King's Exile: Chronicles of the Dragon-Bound: Book 1

by William Culbertson

  Dax nodded. “She tried to kill me.” The memory brought a stir of dragon anger. “She killed my father too.” He saw she was looking at him questioningly. “Poison,” he answered.

  Treyhorn blinked. For a time she said nothing. Kahshect shifted around, and the motion interrupted the moment. “Well,” she finally said, “I think that is news I should share with the rest of the dragon-bound.” After a moment, she added, “And keep your name out of it.” She smiled. “You are one of us now, and we protect our own. However, if no one else knows but us, you won’t have to worry, will you?” She patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll admit, I don’t know much about the ins and outs of power in the castle, but I think your plan to go to Iron Moor Academy is the best thing for you. Still, it’s your life.”

  Dax stared into the fire, remembering. “General Herne said he would never let Keir take the throne. I should have realized he might do something like that.” He looked at Treyhorn.

  Sighing, Treyhorn nodded. “He had the reputation of a man who always did what had to be done. Like it or not—and I know for a fact he didn’t always like it. I’d met him any number of times. Every time he saw me, he’d lose no time in finding out everything I knew about what was going on in the North.”

  Kahshect shifted around again, and Dax suddenly realized the young dragon had eaten his portion of the soup. “Hey, you little pig! That was mine.”

  “You were ignoring it,” the dragon replied primly. “And I was still hungry.”

  Dax sighed and looked at Treyhorn. He held up the empty cup. “Would there be anything else to eat?”

  She smiled at him. “What good is a great-aunt if she can’t find a little something to eat for her nephew?”

  As she put what was left of the soup back on the fire, Dax remarked, “I can’t get over the incredible coincidence of meeting you, a family member, on this journey.”

  “Meeting me? That’s not surprising. I’m back and forth all over the north lands on one errand or another for the monastery, and I meet a lot of people. I get up to Iron Moor to see Renshau now and again. Since Renshau is dragon-bound.” She looked at Dax questioningly until he nodded to indicate that he knew about Renshau. “Anyway,” she went on, “we also keep track of what’s in the air with the dragon-bound.” She paused for a moment and smiled. “Besides, I like the old boy. He always introduces me to his new cadets, so I almost certainly would have met you. Being dragon-bound, I absolutely would have met you.”

  The soup was warm again, and she handed him a new cup. Kahshect followed it with his nose, but this time Dax kept it well out of his reach. Treyhorn glanced back over her shoulder to where Namkafnir lay. “Now recognizing you was another matter entirely. That was his doing. You are obviously noble born—manners like yours are learned at court, not on the streets. You know a lot about the North even though you’re from the South, and you’ve had a private tutor.”

  Nodding to herself, she continued. “Still, I figured you for the youngest son of a duke or something like that who had been sent out for a life of soldiering without anyone realizing you were dragon-bound. Or maybe a runaway from trouble at court because you couldn’t tell a lie.” She shrugged. “Could have been any number of things, and I expected to pretty much have your whole story by the time we got to the academy. When Namkafnir said you smelled like family, well, it just all fell into place. Age. Education. Traveling away from the castle. Careful to never give any details about your background, but knowing Orin Herne.”

  Dax finished his stew and handed the cup back. Treyhorn scrubbed it out and put it back in her pack. Turning her attention back to Dax, she said, “One thing the dragon-bound do is recruit new bondmates for draigs. We let people handle eggs and hope for a bonding, the sifting we mentioned at your hatch. There have been bondings in the royal family before, but never the sovereign.”

  “General Herne said Kahshect’s egg came from the Vaughns.”

  Treyhorn smiled tightly. “There are eggs that get lost. That would be the ‘wild egg’ Rudale was complaining about back at the hatch. We dragon-bound are human, and we lose track of things from time to time. Dragon eggs are valuable, and some have been stolen.” She paused and looked more serious. “We also have suspicions there might be a bit of a black market in eggs smuggled in from the Dragon Lands.” She gave a little shiver. “It would take more nerve than I have to try to steal an egg with wild draigs around.”

  They talked on but mainly of small matters until Dax started to nod off. The whipsaw of emotions today had left him exhausted. Treyhorn unrolled her blanket and made herself comfortable for the night, and Dax followed her example. The evening held no threat of rain, so they did not bother with the small tent they used to keep dry. The fire had burned low, and their conversation had slowed when Dax said, “So I guess it’s on to Iron Moor and the life of a soldier for me.” There was a hollow place where his old life had been, but Treyhorn’s words had made him feel better about his future.

  “I don’t know about that,” she said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Get your training at the academy, sure enough. But Renshau doesn’t just train his cadets for the sword. He likes to find out what each of them can do best and make sure they do it. He’s turned more than a few cadets into artists or musicians when he saw they were better suited to those disciplines. Trust me. Renshau will find something interesting for you.” She nodded wisely.

  Treyhorn, his aunt, he reminded himself, was obviously pleased with her advice. Dax still wished there was something he could do for Herne. Although he had been too busy to think much about what had been going on in the castle since he had left, he now was desperate for news—any news.

  The hour was late, but now that he was in bed, Dax could not sleep. One thought chased another through his head. He lay there and talked to Treyhorn in the glow of the banked fire. He asked Treyhorn about her life and family, but she waved the questions away. “Time enough to talk about whose things as we go. I want to hear about you. Yours is a piece of the story none of the other players has. Once I know what you’ve seen and done, I’ll understand what I’ve heard better. The dragon-bound will need this information as well.”

  Dax was reluctant at first. He had been alone, his real identity a threat to his life, and he could not tell anything but the truth. Therefore, he was in the habit of saying nothing. Observing. It had not been easy at first, because in the castle, he had enjoyed talking with everyone, sharing the normal exuberance of youth. Since he had fled, wary caution had become the ingrained structure of his life.

  Treyhorn did not push. She drew him out with questions, delicately phrased, but always trying to get him to tell more of the story. Finally, a little exasperated, she said, “Really, Leith, the dragon-bound are your friends. Think of us as your partners. We have to take care of each other, because other people don’t trust us.”

  Dax frowned, puzzled by her statement. “How can they not trust the dragon-bound? We can only tell the truth.”

  “That’s exactly right.” She sighed. “But how many of them really want to hear the truth? Or worse yet, how many want to have someone around who can tell when they are not telling the truth? Our ability frightens some people, and the more ambitious they are, the more it frightens them. People like Hap Harwood, who are successful in a small way, have little to lose. People who hunger for authority and lust for power see us as a threat. They hate us for our perception and envy us our mighty bondmates.”

  “Wouldn’t the dragon-bound be perfect as judges?” The answer seemed obvious to Dax. “Who could be better than someone who can tell truth from lies?”

  “There are not enough of us, and fewer of us are inclined to make it our life’s work.” She shrugged. “Some of us hold special dragon-bound courts. We take time from our jobs to travel outside our local areas on a circuit of towns where we judge disputes. We do it to make money for our causes.”

  “Causes?”

  “Truth. Justice. Peace.”
She smiled. “The three don’t always come at the same time or in the same way. Seldom do we see all three at once.”

  Dax was quiet for a time, and he felt the tug of sleep. Finally he decided that since he was dragon-bound, he had to truly become one of the dragon-bound. “I like the name Dax better than Leith,” he announced. “My father called me Dax.”

  Treyhorn did not reply right away, and he thought she might have gone to sleep. “Dax it is then.” She sounded satisfied. “Although I think Leith is a safer name until we get you to the academy.” She was silent for a time, and he was drifting off when she added, “Thank you, Dax.”

  #

  They slept until well after sunup and were late getting on the road the next day. Treyhorn seemed more comfortable with him. He could not put his finger on any one thing, but he did not sense that she was as constantly mindful of him. Was it because she now saw him as family, or was she more accepting of him as one of the dragon-bound?

  And where were the dragons? Namkafnir had been gone that morning when he woke up. Kahshect told him Namkafnir was off scouting, but then Kahshect disappeared before they broke camp. “Where are you?” he thought at the dragon once they were underway.

  “Hunting,” came the reply. “In the trees.”

  “But I fed you earlier.”

  “There are rats with big tails.” Dax could feel a quiver excitement in the thought. “They like to run up trees.”

  “Squirrels,” Dax supplied.

  “Good to eat?”

  “Probably. They’re small, though.” Dax felt a sudden burst of excitement through the bond. He turned in the direction from which the emotion seemed to come. Treyhorn noticed he had stopped and looked back at him inquiringly.

  Dax gestured to the tree line. “He’s in there hunting squirrels or something. I can’t believe he’s hungry again.”

  “Maybe not so much food hungry,” she replied, “but hungry for action. It’s good practice for him. Don’t worry. He’ll catch up.”

  Just as they turned to walk on, Dax had a sudden surge of fear. A mix of emotions coursed through his head: Shock! Fright! Excitement!

  The picture was clear in Dax’s mind. “He fell out of a tree!” Dax gasped and turned back toward the wood. Just at that moment, he saw a rustle in the grass at the tree line, and in a minute Kahshect came trotting up with the body of a squirrel in his mouth. Dax, relieved to see the little dragon was okay, was still a bit upset. “So what was going on back there?” He said it out loud for Treyhorn, who watched with a small smile on her face.

  “I caught the squirrel, but I fell out of the tree,” he said proudly.

  “I see you caught the squirrel, but did you hurt yourself when you fell?”

  “No! And that’s the best part. My wings helped me land on my feet!”

  “Your wings?” Dax looked at Treyhorn. “He said he used his wings to help him land on his feet.”

  “They’re not fully developed yet,” Treyhorn said, “but he knows instinctively how to use them. Give him a couple more weeks, and he’ll be flying short hops.” She grimaced. “I imagine that will try our patience some.” She smiled at Dax’s look of worry. “There won’t be anything really bad. It’s just that young dragons have lots of enthusiasm and not much sense.”

  Kahshect wanted to eat the squirrel right away, but Treyhorn was not about to stop so they could cook it. Dax hung it from the back of his pack, and Kahshect trotted along in pursuit. Every now and then, he would dash toward Dax and make a leap for the squirrel, his wings beating along the way. The third time he grabbed at the dead animal, the tug almost pulled Dax off balance.

  Dax whirled around and was about to speak sharply to Kahshect when Treyhorn intervened. “Kahshect, why don’t you scout out ahead of us instead of bothering that squirrel. It’s not going anywhere, and we will fix it for you when we stop.”

  “Yes! I’ll scout like Namkafnir.”

  The grass rustled as the little dragon pushed on ahead. Dax looked at Treyhorn. “Thanks. I can see I’ve got a lot to learn about dealing with dragons.”

  “When they get too annoying, distract them. Just like you would a five-year-old.” She smiled. “He’ll probably flush up a ground squirrel or two, but we’ll deal with that as it comes.”

  #

  By midday, Dax was glad to stop. He set down his pack and heard Kahshect bounding through the brush near the small stand of trees where they had taken shelter from the sun. Dax kept his thoughts focused on the top of the nearest tree and stepped behind a bush near where the dragon would emerge. Kahshect burst into the clearing, and Dax stomped his foot behind him and cried, “Got you!”

  Startled, Kahshect whirled, legs tensed, and a flicker of flame sprouted from his mouth. Dax felt the dragon’s surprise through the bond. “Fire! I have fire!”

  Now Dax was the one who was startled, and he jumped back. Treyhorn looked from one to the other and ended up looking at Dax. “Did I mention that young dragons reflect the personalities of their bondmates?”

  Immediately Dax got her point, and he appreciated the fact that she had delivered a caution as a bald statement of fact rather than a reprimand. He nodded. “That was stupid of me, right?”

  “I wouldn’t say ‘stupid,’ but I would say ill-advised.” She smiled. “But from what you’ve been through, I am glad to see you feeling comfortable enough for a little horseplay.”

  “Kahshect says this is the first time he has had fire.” Dax shared the excitement of his bondmate.

  “Well, good,” Treyhorn observed. “But we had better teach him a little about using it. Why don’t you clean the squirrel for Kahshect’s lunch?”

  Dax turned the squirrel around in his hands. He had seen his father and Herne dress a rabbit and a game cock several times, but the squirrel was smaller. He told Treyhorn he was a little uncertain how to start, so she helped show him the proper way. Once he’d removed the reddish fur and buried the entrails, he impaled the rest of the body on a stick. The squirrel had little meat. Its tail had been big and bushy, but Dax had seen bigger city rats than the carcass he cleaned.

  Treyhorn helped him clear a patch for the fire, and they laid a small stack of fallen limbs in the center. Kahshect watched them carefully until Treyhorn sat back on her haunches and looked at the dragon. “Now, Kahshect, we need a fire to cook your squirrel. We have to be careful about fire, because the grass and trees will burn if we are not careful. That’s very dangerous. We could be badly hurt if your fire gets out of control.” The little dragon had focused on Treyhorn, and Dax felt him listening intently. “You might not have enough fire to cook the whole thing yet, but that will come soon enough. Why don’t you practice making fire at the wood and see if you can get it to burn?” she suggested. “Dax can cook your squirrel on the fire, and you get to practice.”

  Kahshect braced his legs, concentrating hard. After a few snorts, he managed another spurt of flame. One of the twigs caught, and after a little encouragement, the fire was going. The squirrel had little flesh, but Dax cooked it. Highly satisfied with himself, the dragon ate it.

  #

  They hiked for miles each day, and although his muscles complained at first, Dax quickly fell into the rhythm of their journey. As they traveled east, the land grew more rolling and wooded. Sometimes they talked as they hiked, but other times they walked in silence for hours at a stretch. Dax’s thoughts ranged far and wide during those times. He thought about Treyhorn, her life, and what it meant to him to have a great-aunt. He also thought about Orin Herne and what must be happening back in Tazzelton and in the castle, but those thoughts kept running in circles. There were too many unknowns. After thinking the same thoughts and getting the same unanswered questions, he tried to put them out of his mind and think of something else.

  A memory of the bootblack boys came to mind. What would they be doing today? Was Hammer still the head boy, or had he moved up in the organization? He thought about Moryn. Had she been arrested after Herne stabbed Keir, or
was her connection to General Herne enough of a secret that she had avoided Mathilde’s reach?

  He also remembered Anna. He often thought about her now that he was out of immediate danger. How was she doing at Butterock Haven? Was she getting along with her aunt and uncle’s family? Did she ever think about him? Certainly, with matters still in turmoil in the castle, she must have stayed on the island. One day he caught himself thinking about trying to find her, but he stopped himself. He hitched his pack higher and walked on. Some daydreams he could not allow himself.

  Dax spent a lot of time talking to Kahshect, but their conversations were usually one-sided. He answered question after question as the young dragon explored anything and everything he came across. As the dragon understood more, he asked more probing questions about how Dax had found his egg and the events leading up to his hatch. Dax explained as best he could, but Kahshect always wanted to know more, even if he did not comprehend everything Dax said. These sessions usually sent Dax off into further reveries about the life he had left behind.

  His conversations with Treyhorn were casual and usually centered on immediate concerns, but sometimes in the evenings, they shared more about their lives. By now she felt like a relative, and she certainly treated him as a family member. She talked about her children, two girls and one boy, and their children—eleven she said. He was unsure he had all the names and connections completely straight except for her new great-grandson whom she proudly identified as Micca. In return he shared stories of his father and his life in the castle. He enjoyed these conversations because he could speak freely with her about his past life—something he had been forced to keep closely hidden for more than a year.

  #

  One afternoon they came out of the woods into a clearing on top of a high point of land jutting out into a small lake. The site had a remarkable view of the water and the surrounding countryside. The lake was only a few miles across, but it had a small island out in the middle. Even though it was not yet their normal stopping time, Treyhorn unslung her pack and laid down her walking sticks. She nodded out toward the lake. “Most folk around here call this Crystal Lake. The island is Kasote’s Island, named after an old hermit who used to live there. This spot is one of my favorites, so when I’m in the area, I usually camp here.”