“Impossible?” The dragon was surprised. “Dax can do anything.”
Dax sighed. “That’s not the case. I’m young, like you, and I don’t have wings or claws. Or fire for that matter.”
“Then we will learn to work together.”
Together. The thought brought a lump to Dax’s throat. Finally he thought, “Right. In the meantime, how do we get you down? Can you use your claws to back down the mast?”
The dragon was uncertain. Dax stationed himself at the bottom of the mast and watched closely as Kahshect loosened a claw and reached down to get another grip on the wooden mast. Once he had taken the first downward step, the dragon’s doubt vanished. He loosened another claw and easily found a new grip.
“Easy!”
“Well, that’s good,” Dax thought. “Please remember to think next time before you do something like that.”
“What fun would that be?” Kahshect thought back, resignedly.
With each step down, the dragon’s confidence built. About halfway down, Kahshect reached below himself, and Dax’s stomach gave a little flop as the dragon turned himself upside down and casually walked down the mast to the bottom.
“I didn’t know you could do that.”
“Neither did I,” Kahshect answered proudly, “but I figured it out. Easy.”
Sitting off to one side, Treyhorn had watched the whole thing. When she saw Dax looking at her, she smiled. “I’ll bet he wanted you to help him up there, didn’t he?”
Dax nodded. “He said we both need to learn to work together.”
“True words.”
When Dax sat down, Kahshect bounded back into his lap with one clear thought. “Food?”
“Yeah, I guess it’s time for your third afternoon snack.” He rolled his eyes at Treyhorn and reached into his pack for another packet of meat. He unwrapped it and gave it to the dragon. The food disappeared in a blink. “You know, I think you are getting bigger.”
The young dragon turned around in an attempt to get more comfortable. He curled his head around and tucked it under Dax’s arms, but his tail hung out over the other side. “Of course I’m getting big. Soon I’ll be as big as Namkafnir.”
#
The afternoon was old when Styr found the mouth of another river. The river was large, and they sailed a little distance up between wooded riverbanks against the current until they found a sheltered anchorage around a shallow bend. Was it luck, or was Styr able to read the weather? The sun, which had shown brightly all day, disappeared early in the evening behind gray clouds. Late in the night Dax woke to a roar of thunder, a burst of lightning, and a rush of wind. Rain pounded down for a short time, but soon slackened. The Kotkel had erected a small sleeping shelter of light wooden planks, which kept off most of the water.
The next morning, they fixed breakfast around a fire ashore. Treyhorn had rousted Dax out early to go looking for food, and they had caught a rabbit and found some spice tubers. Once they had cooked their breakfast over the fire, Kahshect bounded up, eager for a share. Dax gave him a few bites.
Treyhorn watched the dragon beg for more. “Kahshect.” She waited until the dragon looked at her. “Why don’t you see if you can catch some fish in the river?”
“Catch fish? How?” the little dragon replied eagerly.
Puzzled, Dax asked him, “Can you hear Treyhorn’s thoughts?”
“No, but I can hear her words.”
“So you understand Common?” Dax said aloud.
“I hear your thoughts and your sounds. Your sounds, her sounds—same thing.”
Treyhorn smiled when Dax related the conversation. “I told you they were smart. Nonbound people look at our dragons as dumb beasts. That means if Kahshect is around when you are with other people, he can hear interesting tidbits of talk that those people don’t want you to hear.”
That triggered a thought that Dax wanted to ask Treyhorn, but Kahshect had other priorities.
“How do I catch fish?” he demanded.
“There’s something I’d like to talk about,” Dax said to Treyhorn, “but right now Kahshect wants to know how to go fishing.”
“Ah. Now fishing is not something you have to teach him. All he has to do is dive in the river and swim.” As she spoke the words, the dragon turned toward the water. “But wait!” she said sternly.
Kahshect looked back expectantly.
“You can swim,” she said, “and you’ll see fish that you can catch. But be careful in the water until you grow. There are creatures in the ocean that are bigger and hungrier than you. They probably aren’t up in the river, but be wary.”
The dragon looked back at the water. Dax could tell he was uncertain. Kahshect trotted to the water and stuck his head in. Cautiously he took a step forward. Then another. He pulled his head up and looked at Dax. Dax made a little shooing motion with his hand. “Try it.”
There was no splash, only a ripple, as the dragon slipped under the water. Kahshect’s tentativeness changed to confidence. Dax saw a small shadow moving through the water, and it erupted with a splash as the dragon propelled himself into the air and fell back again. The ripples were just disappearing when the dragon appeared at the shore. He had the tail of a large fish in his mouth, and he dragged it back out of the water.
“Fish!” he announced excitedly.
“It most certainly is,” replied Dax.
Treyhorn stood up and took a step forward. “Would you like me to cook it for breakfast?”
“Mine!” was the dragon’s instant reply.
Dax said, “He says the fish is his.”
“Of course, but do you really want to eat it raw?” she asked the little dragon.
Kahshect dropped the flopping fish at the shore and tasted the flavor in his mouth. “Cook it for me?”
Dax relayed the thought to Treyhorn, and she said, “Of course. You caught it, but if we cook it for you, would you like to share?” She gestured with her hand at the fish that had worked its way dangerously close to the edge of the river. “But you’d better pay attention, or you’ll have to catch it all over again.” The dragon snatched up the fish and dropped it at Treyhorn’ feet. She looked at Dax. “It takes a while, but they learn to do a pretty good job with their own fire. Namkafnir likes fish, but he likes them cooked.”
“Now?” Although Treyhorn could not hear Kahshect’s thought, it was loud inside Dax’s head.
Dax looked at Treyhorn and smiled. “He’s impatient.”
“Dragons have just as much patience as human children—none.” Treyhorn laughed and scooped up the fish. She gutted and scaled it efficiently with the knife she wore on her belt, then impaled it on a long stick and began to cook it over a fire.
“Could you teach me to do that?” Dax asked.
“Do what? Cook a fish?”
“No, that looks just like cooking a rabbit.”
“Mostly, but you want to be a little more careful not to get the meat too hot. Fish is more delicate than rabbit. Keep it a little farther back, and cook it slow.”
“Thank you, but no. I want to learn how to clean a fish. I used to hunt with my father and a friend, but when we fished, we just . . .” Dax stopped as he realized he was about to say that they let others clean the fish or just took them back to the castle’s kitchen, but he thought better of it. “I just never got to do that,” he finished lamely.
Treyhorn looked at him a bit oddly. “Sure. The next time your little water sprite catches a fish, I’ll let you do it.”
#
The sea was easy and the wind steady as they sailed north. The Kotkel kept to themselves in the stern by the tiller, and at first Dax thought they were talking. However, he caught snatches of a quiet euphonious tune. They were singing, but about this trip or their past? The Kotkel mainly sang about their history, but Styr was more worldly than most. They sang in their own language, and Dax had no idea about the subject. They were intent on their song, and it seemed impolite to interrupt with a question.
; Dax sat down beside Treyhorn on a bench amidships. He wanted to ask her the question that had occurred to him earlier. “So what do the dragon-bound do in life? I mean, how do you make a living?”
“Well, there is that, isn’t there?” She thought for a moment. “We do pretty much what anyone else would do. Work at whatever we’re good at. I manage the estate for the Monastery of Newham on the Circular Sea.”
Dax knew of the monastery. Straddling the boundary between West and East Landly, its library served as a center of learning for both countries. “What does Namkafnir do? I mean, he doesn’t stay in the monastery, does he?”
She gave a snort of laughter. “Now that would be a sight to see!” She gave another quiet snicker. “I can just see his reaction to being pestered to death by all the curious academics.”
At that moment, Kahshect tore across the deck and climbed halfway up the mast after a gull. He hissed loudly as the bird flew away. Dax watched the display. “I can see another reason why having a dragon in residence might not work.”
Treyhorn nodded. “They are not as active when they get older, but they still create a disruption whenever they are around. Most animals instinctively see a dragon as dangerous. Probably with good reason.”
“So what does Namkafnir do while you work?”
“He is part of the Dragon Lands Mandate.” When Dax looked blank, she continued. “The draigs who are bound work together to keep the Dragon Lands set apart from human lands.” When Dax was quiet, she looked at him. “Aren’t you curious why?”
“Yes, ma’am, but I’ve been asking a lot of questions. I figure one of the reasons you are escorting me is to make sure I know enough not to do the wrong thing. Maybe if I let you tell it your own way, it will make more sense.”
She shook her head. “You are quite the one. How old did you say you were?”
“Thirteen, ma’am.”
“Please, it’s Bindle.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
With a roll of her eyes, she settled herself against the windward leeboard. “Dragons are not picky about what they eat.” Dax nodded. Kahshect certainly was not picky, but he did like certain things better than others. “However,” Treyhorn continued, “humans are picky about what dragons eat. Very picky. Namely, they don’t want them eating their sheep, cattle, or horses—or other humans for that matter.”
“They do that?”
“That’s why we have the Dragon Lands Mandate. Our draigs keep the wild dragons in the Dragon Lands, and the dragon-bound keep humans on our own lands. Humans are probably the only creatures on this world who would be dumb enough to take on the dragons, and the only ones potent enough to make a horrible mess of things if they ever tried.”
She closed her eyes and shook her head as if to clear that thought from her mind before she went on. “We’re not sure how things came to be as they are, but we think the Kotkel were involved long ago. Some think they may have even bred the draigs so they could bond with humans.”
Dax absorbed the information. “Marny told me the Kotkel had a time of greatness—an empire I guess. He also said something about it being the time before the Circular Sea. That part I didn’t really understand.”
Treyhorn nodded. “We have heard the like before. Dragon-bound are about the only humans who have contact with the Kotkel, so we’ve made it our business to know as much about them as possible. They were a mighty people and shaped our world many ages ago. All the more reason to keep track of them. Every settling seems to be focused on the song they all sing.”
“The harmony,” Dax said.
“Right. It’s sometimes hard to get a word in edgewise when you talk to them.” She smiled ruefully. “They seem totally immersed in it.” Then she looked at him. “Any time one of us has a chance to talk with the Kotkel, we share everything we see and hear.” She looked at him pointedly.
He shrugged. “Marny mostly wanted to know what was going on—in our world, I mean. By the time of the hatch, I think I had told him almost everything I knew about West Landly.” Everything except my secret, he thought. That was something he would not share with anyone. “I did ask him a few things,” Dax continued, “but I didn’t really understand all of his answers.”
He tried to recount to Treyhorn as much as he could remember about what Marny had told him. Treyhorn asked him several times to repeat word for word exactly what Marny had said. Dax did—as best he could remember. He ended up apologizing and said, “I guess we should ask Marny.”
Treyhorn sighed. “A good idea, but the Kotkel can be maddeningly cryptic when you ask them a direct question. You have to wait until they want to tell you something.”
“I wish I would have known that when we were talking.”
“You didn’t know, and if you had known and started to question him, you would have most likely ended up even more confused. Every time we have a conclave, we share any information and discuss what we know. I didn’t hear anything new in what he told you, but Marny did say things a little differently.” She shrugged. “We’re putting together pieces of a puzzle, but we don’t know what it tells us yet.”
“So what happened to the Kotkel?”
“We’re pretty certain it has something to do with the Circular Sea. We’ve heard them talk about the time before the Circular Sea was ‘great’ or ‘special’ in some way for them.”
“Like what Marny said.”
She nodded. “It must have been long, long ago, but as best we understand, there was no Circular Sea during the Kotkels’ time of greatness and accomplishment. Ever since the appearance of the Circular Sea, these lands have been the realm of humans. Evidently the sea was made, but by whom, we don’t know. Did the Kotkel make it? Did someone else? Or was it some sort of natural event?” She mimicked the Kotkel equivalent of a shrug. “We want to understand their history along with our own history, so we can make better sense of the world. The Kotkel appear to be satisfied to celebrate their life in the world without the worry of comprehending it.” This time she made a human shrug. “I don’t think either group really understands the other.”
#
For the next six days, they continued on with much the same routine. They had seen only one other craft, a small fishing boat headed south. It had passed them three days earlier. Late in the afternoon on the sixth day, they approached a hook-shaped bar of land behind which lay a small open bay. In the middle of the bar, there was a large region of blackened sand along with a scattering of charred bones.
Dax pointed out the scar to Kahshect, who had been dozing on the thwart beside him. The dragon raised his head and took in the scene. “Namkafnir,” he replied.
“How do you know that?” Dax thought.
“He told me he ate big this morning. He caught a swimming lion.”
Treyhorn was nearby. Dax called over to her. “Kahshect says Namkafnir is here.”
She nodded. “Yes, he’s been here the last two days, and he’s waiting for us inside the bay. This is where we start overland.”
The Kotkel eased their boat into the bay and made for the mouth of one of the two small streams flowing into it. As they approached shore, one of the large boulders on the shore lifted up its head and stared at them. Dax had not seen a full-grown draig in the light of day, and he was impressed. Namkafnir was grayish in color, darker on top but lighter below, like Kahshect. But where Kahshect’s small scales gave his skin a finely textured sheen, Namkafnir’s scales resembled small wet stones on a cobbled beach. When the dragon stood, his head reached as high as the boat’s short mast. Treyhorn smiled as they neared the shore. All the while the dragon stood there calmly, his large yellow eyes watching them.
Before they had a chance to secure the boat, Kahshect launched himself over the side into the water and charged up the beach where Namkafnir waited. Treyhorn gestured toward the dragons. “They’ve probably been talking for some time now. Don’t worry about Namkafnir. Dragons take to young ones just fine. It’s sort of like they are all parents to them.”
/>
Kahshect scrambled up one of the dragon’s legs onto his back. He stood there looking down into the boat as the Kotkel carefully maneuvered it into shallow water. Cocking back his head, he uttered a wailing screech that cut through the peace of the bay. “Kahshect is big!” The thought rang in Dax’s head.
“Well,” Treyhorn muttered to Dax, “you see how fortunate we were? If Kahshect had learned to make that noise while we were on board the boat, even our quiet friends might have said something.”
“This really is going to be sort of like raising a child, isn’t it?” Dax already knew the answer, but he hoped Treyhorn might reveal a little personal information. So far she had been very tightlipped about most topics relating to her own life.
“Well, in some ways it’s very much like raising a child. A headstrong, impetuous, fire-breathing child.” She smiled. “Don’t worry. Namkafnir will be a big help in keeping him out of too much trouble. Meanwhile, Kahshect will learn a lot from you, and very quickly too.”
As they watched the two dragons, Kahshect planted his feet firmly and stuck his neck straight out while his body contorted with a spasm. Dax was puzzled because he could tell Kahshect was excited and was not feeling any pain. “Oh, joy,” remarked Treyhorn flatly. “It looks as if Namkafnir is trying to teach him how to get his dragon fire. They learn that soon enough even without help, but it means you will have to keep him under control. It’s early in the year and not the dry season yet, but we don’t need him starting any unintentional fires that we will have to deal with.”
Dax took the information seriously. Having his dragon as a constant companion was a wonderful relief from his loneliness. Although he enjoyed having Kahshect with him, Dax knew he had a responsibility to teach the young dragon how to cope with life. Especially the life Dax was destined to lead.
#
They camped for the night as they had in the past, but in the morning the Kotkel pushed off in the boat and left Dax and Treyhorn watching from shore. The boat trip had been pleasant, but the Kotkel had kept to themselves. There was none of the camaraderie Dax had seen among companions when he had taken trips with his father. As the boat sailed out of sight, none of the Kotkel looked back to shore.
King's Exile: Chronicles of the Dragon-Bound: Book 1 Page 29