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

by William Culbertson

  Dax’s skin flushed with a blaze of hatred. His hands trembled with the urge to strike out, but this was not the time. His ribs were badly injured. Fighting these men while he was bound was worse than futile. He had no choice. Instead, he filled his mind with visions of wrathful retribution. He did not move or cry out when they picked him up roughly and laid him in the box.

  Zodas looked down into the coffin and smiled. “Now that’s a good lad. Don’t worry. It will be a wee bit close in there, but we’ll let you out when we make camp this evening.” Zodas used easy tones as if he were a confidant, a friend—a fawning friend whose soul had been spawned by the Dark One.

  Of all the challenges Dax had faced since he had left the castle, lying quietly in the coffin while the men closed and latched the lid was the hardest. Grimly determined, he gritted his teeth and lay quietly when the cover thumped down. The dark was blacker than night. The snap of each latch echoed like a thunderbolt in the blackness. He took a breath of pine-scented air, but he did not scream. The pain in his broken ribs distracted him, but he single-mindedly forced himself to relax—show no reaction. He lay placidly in the coffin and let the fires of vengeance burn in his thoughts alone.

  Eventually his anger ebbed. He could think normal thoughts again. Inside, the box was inky black and quiet as a tomb. He had enough control over himself to breathe normally. His chest hurt. Slowly and deliberately, he relaxed his muscles just the way Herne had coached him. Just another hard practice, he told himself. Let one muscle relax at a time before going on to the next. Step by step. His body calmed. He focused on slow, regular breaths. Painful breaths, but regular breaths.

  The jolt when they picked the box up startled him. He jerked in response. Agony lanced through his side. This time he did groan aloud, but with his mouth gagged and the coffin closed, no one could hear. They carried the box out of the room. The motion jostled him from side to side. He felt a shock when they laid it down. He heard the coffin slide, and it stopped with a thump.

  #

  When they took Dax out of the box again, it was night. Treyhorn lay off to one side, not moving. Although it was dark, he saw glints of light from the river on one side. The stars were overhead. The dim shadow of the road led back to a faint glow of light at the top of a rise. Timberlake. They had come down from the city and were on the lower river road.

  They tied the restraints to his neck and wrists again before they fed him. He helped Treyhorn get a bit to eat and drink before they bound him again and placed him back in the box. He had slept some earlier, and now he was not tired. He could not move. Through the box, he heard only quiet mumbles from the men. The night crept by. He had already thought of all the ways he could take revenge, but he reviewed the list again, making sure he remembered all the details. It was very late before he fell asleep again.

  Chapter 20

  Cella Allu hung the damp sheets and towels on the line one at a time. The morning was sunny and warm. The day would be a hot one. By the third sheet, the first drops of sweat had formed on her brow. She was plump, and she knew it. During the cold season, she was always more comfortable than the other girls, but she paid for it during the summer’s heat. Getting older too, but that was another story.

  Well, it was rightfully hot, being the time for Summer Fair and all. In one way it was a favor despite her own discomfort. On warm, breezy days like this one, she could take in the laundry sooner, maybe even by lunchtime today. The shorter the time the sheets and towels were on the line, the shorter the time they would have to accumulate dust and dirt from the carts and horses on the road. With the extra loads of laundry from yesterday’s business, she would still be at it well into the afternoon. She hoped she could finish her laundry chores early enough to help peel the potatoes for the evening meal. The girls in the kitchen always had the best gossip.

  Traffic on the road this morning had not been nearly as heavy as the day after the festival. Even yesterday a steady stream of people had passed the inn going downriver. Orrysa had told her not to even bother with the wash. The dusty foot traffic would have had the linens filthy before they were dry.

  She looked up and saw an old, weather-beaten hearse passing on the road. Unconsciously she made a sign of blessing for the poor departed soul. As she bent over to get the next sheet, a dark shadow flashed overhead. Startled, she looked up just as a dragon slammed to the ground in front of the hearse. It reared up on its hind legs and roared, the spines on its neck and back fearsomely erect. The horse hitched to the hearse reared and lunged off the road toward Cella. The driver of the rig scrambled off and ran for the trees on the other side of the road.

  Three riders accompanied the hearse, and their horses reared and screamed as well. The riders hung on desperately. One rider fell off as his horse danced on two legs. He landed in the road. The other two riders whipped their horses to flee. The dragon planted its feet back on the road, and turned on the fallen man. With a roar the dragon speared the man with a searing gout of flame. The man’s body shriveled like a sweet-pod thrown into a fire. Without pause the dragon swept the roaring conflagration to the running driver with the same gruesome result. The flame stopped. The monster lifted its head in a deafeningly loud, whistling roar. With a thunderous clap of its wings, the beast took to the air to chase the escaping riders. A swirl of dust spiraled up in its wake.

  The attack had happened so fast that Cella scarcely had started to react before the dragon was gone again. She stood there gasping, her heart beating wildly. When she recovered her senses, she carefully put the clean sheet she still held into the basket. The hearse had tumbled onto its side at the edge of the road, and the horse struggled to get up. Several coffins had spilled out of the back and lay on the ground.

  Cella looked around carefully. The dragon had gone, but the poor horse was on its side between the shafts, fighting against its harness. She cautiously approached the vehicle. The horse saw her and redoubled its efforts to get up. She tried speaking in a soothing voice to calm the animal while she searched her dress for the knife she always carried. Orrysa insisted that all the women carry knives, and now she was glad she had one. Still speaking quietly to the horse, she bent to cut away the harness straps. Two cuts—three—suddenly the horse was free. It scrambled to its feet and ran off, back up the road toward Timberlake.

  She watched the retreating horse for a moment. A sudden flap of wings and gust of air behind her sent her heart to her throat. The dragon! Her pulse thundered in her ears. It’s back! She turned to flee but glanced over her shoulder and hesitated. It was not the same dragon. This one was small—no bigger than she was, and it was not interested in her at all. Instead it pawed at one of the coffins lying on the side of the road. Poised to run but puzzled, Cella watched the little dragon pawing at the long wooden casket. It made a keening sound and desperately clawed the box.

  She took a deep breath and gathered her courage. Cautiously she moved toward the dragon. “What’s the matter, boy? What’s in there?”

  The dragon looked around at her for the first time. He hissed a warning but did not attack. Instead he went back to plucking at the coffin. Cella turned the knife in her hand, but then thought better of it and slipped it back in her dress pocket. A knife against a dragon? Even a little one? No, the dragon was desperate to get into the box, and she had always had a soft spot in her heart for creatures in distress.

  The dragon made more keening sounds, then looked up at her with a pleading look. “There’s something in there you want, isn’t there, fella?” she said calmly, trying to reassure the unhappy beast. Cella did not expect an answer, and she was startled when the little dragon nodded vigorously. Was it agreeing with her? Cella looked down at the casket. It lay at an angle across the road and slanted down into the drainage ditch. There were latches, but they were on the bottom. She pulled at one tentatively. It would open, but the latch swung down into the dirt. Then she understood. The coffin was upside-down.

  She looked back at the inn. Three heads peaked
out from one side the entry porch. She waved and shouted, “Come help. I need to turn this over.” The other girls did not move. Cella tried to turn the box by herself. There was another coffin lying across one end. She lifted again, and the coffin moved—but not enough. The little dragon nudged her aside, and it pulled at the coffin.

  “You can’t do it either, can you, boy?”

  She turned back to the inn and called to the girls, “There’s no danger.” At least, she hoped there was none. “I need help. Come help me turn this over!” Finally Sal and Dede stepped out from behind their shelter and slowly approached the demolished hearse and scattered caskets.

  Cella started giving commands. They moved the coffin off the top. Cella impatiently told them to grasp the side of the coffin on the ground to help turn it over. The small dragon had backed away, letting them work. It fretted impatiently.

  “Ready. Heave!” With three women pulling and pushing, the coffin finally rolled up onto its side, then crashed over onto its bottom. With the latches on the top, she flicked them back easily. The other girls watched, but Cella hesitated. The coffin’s lid was unlatched, but she was not sure she wanted to see the body inside. Why had the little dragon been so intent?

  Finally she steeled herself and swung back the lid. There was no smell of decayed flesh. Instead she found herself looking at a tightly bound person. She stared for a moment, but the small dragon pushed her aside. It mewed happily and licked and nuzzled the figure in the coffin. Cella reached into the coffin and pulled at the blindfold. A young boy blinked back at her with dark, pleading eyes. She reached hesitantly past the dragon and pulled at the gag across the boy’s mouth. As it came away, the boy gasped out, “Thank you. Where is Bindle? Can you check the other coffins? There is someone else.”

  Looking at the other girls behind her, she snapped, “Quick. Check the other coffins. There’s someone else in one of them.”

  Cella reached in to help the boy sit up, but she stopped when he gasped in pain. “No! Wait,” he said. “I’m hurt. I think I have some broken bones.” He paused to collect himself. “Can you untie some of the ropes? I need help.”

  The young dragon had backed away. It stood watching, but it shifted its feet impatiently. Cella reached into the coffin and worked at a few of the knots. Finally she took out her knife and started cutting. As she worked, she smiled at the boy and said, “Did you know the little dragon was the one that showed me where to look? I’ve never seen a dragon up close like that.”

  The boy was still blinking in the light, but he smiled up at her. “That’s Kahshect. He’s very grateful for your help. He admires your courage.”

  “You can talk to him?”

  “Yes. He’s a young dragon, but he’s very smart.” The boy’s voice had been hoarse and rusty at first, but now he spoke with more confidence.

  The boy rolled his eyes up and tried to look toward the dragon. “Don’t just stand there,” he ordered. “Come over and help. Can’t you use one of those sharp claws to cut a rope or two?”

  Cella continued to work on the ropes around the boy’s torso and watched as the dragon went to the end of the coffin and began plucking at the ropes binding the lower part of the boy’s body.

  Suddenly Dede shouted excitedly from the other side of the toppled hearse, “Here’s the other one!” They had unlatched another casket that contained another person. Cella looked, but she could not see much. The girls started to untie the other person.

  “Careful,” the boy said. “She’s hurt pretty badly.”

  Cella looked over at the other girls and shouted, “He says to be careful. She’s hurt bad.”

  All at once there was whirlwind of air and dust. A large shadow dimmed the light, and Cella looked up. The big dragon landed gently on the road by the upset hearse. It loomed over them, but it folded its wings and sat back on its haunches. The other two girls screamed. Cella crouched low over the boy, too petrified to even scream. She had seen what that monster had done to the men just moments ago.

  “That’s Namkafnir,” the boy said reassuringly. “Don’t be afraid. You’ve never been safer in your life. He’s Bindle’s bondmate. He’d help if he could, but big dragons aren’t very good with small knots.”

  Cella watched the large dragon sitting quietly but alertly in the road. Slowly she nodded in agreement. The dragon did not look menacing now, but it watched them closely. “All right, if you say so.” Still uncertain, she called out to Sal and Dede to explain. Cella looked back into the coffin and resumed her work on the ropes. She cut though another of the boy’s bonds. “I’m Cella,” she said by way of introduction.

  “I’m Leith,” the boy replied, “and I’m really, really glad to see you.”

  Chapter 21

  “I’ll wrap the ribs in a bit, but your collarbone needs to be set first.”

  Dax sat on a table in his underclothes. The room was uncomfortably cool. He shivered and grimaced in pain. Orrysa replaced the soft blanket around Dax’s shoulders. She scowled at the doctor. “You’ll give the boy the balab fever on top of his injuries if you let him get a chill.”

  The doctor scowled right back. “See here, woman. I had to examine him, didn’t I?” He snorted in exasperation. Orrysa did not budge. Finally the doctor looked away and muttered, “It’s bad enough being dragged halfway across the whole of West Landly on the back of one of those monster drakons. Those damned dragon-bound should be lucky I didn’t suffer a fit of apoplexy.” The man continued to talk to himself as he pulled the blanket away to get at Dax’s shoulder again.

  Dax tried not to wince as the man gently traced the misaligned bone in his left shoulder. “Sir?” Dax ventured. “How is Bindle Treyhorn? The woman who was injured?” With all the bustle, questions, and pain of his own examination, he had not thought to ask.

  “Eh?” The man stopped probing Dax’s shoulder and looked him in the eyes. “She’s hurt, but she’s dragon-bound. I reset a few bones, cleaned and sewed a nasty cut on her back, that sort of thing. She’ll mostly sleep while she heals.”

  “She’ll be okay?”

  “Of course she will. I’ve treated any number of the dragon-bound like you two. She’s tough. Just make sure she gets plenty of nourishment like soups and other soft foods. Keep her fed and comfortable. She’ll be up and around in a month or so.”

  “I’ll see to it personally,” Orrysa said.

  The doctor looked at her and frowned, but she met his eyes with cool confidence. “See that you do.” The doctor nodded towards Dax. “Now help me with this lad. Let’s lay him back down on the table, then I need you to hold him while I move the bone back into place.”

  Although it hurt as they laid him back, Dax forced himself to remain quiet.

  The doctor put his warm hand on Dax’s forehead and looked him in the eye. His voice was gentle. “I’m going to set your collarbone, son, and it will hurt. You won’t like it, but I’ve got to get the ends of the bone back together so it will heal right.” He took a piece of leather from his bag. “Here. Bite down on this. I know you are dragon-bound, and you look the type to grit your teeth to bear the pain. This may keep you from breaking a tooth or two.”

  At a nod from the doctor, Orrysa tightened her grip on his legs. Dax lay there and tried to relax. The doctor’s hands explored his aching shoulder again, but Dax forced himself to examine the pain objectively. Yes, it hurt, but as the doctor explored with his fingers, much of the pain came from the muscles in his shoulders. Dax tried to relax even as the doctor probed deeper. An abrupt burst of pain made his eyes see sparks and his breath catch. He held his breath and tried again to relax his shoulder. Another pulse of agony surged through his shoulder, but then it felt better. He blinked a few tears of pain from his eyes. Yes, it felt much better.

  Dax looked up at the doctor. “Is it back where it should be?” he mumbled around the leather piece.

  “Yes, quite so. You are one tough little fellow,” the doctor said, smiling. “I’ve seen grown men bawl like a babe whe
n they have a bone set.” He snorted a little. “You’re a hard little nut, but you dragon-bound are all of a kind.”

  The doctor left after wrapping Dax’s shoulder and ribs. Cella had appointed herself Dax’s caretaker, and the doctor showed her how to change the bandages around Dax’s torso to care for him. Dax hoped the schedule would be shorter than the doctor had prescribed, but Cella nodded carefully at his words. She assured the doctor that Dax would follow his instructions to the letter. The doctor left with the door cutting off another complaint about traveling by drakon.

  As soon as the door had closed, Dax asked, “Could I go out and watch the drakon leave? I’ve never seen one of those before.”

  “No,” Cella replied immediately, but she said it calmly. She patted him on his good shoulder. “Dr. Kump said you are to stay in and rest for today. Tomorrow, if you feel like it, you can start taking short walks.”

  He was being treated like a babe again. He tried for something closer. “Well, can I at least see Bindle?”

  Cella smiled. “She’s sleeping in the next room. I looked in on her just before the doctor started on you. Maybe later this evening you can go in to see her when I take in her supper.”

  Although he would have liked to at least have looked in on Treyhorn, Dax sighed and relaxed on the bed where he lay. Within a moment, he was asleep. He slept until morning.

  #

  After several weeks, life at Orrysa’s Inn and Way Station had become routine. Dax was healing. The ribs on his left side no longer hurt so badly, but Cella kept his chest wrapped. She also made sure his left arm was strapped to his side to keep his collarbone in place while it mended. Each morning, Cella carefully cleaned him up and changed his bandages. Her attentions made him feel like a child again, but the woman was gentle and comforting. Dax always felt relaxed and at ease after she was done. His shoulder and ribs were not the only parts of him that were healing.