steady herself.