by LeRoy Clary
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.
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 seeme
d 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.”