They made camp for the night in the mouth of a valley where a small river emptied into the Weston. Kemmy gestured up the valley. “Tomorrow we follow that track up the Verglas Valley north and east to Dinwiddie. Just upstream from here, the Weston turns south by east and runs on toward Newham. They’re both on the Circular Sea, ya know.”
Dax did know, but these words were the most Kemmy had spoken at one time since the trip began. He nodded encouragingly. “Newham’s where the monastery is, right?”
“Yep.” Kemmy said nothing more. Dax knew by now that small talk did not interest the man. Kemmy had just made what, for him, had amounted to a speech, but he made just the one.
Dax helped pitch camp. While Treyhorn had not talked constantly, he had shared a number of extended conversations with her about their families, the dragon-bound, and the routine sights and sounds of a journey. He missed her easy companionship. With Kahshect off to the Dragon Lands, Dax could not talk to him, but he could tell he was far to the west. Kemmy was a solid traveling companion, but he did little to make the miles go faster. Lately Dax had taken to having quiet “conversations” with Lala while they rode. The horse never answered, but she turned her ears this way and that as if listening, and occasionally she would look back over her shoulder at him and snort.
#
A week later, they rode into Dinwiddie. Low gray clouds scudded along, driven by a chill wind from the northeast. Dax now wore a long-sleeved shirt under his jacket, and this day he had pulled the sleeves down far enough to cover his hands. They had first sighted the Circular Sea early in the day, and he had caught more glimpses of the water through the trees as they followed the trail. Dax was all eyes, trying to take in everything at once. As they approached the buildings at the edge of town, he saw the distant top of a stone turret rising above the trees beyond the far edge of the village. “Kemmy,” Dax called. When the man looked around, Dax pointed. “Is that Iron Moor?”
The man nodded. “Going there first and drop you off. Do my business in town on the way back.”
Dax tingled with excitement. The end of his journey was in sight.
#
Dinwiddie was not a large community, but it had a number of shops along the road that led through town. Several houses and other buildings also sat along three narrow lanes that intersected the main road and led upslope into the trees on the north side of the road. The forest pressed in close about the settlement on three sides. To the south, the shore of the Circular Sea abutted the backs of the buildings beside the road. The town sat on a bluff above the shore, and Dax saw the tops of stairways and walkways leading down toward the shore.
The center of town was busy as they rode through. People bustled in the streets, coming and going from the shops. Many in the crowd were young people wearing uniforms—cadets from the academy. Dax smiled in pleasure. He would be one of them soon. They all wore gray tunics belted in place with a darker gray belt and matching cap. The cuffs were trimmed in the same darker shade, and they wore dark-gray leggings underneath. Some of the tunics had patches and stripes sewn on the sleeves. Rank insignia, he judged, remembering guardsmen’s uniforms at the castle in Tazzelton.
At the moment, Dax did not want to attract attention from his classmates-to-be, so he avoided eye contact and said nothing. At the other end of town, the road looped to the north. Once they rounded a corner, he could see towers and spires rising from imposing stone and brick buildings behind a dressed stone wall. His heart beat heavily in his chest with excitement. Iron Moor! At last. After all the months of hardship and struggle, he was finally here. He wiped his eyes to clear his vision and sniffed.
There was a bar across the gate. When they approached, a guard stepped out to challenge them. Kemmy identified himself and Dax to the officer’s satisfaction. Once the bar was removed, they rode through the open gate. Inside the wall, most of Iron Moor’s buildings faced onto a broad center courtyard, which ran down a long slope to the gray waters of the Circular Sea. Each building’s windowed facade had a large, imposing entryway lined with worked stone and closed by oak doors bound with metal strapping. Iron Moor, he told himself again. He grinned and thought of himself in uniform, marching through the central court.
Dax followed Kemmy onto a path between two buildings, and they circled around to the back of the larger one. Dax had managed to find out that Kemmy had been to Iron Moor in the past. Lala, for her part, followed Kemmy trustingly. At a hitching rail, they dismounted and tethered their horses. Kemmy led the way to a modest side door. Even this door was solid. Kemmy beat his fist against it heavily until he made a respectable sound. There was no response. Kemmy hammered again, and they waited.
Finally, the latch rattled, and the door creaked open. A man, thin and worn with years, peered out. “What do you want?” He sounded none too pleased by the interruption.
Dax started to step forward, but Kemmy spoke first. “Tarl? I’m Kemmy from down river. We’ve done business in the past. Brought you a new recruit.”
The man ignored Dax and peered closely at Kemmy. “Big fella, ain’t cha.” He took a moment to spit off into the grass at the side of the walk. “Yeah. Maybe I remember you.” He paused and scratched his head, then glanced at Dax. “Don’t matter if I knowed you or not. We’re full up. Not takin’ any new cadets.” He worked his mouth as if he was gathering more phlegm to spit.
For a moment, Dax was speechless. When Dax finally found his voice, he said, “But Orin Herne sent me. He knows Commandant Renshau. The commandant knows I’m coming.”
The man did spit. He peered at Dax with eyes so pale blue they were almost colorless. “You knows somebody who knows the commandant, huh? Well, that may get you an interview.” He stepped back and started to close the door. “But you’ll have to come back. Commandant Renshau’s gone.” The door closed with a solid thud, and the latch rattled back into place.
Dax was so surprised he could not speak. His long, hard journey . . . had failed? Orin Herne had taken him in when he had been on the streets hiding from Mathilde, and with Herne’s blessing, Dax had decided on a goal—go to Iron Moor Academy and learn from Nale Renshau. Orin Herne had sacrificed himself resisting Mathilde’s evil machinations, but Dax had found Kahshect and the dragon-bound. But all along, his goal had been Iron Moor. And now . . . nothing? This was supposed to be his future. He stared at the closed oak door. Alone, he felt far from brave.
“Stuck-up bastard, weren’t he?” Kemmy interrupted Dax’s dark thoughts. Kemmy shook his head and spat in his turn toward the steps. “Well, now what, young Master Leith? Back to Orrysa’s?”
Dax recoiled from the thought of giving up. There had to be some way to get in. His thoughts became more ordered. He needed to talk to Renshau himself. Finally he said, “Tell you what, Kemmy. You have business to take care of. While you go do that, I’ll ask around the town.” He gestured back toward Dinwiddie. “I saw some cadets as we rode through. Maybe I can find out how to contact the commandant. I’ll meet you at the farrier’s shop at the edge of town. If I can’t work something out, we’ll leave.”
“Right.” Kemmy nodded. “Well, you’ve got tomorrow yet. My mam will put us up for the night.”
They took the horses and rode back into Dinwiddie. Once among the shops, Dax dismounted and handed the reins to Kemmy. “Take Lala and get what you need. If I have to go back with you, we’ll work out the packing later.”
Kemmy nodded and moved off with Lala plodding along behind. The horse looked back at Dax wonderingly as she passed, but she followed Kemmy placidly.
Dax looked around. Now what? he thought. A group of cadets was clustered in front of a meeting hall at the center of town. Merchants had set up carts and tents for a market of some sort. Dax headed that way. Maybe he could learn where Renshau was and find a way to join the academy.
The first cadet he approached had a single stripe on his sleeve, and he wore his cap pushed back at a careless angle on his head. Dax tapped him on the shoulder. “Excuse me.” The boy
turned and looked at Dax. “Could you tell me how to find Commandant Renshau?”
The boy frowned. He was a taller than Dax and a good bit stouter. He had a round, florid face with no chin to speak of. “Who wants to know?”
“Please call me Leith. I was hoping to talk to the commandant about joining the academy.”
The boy looked Dax up and down and sneered. “Well, maybe I’ll call you Leith, but more likely I’ll call you a deevee, a dumb villager. Yeah, you’re just one of the deevees who wants to put on a uniform.” He stretched his thin lips into an ugly smile. “Wants to have all the little deevee girlies looking up to him,” he smirked and moved closer to Dax. Too close. Dax took a step back. “Besides,” the cadet laughed, “the academy is closed to outsiders. Orders of the commandant himself. Too many politickers from down south around these days.” He took a swaggering half step forward. “Maybe you’re one of ’em. Come to stir up trouble like the rest.”
The boy edged even closer. Dax retreated but bumped into someone behind him. A growing group of cadets had gathered around, and they were all staring at him.
“What you got there, Rab?” called a voice behind Dax. “Is the deevee giving you lip?”
“Little deevee says he wants to sign up.” Rab crowded close again. “Maybe we should show him what happens to deevees who come wanting to bother the commandant.”
The boy behind him grabbed Dax’s arms and jerked him off his feet. As his feet left the ground, Rab punched Dax in the jaw. Dax’s head rolled back with the blow. Rab delivered a second punch into Dax’s gut, and Dax’s head snapped forward again. The person holding him from behind let go, and Dax crumpled to the ground. Dazed, he watched dumbly as Rab kicked him in the side—his left side.
Dax lay on the ground, stunned. His ribs flared with pain from the impact of Rab’s boot. The pulse of agony in his chest was swamped by the answering wave of dragon anger that burned through his body. Hot fury flooded his mind. As his senses became painfully alert, Dax fought for control. He could not let the rage consume him. He lay still, struggling to control his anger. Focus. He had to focus. He forced himself to plan his moves.
When he had control, Dax opened his eyes. He saw everything in exquisite detail from the pebble in front of his nose to the smear of dust on Rab’s pant leg. Dax moved slowly. He rolled onto his hands and knees as if groggy.
“Hey, look, Rab,” called the boy who had grabbed Dax from behind. “He’s getting up. The deevee wants to go another round with you.”
As he got up, Dax surveyed the crowd around him. He noted everyone’s exact position and posture. Once on his feet, he looked directly at Rab. The taller boy smiled with anticipation. Dax smiled disarmingly. “I’ll bet you really are just as dumb as you look.”
Rab instantly lost his smile, and his face flushed with anger. Rab’s ally caught Dax’s arms from behind again, but this time Dax was ready. Rab was close in front of him, and Dax kicked him viciously in the crotch. Rab howled in pain, and Dax’s sudden movement made the boy behind Dax stumble backward. The boy behind him still had a grip on Dax’s arms. Dax felt the boy tense to jerk Dax off his feet again. As the boy started the motion, Dax jumped upward. Dax’s leap overbalanced them both. Together they toppled backward with Dax on top. The boy grunted underneath Dax’s weight. Dax rolled off and stood up. He put his boot heel on the boy’s solar plexus and jumped toward Rab. Rab was on the ground with two cadets bent over helping him to his feet. Dax slammed into the closest and knocked him down on top of Rab. He rolled off that boy and continued rolling until he had taken the legs out from under the second cadet, dumping him onto the pile.
Dax bounced back to his feet near a merchant tent. He grabbed one of the sticks supporting the tent’s front flap and pulled it loose. Gripping the support stick like a staff, he turned back to face the boys. He twirled it around his hand twice like Herne had shown him, then slapped it down into the palm of his other hand, ready in the guard position. Herne had always told him the more proficient you looked with a weapon, the less likely it was your opponent would do something stupid.
“Hold!” The command echoed off the buildings. Every single one of the cadets in the square froze in place. They all stiffened to attention and faced the two men on horseback at the edge of the crowd.
“What is going on here?” The larger man rode slowly forward into the crowd. “Do I see my cadets brawling on the streets of Dinwiddie?” Solidly built, he appeared well into middle age and sat rigidly upright in his saddle. He wore a uniform, but his uniform was all black and cut as a full coat with gold trim.
He fixed his gaze on Rab and the boys who had attacked Dax. “Uni Rab, what is going on?” The words were clipped and precise.
“Well, sir, this dee—” The boy hesitated. The glare from the rider was scorching in its intensity. “I mean, the young man here was giving us some lip about not being loyal to West Landly. He probably meant to stir up trouble like those others did a couple of months ago. Me and the others was about to run him off, sir.”
“I saw you attack this man—you and Uni Pazen.”
“Sir! He was calling you names and defaming the academy, sir. We were just going to get the better of him and chase him away.”
“Get the better of him?” The man smiled grimly at Rab, who was trying not to cower. The man’s horse took a step forward, and the boy moved back. “I saw him put four of you on the ground, using his bare hands no less, and he now has a weapon.” He smiled tightly at the cadet. “Your lying words stink of rot as you speak them.” Rab started to turn to his friends for confirmation, but the man interrupted. “Don’t even think of trying to involve your cronies in your falsehoods.” His sharp tone allowed no contradiction. “Have you forgotten I am dragon-bound? I will have nothing from you but the truth.” His stare was as cold as the winter wind from the Faymarsh Crags.
The commandant turned to the man on horseback beside him. “Captain Aris, make a note. Uni Rab has earned himself a special order, second level, today. I will conduct a hearing tomorrow after LRC in my office with the rest of the disciplinary board in attendance. Invite Cadets Pazen, Topsin, and Weddle as well. They have earned themselves a special order, first level.”
After a final glare at the four cadets, the man turned to Dax. “I believe you must be the one I’ve been waiting for.” His tone was soft and personal. “Teycuktet said he understood from Namkafnir that you would be arriving soon.”
“Yes, sir,” Dax replied. He was overjoyed to finally meet Commandant Renshau. At the same time, he was absolutely terrified he would say the wrong thing and make a fool of himself. He took a deep breath. “Bindle Treyhorn was injured and couldn’t come, sir. She’d promised to introduce me to you properly, but I guess I’ll just have to do that myself. Please, sir, call me Leith.”
Commandant Renshau looked at him speculatively. “Yes . . . Leith.” He nodded. “So, Leith, we have much to talk about. Let’s get you back to the academy. You have had a long journey.” He reached down with his hand. Dax took it, and the man lifted him effortlessly into the saddle just in front of him.
Renshau looked at the other cadets, who stared in surprised uncertainty. “I think today’s leave has been cancelled.” His voice again carried through the town square. “I am ordering everyone back on grounds without delay. The last three back will do two extra laps at fitness drill tomorrow morning.”
There was a pause as the cadets absorbed the order, then as a group, they bolted toward the road to the academy.
#
Fortunately Dax remembered Kemmy, and Renshau easily located the man. Dax collected his gear and thanked Kemmy for his help. After he had wished Kemmy a safe journey, Renshau headed back through town. By the time they got to the academy, it was no longer the quiet, somber place he had seen earlier. The grounds of the school teemed with life as cadets bustled here and there. The clouds had begun to break up, and the whole scene was brighter. The stone buildings no longer looked gloomy and forbidding.
“Excuse me, sir. DRC?”
“Dinner roll call.” Renshau smiled pleasantly. “You’ll get to learn a whole new vocabulary. Some of our jargon is similar to the guard’s, but a lot of it is as old as these walls.”
Dax nodded. “King Darius Ambergriff II.”
“Yes, he built the first two buildings. Well done. Evnissyen?” Renshau asked.
“Yes, sir. He did most of my tutoring.”
The building Renshau led him to was not large, but it faced the main causeway down near the end of the road. They went down an empty hallway paneled in dark wood. The heels of Renshau’s boots made sharp reports on the stone flooring. He opened a door labeled Commandant in small gold letters and gestured for Dax to precede him. Once inside, Renshau closed the door behind them. The commandant’s office was not as large as Dax had expected, but the panes of a wide, leaded glass window gave an expansive view of the campus. The day was still not sunny, and the office was gloomy. Renshau lit the lamp on his desk, and it lifted some of the shadows.
Renshau did not go his desk but gestured Dax to a comfortable chair and took a matching chair across from it. “Your Highness,” he said quietly, “now that we are alone, I want to formally welcome you to Iron Moor.”
“Thank you, sir,” Dax said, “but I really don’t think that title is appropriate any longer.”
King's Exile: Chronicles of the Dragon-Bound: Book 1 Page 37