The Last Dragon: Book Two

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

K endra gripped the railing hard enough to turn her fingers white. Learning that a dragon was sharing its eating habits with her was enough to put a scare into her. Finding out she also knew where it dined, was enough to create panic. My suggestion that she might also be sharing information with it took her totally by surprise. Worse, the idea that she might somehow give commands to the dragon increased the panic. She didn’t seem to care that while it ate in the mountains, no matter how far away it was, I still had my magic—and that magic seemed stronger than ever.

“I don’t know what’s happening.” Her voice was weak and soft. He eyes were glazed as she considered the importance of all we’d discussed. “I don’t know what I can do.”

“Tell the dragon to fly. Not that there is danger, but just suggest to her to fly and return to her goat in a few moments.”

Kendra remained calm. After a short while, she said, “It flew. Now it is eating again.”

That was the answer, but not the end of the subject. Well, it was for me. It was time to back out of the conversation and allow my sister to think over the implications and advantages. It also didn’t answer the basic question that had started the conversation. Where did the power come from for the mages to create intense storms that lasted for days if it didn’t come from Kendra’s dragon?

In the last ten days, we’d learned magic draws on power created by dragons. That power was called essence. Essence is created by the same dragon that is now eating a goat and is nowhere near the ships behind the storm. The story fit the circumstances of the mages chaining the dragon in a cave for years and years—a story we’d thought almost beyond belief.

Perhaps it was beyond belief. While we knew a little about essence and had not even known of its existence ten days ago, we didn’t know the entire story. I leaned on the railing with Kendra and said, “Essence is the key. Where are the mages getting the power for the storm?”

“Waystones are involved, too. And Wyverns.”

“It seems we don’t know any more than ten days ago,” I muttered more to myself than to her.

“Not true,” she said in the same soft tone. “Perhaps it is not what we know, but that now we are figuring out what we do not know. So, we are learning where to look for more information.”

“All very confusing.”

She turned to me. “Think of it this way, we are eliminating possibilities, so what is left over is more likely. Essence is involved. That is a fact. Dragons and Wyverns, too. Mages harness that power in ways we do not understand and use it to create or magnify their magic. Sorceresses, too. Mages communicate over long distances, and we think they travel over them in an instant, but that is not a fact, only speculation. We do know the egg in the cave where we released the dragon disappeared after we discovered it. It went away in an instant.”

“We also know from your sensing powers that a mage returned to the cave, then disappeared just a quickly. It is a Waystone, and he may have gone anywhere, like a transfer point. Or nowhere.”

“I don’t think so. Waystones also use essence for their power, and if that dragon is creating the power, it is reasonable to think the longer the distance of the transfer, the more essence is used.”

I snapped my fingers. She was right. “Otherwise there would only be a few Waystones, none close to another.”

She grinned. “We also know Waystones are old because of the weathering of the icons. Very old. If they are powered by essence from dragons, whatever we’re getting into has been around hundreds and hundreds of years. Maybe longer.”

I have always liked her grin, but not now. While her words rang true, they also hinted that our opponents had hundreds and hundreds of years to prepare for the likes of us. “The gambler at the table said I’d never see Dagger. Then he realized he’d spoken out of turn and fled. I think he knows something.”

Kendra said, “See? Now you’re starting to put things together. We’re on a ship with him. He can either sail with us or swim. Here come Flier and the girls. You stay here with them, while I go talk to Will, who is hiding behind those barrels on deck.”

“What are you going to tell Will? I’m not comfortable sharing anything about us. Not yet. Only with Elizabeth.”

“I will simply mention that statement, that others heard it too, and that what he knows may endanger everyone on the ship if we are not going to reach Dagger,” she smiled sweetly, like a cat ready to snatch a butterfly from the air.

“In that case, he will have to find out what the gambler knows.” Before the words were fully out of my mouth, she had spun and walked confidently away as Flier caught my attention. I nodded that it was okay for them to approach, and the three of them rushed ahead.

He said, “They laugh a lot. At me. The ship. Sailors. Anything.”

“You’re not limping.”

His smile grew wider. “Now and then a touch of pain, but that’s from the incision and stitches. From what it feels like, my knee is going to be like when I ran messages. Hell, I might run again.”

Imagining what life for him as a cripple must have been like, the pain, the use of the crutch, the pity and scorn from others, all combined to allow me to forgive his foul language in front of the girls. He must be tougher than I believed. He hadn’t said how many years he’d survived with no money, little food, and the abuse others sent his way, but it had to have been six or seven.

I said, “Run?”

He chuckled. “Not yet. The knee is still sore. The muscles are weak from lack of use. But it bends without pain. Give me ten days, and we’ll see if I can beat you in a foot race.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t know that arrowhead was in there.”

“I assumed it was just a wound that wouldn’t heal, or the knee was broken or shattered by the arrow. There was no reason to think otherwise.”

Anna pointed to the mainsail and said, “Sail.”

Emma pointed to her foot. “Shoe.”

Did she mean the shoe or the foot inside? Our game of point and name had flaws. However, as time went on mistakes would be corrected. That tickled the back of my mind with what we were going to do with them if we didn’t find relatives or a home for them.

Flier said, “I saw the sword in our cabin.” He opened his shirt enough for me to see the handle of a sturdy knife inside, the blade in a scabbard tucked inside his waistband. “You should wear one.”

“Where did that one come from?”

“Will,” he said shortly. “He told me you have enemies on this ship and to protect you.”

He was right. On my next trip to my cabin, I’d conceal a knife and maybe wear my sword in plain sight. It might delay or prevent an attack. Anna reached out and touched my nose with her forefinger. She named it.

A nasty idea sprang to mind, the kind brothers have towards sisters. I could teach the girls false words for common things and watch Kendra try to correct my wrongs. I could point to a beautiful woman and say in a kind voice that carried approval, “Ugly.” They would certainly end up calling Kendra ugly, and I could pretend innocence. She would do no less for me.

We spent the rest of the afternoon in similar acts of discovery and identification. We ate, watched the crew and passengers carefully, and ate again, the evening meal together. Afterward, my knife was hidden near the small of my back, but my sword swung at my hip in full view, I went to the lounge alone.

When I started to sit, one of the regulars, a tall, thin man who had always acted friendly to me, pointed at my blade and said, “I’d rather you remove that if you’re going to sit and play. No offense.”

“None taken,” I said quickly, but strode to a chair near the door and sat there instead of at the table. He had every right to make the request, and it didn’t offend me in the least. I watched the play, listened to conversations around me, and when Hannah and Damme entered, they sat with me. Damme nodded at the sword.

“Protection,” I told him in my normal voice in the small room. “I’ve been warned I have enemies on board.”

A dozen ears pricked at my words. Hannah said, “A man must protect himself.”

Damme said, “Do you mind if I examine your sword? I own a few and can perhaps offer a few suggestions, should you ever require another. I might also put an edge on it for you.”

My old scabbard with the new arrow sheath attached must have looked to him like something discarded by another, so why would he believe the sword any better? The handle and hilt were functional instead of pretty. It was a reasonable request, and as custom dictated, I stood and faced him. The sword slipped out of the sheath noiselessly, and while I held the pommel in my right hand, my left palm supported the flat of the blade as I extended it to him for inspection.

“Gods above,” he whispered, but all heard the shock and awe in his voice as he backed away from the weapon.

Hannah said, “That is beautiful.”

Damme’s hands reached for it but came to a standstill before touching. His eyes went from the sword to mine. “How did you acquire this?”

“The King of Dire presented it to me for services provided.” My voice was calm and clear for all to hear and spread the tale. I heard none of the usual jingle of coins or tab of blocks at the table, as I imagined all eyes were on us.

“Those must have been some services,” Hannah said.

“I protect his daughter with this blade.”

Damme touched the blade with his finger where the damage had occurred and said in a disapproving tone, “You did this?”

“Unfortunately. A good bladesmith I trust suggested nobody try to correct it until it can be sent to the maker.”

“Excellent advice,” he said and lifted the blade as carefully as if it was made of glass. “You do realize this is probably the most magnificent sword in your kingdom? Of course, you do.”

There were no other sounds in the salon. No talking, no chink of tiles, no chairs scraping the floor. I turned to find every head in the room looking at the sword, certain most of them had no idea of the value or rarity, but they keyed on Damme’s respect.

Damme said, “I feel a fool, offering you advice on blades. This is the best sword I’ve ever held, touched, or seen. It is an honor to do so.”

Hannah said, “Can you use it? I mean, dare you use such a fine weapon for fear of harming it?”

My king ordered me to use it to protect him, myself, my sister, and my mistress who is his daughter, but he was also wise enough to have his Royal Weapons-Master spend a full year un-teaching my bad habits with an oak practice sword before he spent another year as he trained me to use it. I had to defeat nearly every palace guard in practice, first.”

Damme said to Hannah, “Malawian steel of the highest order. The first I’ve encountered. Perhaps you will examine my collection when we reach Dagger and make recommendations to me? And if you need to practice, I have a pair of swords from Dire you might feel comfortable wielding.”

The salon was as quiet as a locked bakery in a boy’s school used to pilfering. Damme was doing me a great favor in speaking of my sword as he had. If I’d have wanted to keep it, and my training a secret, I would have refused to display it in public. I had every suspicion he knew exactly what he was doing—and why. Only a fool would attack me, now.

It was a thinly veiled warning to every person on the ship. Don’t mess with Damon. He is a master swordsman with a blade worthy of one in ten thousand.

He handed it back, showing the respect the blade deserved. Hannah mentioned they needed to sleep and bid me a good night. I sat and watched out the windows at the storm still raging, noticing the conversation was unusually subdued at the table. As I was about to take my leave, a face appeared in the window inset in the door, off to one side, so only I would see it. Will. He wanted to talk again. In private.

Standing, I yawned and made my way outside, expecting to find Will waiting. He was not. Instead of going to my cabin, I strolled the deck. Near the stern, in the deepest shadows on the ship where there were the least lanterns, Will emerged.

Without preamble, he said, “I’ve spoken with your friend.”

“The gambler-bully?”

“Yes. It seems he knew about the storm before we sailed from Trager. He learned that information ashore, and also that the storm was intended to keep this ship from ever reaching Dagger. No ships sailing from Trager will reach Dagger, for an unspecified time. The south sea will be closed from now on.”

“So, it’s not all about me?”

Will turned his head away as another passenger walked the decks and came too close. After he was a good distance away, Will said, “He didn’t know. He rambled as we talked. There was a mention of a Dragon Tamer, the secret mission of Princess Elizabeth, and the deaths of several mages. Nothing was said directly of you, but he obviously does not like you and won’t forgive you for embarrassing him.”

On a personal note, that was good news of a sort. The cause of the storm and ship delay was not because of me. It could be Kendra, the unknown Dragon Tamer, or Elizabeth, or the deaths of the mages—however, I was only a part of those, so of no direct consequence.

On a broader note, Dagger had blocked all ships in the sea from sailing south. We couldn’t guess for how long, but it delayed our trip at least, and perhaps prevented the king’s mission from ever reaching Dagger. That meant Elizabeth and her entourage may as well return to Dire. We might as well go with them.

“The gambler, is he all right?”

“He will live, although it was dicey for a while.” Will slipped around a corner and disappeared as a pretty young woman made her way near me. I’d noticed her a time or two, which was each time she’d shown herself on the voyage.

She was alone, studiously ignoring me. That meant she was interested. I said, “Good evening. My name is Damon.”

She glanced my way, then turned her back to me. Interested? She was in love with me!

I moved closer. “Nice evening, isn’t it?”

With a tiny shake of her head, she strode away as if she didn’t hear me. Playing hard to get, I figured. While waiting for her to slink her way back to me, another woman approached, a little older and more sure of herself.

She said, “You are Damon, the sword fighter.”

“Yes. And you are?”

She was not from Kondor. Her features were more northern, Dire maybe, but if so, I should have seen her there and remembered. Her clothing was made of fine material, the stitches so small and even they were almost unseen. Her manners were royal. Not the royal manners of a servant such as me, but the effortless manners of good breeding.

With that established, the question became, why was she seeking me out? The coincidence of two beautiful women accidentally meeting me at the rail, one after the other, when there were only a few on board, two being Kendra and Elizabeth, was remote. If they were not working together, they were after the same objective, leaving me to figure out what that might be.

However, as slow-witted as I could be, one thing I did know was that clandestine meetings in the middle of the night bring no good things. Before she could object, I bid her good-night and left to claim my bed. Alone.

The night was warm, the air calm, and the ship moved steadily towards land. Just as I opened the door to the passageway, a wet slap of sound and a muted grunt drew my attention. It came from my left. Two steps took me to the corner of the deck below the captain’s bridge.

A quick glance found Will there. He held up his thumb and motioned for me to continue on my way. As I turned, the light shifted, and an inert body lay on the deck at his feet. I entered the passageway and went directly to my cabin.