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

by William Culbertson

  “I know.” She smiled and lifted her hair up on top of her head before she let it fall again. “But maybe I’m just not as nice as I act.”

  Dax did not know what to say, so he ventured, “Is it time to go to bed?”

  “Why? Are you tired?”

  “Not really. I just thought it might be a good place to talk.”

  Anna sparkled with delight. “Oh, yes, and now that we’re alone here in private, there’s so many more things we can talk about. First things first, though. We have to be naked.” She reached past him to pull down the covers from the bed.

  “Naked!” Dax burst out.

  “Shhh. We may be alone, but there are lots of other people out and about.”

  “We can’t be naked,” he whispered desperately.

  “Why not? I like to sleep naked in my room at home. I feel so free, and I love to have all these perfectly naughty thoughts. Come on,” she said with enthusiasm. “Let’s be naked.” She kicked off her shoes and pulled the long embroidered gown over her head and tossed it on top of her bag. Her undershift and underclothes followed quickly.

  She pirouetted in front of Dax. “There. I feel so much better. Now you,” she said and pointed her finger straight at him.

  Dax could not think. He was in a panic. He could not take his clothes off. His heart thumped in terror, but his complete attention was locked on Anna’s young but budding body so casually displayed in the flickering candlelight.

  “Oh, don’t be so modest.” Before Dax could react, she had snatched his sleeping shift off right over his head. Dax grabbed for the shift, but Anna seized his underclothes, upsetting him on the bed, where she stripped them from his legs.

  Anna whispered a crow of triumph. “I knew it! I knew it!” She grinned at him, then bent closer to his face and whispered, “I knew you were a boy!”

  Dax lay there a moment stunned. The fierce fighting resolve started to well up inside him—his dragon response?—but he had not been attacked. Just . . . exposed. His senses became more acute. He heard the groaning complaints of the ship’s timbers as the waves washed past and smelled the slightly dusty-musty smell of his bedding. And he saw every detail of Anna’s naked form.

  Embarrassed, afraid, and aroused all at once, he did not know what to do. He was angry with Anna, but she was already a good friend. He was alone. His father was dead along with his aunt and uncle. Mathilde and her plot had forced him to abandon his kingship—the entire life he knew. He was a fugitive. The fear and the loss overwhelmed all his resolve. He rolled over and buried his face in the bedclothes. Tears flooded his eyes, and he sobbed.

  “Oh, Leith, honey. I didn’t mean to make you unhappy.” The bed shifted as Anna crawled beside him. She put a hand on his shoulder and began to gently stroke his hair. “It’s okay. Really it is. I just wanted to know for sure. Oh, please don’t cry.”

  She tried to reassure him, but hopelessness squeezed his heart. A black pit of despair opened up, and he fell into it. Great sobs tore through him as he thought of all the things he had lost in the last few months. He could not even think of who and where he was. He was lost. Alone and lost.

  Slowly he realized Anna was holding him . . . stroking him . . . gently rocking him. All the while she crooned a soft, wordless song. Eventually, he relaxed. His sobs gradually stopped, and he snuffed his nose.

  “There, there,” she murmured. “That’s better.” She handed him a small cloth. “Here, use this on your nose.”

  Dax wiped his nose, but that was not enough. Finally he blew his nose lustily then gasped at the loud, rude sound.

  Anna was still holding and rocking him. In the dim light, he looked at her and saw her eyes were full of tears as well. “Oh, Leith. I’m sorry.” She hugged him. “So sorry. Please don’t be mad at me.”

  He had to try twice before he could croak out a word. “It’s okay. Really.” He lay there quietly while Anna held him. He untwisted just a bit inside. Finally he sighed. “Thank you. I feel better.”

  She did not release him but tugged a blanket up to half cover them. She snuggled down beside him. “There’s something wrong, isn’t there? Tell me.”

  He nodded, and she hugged him more tightly. He lay quietly trying to think what to say. Finally he found his voice. “I—I’m in danger. Real danger. That’s why I dressed the way, I mean, like a . . .”

  “You disguised yourself as a girl.”

  “They were trying to kill me.” He paused. “They killed my father. I . . . found out.”

  She hugged him tight. “Who was?”

  He wanted to tell Anna everything. The burden of his secrets, held deep inside for so long, pushed at him. He yearned to tell someone—especially Anna. If he could share his fears, maybe they would not engulf him in the dark hours of the night.

  But no. If he told Anna his secrets, she would be in danger. What would Mathilde and her people do if they got word that Anna had met a strange boy on his way to Bington? Dax sighed and summoned up his courage. “Anna, I’m sorry. I really want to tell you everything. You don’t know how much I want to.” He had to pause and swallow a sob before he went on. “But if I do, you might be in danger too. I just can’t do that to you.”

  In the dim light, he glanced at her. She looked surprised. “I know you are telling me the truth about that.” She stopped and frowned. “I’m not afraid, but maybe I don’t know enough.” Dax gave her a hug, and she surprised him when she kissed him on the mouth and gently stroked his hair back from his cheek. “Leith, whoever you are, I want to help. Is there anything I can do?”

  “That is my name. Leith, I mean.”

  She smiled. “I could tell.”

  “I don’t know what you can do to help. We—there are some people helping me—we have a pretty good plan. I think.” She looked at him expectantly when he paused. “No.” He shook his head resolutely. “I better not say anything about that either. I should be all right if I can just—finish this trip.”

  He tried to think what else he could say. “Listen, right now the thing that would make me feel the best would be if we just, you know, kept on being friends. I really liked having you to talk to today. For the first time since, well, in a long time now, I was able to just enjoy myself. With you, I mean. Can we do that tomorrow?”

  She beamed at him. “I’d love to. This voyage isn’t going to last long, but you don’t have to worry as long as you’re on the Wings of Wind. Do you?”

  Safe and secure with no worries. Dax sighed, comfortable in her embrace. He had not realized how desperately he wanted to feel safe. He was almost sure none of Mathilde’s people were on board—almost, but not completely. There was something wrong with that Kembel man they had met in the captain’s cabin. And Fars. Who was he? That was not his name, and his bluff, outgoing good humor on top of all his tall tales did not feel right. The crew? The ones they had talked with seemed to be either amused and enchanted by Anna or brusquely indifferent to her good humor. Maybe he was safe, but he would be safer if he continued to be wary.

  After his abbreviated explanation, Anna and Dax talked of small matters on into the evening. She liked riding the small bay mare in her father’s stable. He shared that his favorite horse had always been a spirited black that his aunt and uncle had owned. She described a pair of acrobats, a dwarf and a near giant of a man, she had seen once at a fair in Newham. They had put on an amazing tumbling routine that had everyone in hysterics. He told her about a juggler’s act he had seen once. The man had thrown a whole series of balls so they circled and bounced in amazing arcs. In the middle of the act he had seemed to lose control, with balls scattering everywhere. But to everyone’s amazement, the balls bounced right back to him, reassembling into the same pattern as before.

  Every time he spoke, however, Dax thought before he added each detail. He wanted to open up with Anna, but he knew if he did, it might put her in peril. He chose his words carefully. Even with his cautious reserve, talking with Anna about everyday events made him feel more rel
axed and confident than he had been in a long time. Eventually their conversational pauses got longer and longer. The boat rocked on into the night, and they drifted off to sleep.

  #

  Sometime much later, Dax awoke. Anna had cuddled up with her back to him, and his arms were around her sleeping form. Warmth and security. Lying here with her he was free from an aching anxiety he had not realized he had carried with him. His mind wandered as he lay there, and he noticed his wrist lay across Anna’s small, soft breast. Not moving for fear of waking her, he tried to decipher tactile sensations from the intimate contact. No good. His arm had been there too long. He could not feel a thing.

  Suddenly he heard a noise, a scuffle, out in the passageway. It was the noise that had awakened him. He heard Trimble’s cabin door open and a quiet giggle of laughter. Trimble? Dax listened hard and thought he heard another voice, this one low and soft, encouraging and helping someone into the cabin. After a quiet time, the door across the passageway creaked quietly closed. Again there was no sound for a time. Eventually quiet footsteps paced away down the passageway. Was that Fars bringing Trimble back to his cabin? Why would Trimble need help? Before he could puzzle on that too long, Dax fell back asleep.

  #

  The next time Dax awoke, light streamed in through the small porthole. He stirred and realized Anna was wrapped around him with her head on his shoulder. He moved, and she snuggled closer. She hugged him and mumbled, “Mmm. This is just how I wanted to wake up this morning.”

  Dax liked it too, but he also had to visit the privy closet down the passageway—urgently. Anna clung to him has he disengaged, but he got up and kissed her cheek. “I’ll be right back.” He had to look for his sleeping shift after Anna had tossed it aside the night before. Out in the passageway he almost ran into Captain Lauter. Embarrassed at being caught in his nightclothes, especially female nightclothes, Dax blushed. The captain did not even seem to notice. “Good morning, miss,” he said with a tug at the bill of his hat as he squeezed by Dax on this way to the deck.

  The privy closet was an interesting experience in itself. Inside, under the wooden cover, the ocean rushed by below—disconcerting for someone who was used to privy closets built over fetid dark holes. Still, the accommodations were considerably more civilized for passengers than for the crew.

  Back in his room, Anna was already getting dressed. “Is breakfast ready?” she asked.

  “I think so. I heard the mate setting up the captain’s mess.” Last night at supper, Captain Lauter had explained that many areas on his ship served a double purpose. At the time, they dined in his cabin, a wide, expansive room across the stern of the ship. However, most meals were taken in a separate mess room partitioned off from the captain’s private space. Dax liked to use the shipboard terms because it made him sound like an experienced traveler.

  “Well, I’ve got to go back to my cabin to get a change of clothes.” She smiled at Dax. “So what are you going to wear today?”

  Moryn had mentioned some of the finer points of choosing appropriate clothing before he had left, but with all the other preparations, that particular topic had not seemed very important. He shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll just wear what I had on yesterday. Why?”

  She made a face at him. “Don’t you dare. If you are to be a lady of quality, you must always have something fresh to wear that no one has seen before.”

  He looked at her and frowned. How could anyone possibly have enough clothes to travel for more than a few days? Anna looked back at him expectantly. Now that Anna knew he was a boy, he felt awkward about dressing in girls’ clothing. Finally he shrugged. “Well, what would you suggest?”

  That was the right answer. Anna smiled and bounced to the storage cubbies where Dax had stashed his clothes. She sorted through the dresses hanging from the bar in the largest cubby. She finally selected two and laid them on the bed. Down on her knees, she sorted through his scarves, sashes, and shoes. She examined everything, muttered a few comments to herself, then put most of them back. A few articles she matched up against one or the other of the dresses. He did not count, but she must have tried every combination at least three times.

  Finally, she stood up with a smile. “Last night the captain said it was supposed to be nice and sunny today. I think the yellow dress would look wonderful. It’s not too full either. With all the stuff around here that has tar and gunk on it, that would be a good thing.”

  Dax smiled back at her. “You’re just great. I never would have thought of that.”

  She stuck her tongue out at him. “Of course you wouldn’t.” Then she whispered, “’Cause you’re a boy.” She went into gales of laughter.

  He stared at her, speechless.

  “Oh, come on. I’m kidding.” She took his arm and guided him to the bed. “Here, get into this, but don’t go out until I get back. I want to fix your hair.”

  She turned him around to face her. Her face was serious. “Leith, I want to help you with your disguise,” she said quietly. “I don’t have the muscle to protect you like Lukas, but I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe.” Then she laughed and pushed him onto the bed. Before he could get back to his feet, she was out the door.

  #

  Again that day, Dax and Anna spent the best part of the morning exploring the ship. The weather was bright and sunny as promised, and the wind had picked up a little from the west. Since that was the direction they had to sail to reach Butterock, Captain Lauter explained the process of working the ship to windward—into the wind. Ships were not just blown along like thistledown by the wind. The ship could sail at an angle up into the wind. However, to make progress, they had to sail a long series of side-to-side tacks, back and forth, each tack gaining a few more miles into the wind.

  While Captain Lauter was on deck, he let Anna then Dax take the helm of the ship and steer for a while. He pointed out the proper number heading for the shadow line, then stood alertly at their side while they each held the great wheel. Guiding the ship on a straight course was more difficult than it looked. Anna worked hard to keep the ship on course, but their wake astern traced a series arcs twisting to and fro. She soon grew frustrated and gave the wheel to Dax while she talked with the captain.

  When Dax took the wheel from her, he was surprised by its feel in his hands. The spoked wooden spindles vibrated in his hands, pulsing as the moving water rushed across the rudder, pushing it to and fro. The rudder steered the ship and communicated its motion through the wheel to his hands. However, the ship lagged in its response to the rudder. The slow response frustrated Dax, because it caused him to overcorrect at first. Soon, however, the motion of the wheel in his hands started to tell him where the ship was going to go even before it became obvious. He started to anticipate the swing and surge of the ship through the water.

  He glanced behind to check. Sure enough, the ship’s wake was nicely straight. Although Anna was still talking to Captain Lauter, the captain watched Dax. When he saw Dax look back, he excused himself from Anna and moved to stand beside Dax. The captain said, “Read the mark on the hourglass and make the shadow line on that same heading.”

  Dax looked at the hourglass and asked, “Thirty-two?”

  “Aye, aye, mate. Bring her gentle.”

  Dax moved the wheel, and the ship responded. As the shadow settled on the new mark, he thought about what he was doing. “The sun moves and changes the angle of the shadow,” he said, “so you have to follow the hourglass to keep the heading straight.”

  “Very good, young lady.” The captain nodded. “We follow the wind, but we have to know our course so we can figure our position.” Dax continued to follow the prescribed course, and after a minute, the captain said, “Look to the sails. Do you see anything amiss?”

  Dax looked up at the curved canvas sculptures in the sky. After a moment’s study, he saw one sail did not have quite the same shape as the others. “The top sail on the tallest mast doesn’t look like the others.”


  Captain Lauter immediately raised his voice. “Mr. Rashgal, trim your main tops’l, please.” To Dax he said, “Well, young lady. I think you have the knack for this sailing business. If you ever feel the need for open ocean instead of a stuffy old drawing room, you just look me up. We’d make a fine sailor out of you.”

  Dax stayed at the wheel for a time, and the captain went on about his other business on the deck. The helmsman took the captain’s place at Dax’s side and watched him closely. Anna flounced up beside Dax. “I suppose you are just going to be insufferably smug about this sailing business, aren’t you?” She pretended to pout.

  He smiled at her. “I love this! I can feel the power of the wind even though I can’t see it.” He stopped and thought for a minute before he leaned over and quietly said, “Part of it is feeling like I am in control—for a change. I have to admit, though, the more I think about what I’m doing, the more nervous it makes me.” He did not say it aloud, but he thought how closely the feeling matched worries he had felt about being king. Many nights after a particularly vexing session with Evnissyen during the day, Dax had lain awake in bed, thinking of how difficult it would be to always make the right decisions when he finally took power as king.

  Dax looked over at the captain, who still kept at least one eye on Dax the whole time. “Captain, I think I’ve had enough here, sir. Would you take the wheel, please?”

  Captain Lauter smiled and stepped into position behind the wheel. “I have the wheel,” he announced. For a few minutes he steered the ship himself before he gestured to his helmsman and repeated the ritual of handing over control to the man.

  By now Dax had learned the crew members’ names and something about each one. He spoke to them every time he encountered them. Now even the ones who had brusquely brushed him off earlier in the day offered a few words of conversation. Even the burly bosun’s mate, who had only growled at them yesterday, greeted them and smiled, showing a glimpse of his crooked yellow teeth among the tangle of his large black beard.