Daxton - Episode 20
The 5th Compass | Tales of Stonehaven [2,630 words]
Daxton is the first book in the 6-book series, The 5th Compass, which takes place in Stonehaven. Released in serial form, two episodes each week on Tuesdays and Thursdays. The audio version is coming in the future for paid subscribers only. Visit the table of contents for a list of previously published and upcoming episodes.
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Glare bounced off the compass and kissed his eyes as the morning sun shone brightly in the sky. His eyes fluttered open and he put his hand up to shield his face from its glimmering translucent colors of purples and greens. He raised his head slowly, never moving his eyes from the compass. As he moved so did the colors, like a kaleidoscope. He waved his hand in front of it, blocking the sun, and the dancing colors disappeared. What did it mean? He would have plenty of time to play with it, for now he had to dress quickly, he was to meet Barton for their planned trip to the docks. He was excited to show him the sword and the compass, although he still was not sure just how much he should tell him.
His mother knocked lightly on his door in case he was still sleeping. “Daxton? Barton is downstairs. Shall I tell him you are unwell this morning?” She stayed up half the night listening intently to any noise that happened just in case her son should cry out again or if she heard him sneaking out to run away in anger. She was stunned when he yanked his door open, fully dressed.
“That won’t be necessary.” He brushed past her without another word. She gave a quick glance around the room and found the blanket along with the sword he was given last night, on his desk, but the compass and note were nowhere in sight. She waited till the sound of the front door slammed shut before she emerged from his room and upon entering the kitchen, found her husband sitting at the table with a drawn expression on his face.
“We had to do it.”
He slammed his plate of food on the table in front of him, shattering it, sending pieces and food flying across the room. “No, Mirum, you had to. And mark my words, whatever happens from this moment forwards, may it be on your head.” He left her standing in the middle of the kitchen and stomped out the front door, slamming it behind him as well.
“Are you sure you are up to this? We can just go hunting as we always do?” Barton asked. He never witnessed how sick Daxton got whenever he smelled the salt water from the sea but he did not want to take any chances he could get really sick.
“I am not sure, but I need answers, especially after what my parents told me last night.”
“What do you mean? You did not tell them about your nightmare, did you?”
Daxton handed him the compass he had in his pocket.
“Where did you get this?” Barton asked, holding it in the palm of his hand and turning it over slowly to get a better look at it from all angles. “it is bloody brilliant craftsmanship.”
“How would you know that? Are you an expert on compasses now?”
“As it so happens, I worked on a steamship once a few summers back for a man who owned several compasses. I asked him once why he owned so many and where he got them from…” Barton’s voice trailed off as he turned his mouth sideways and made a face as if deep in thought trying to remember something.
What luck Daxton felt to have a friend who could provide him with yet another clue he needed to find the woman who gave birth to him. In his mind, he had taken to calling her Adelaide, if only to give her a name. Maybe he wouldn’t need to decipher that note by going near the docks after all. “Out with it Bart, what was his answer?”
“that is just it you see, I cannot remember. Strange, isn’t it?”
“Well, do you remember the man? Maybe we can find him at the docks. Come on.” Daxton snatched the compass back from his friend’s hand and resumed walking towards the sea. He got several feet before turning back to notice Barton hadn’t taken a step yet. “What are you waiting for?”
“Did your parents give you that compass? Why?”
“That is none of your concern. I have it now and I really need to know who it belonged to. Maybe that steamship captain can tell us where he got his?” Daxton wanted to tell his best friend everything, show him the note and the sword, but he felt low enough as it was finding out the place he thought of as home, his family, was all a lie. He knew Barton wouldn’t throw it back in his face, but in a moment of anger he would, and the ammunition he already had of Daxton being poor was just about all he could stand right now.
“Are we not friends?” Barton asked and he received a prompt nod. “Are we not best friends?” Another nod. “I think of you as a brother.”
“As do I.”
“Granted, a less attractive and less talented brother you are in comparison to me, but—.” At this jab, Daxton grabbed Barton around the neck and brought him down to the ground kicking and screaming. “Let me go. I was only kidding.” Barton tried to free himself, but his laughter made his limbs useless against the grip Daxton held.
“Not until you proclaim me to be the handsomest and the most talented.”
“Okay, okay. Daxton is the most handsomest and talented—.”
“Louder!” he shouted into Barton’s ear.
“DAXTON IS THE MOST HANDSOMEST AND TALENTED BROTHER!” Daxton released him and they laid on their backs, in the dirt, laughing uncontrollably. When Barton was able to catch his breath, he said, “I mean it Daxton. You are like a brother to me. I would not have you keep a secret which appears, even on its surface, to contain mystery. And perhaps danger?”
Daxton did think of Barton as the brother he always wanted. And he may be correct to suspect once Daxton discovered the answers searched for his destiny may be riddled with danger. But until he knew for sure he could not bring Barton into it. “I promise brother, once I know all I need to I will tell you all you ask.” Daxton got up off the ground first and pulled his friend up. The two of them brushed dirt off them as best they could and continued down the road. They turned away from the forest and headed towards the docks.
As the thick trees grew smaller in the distance Daxton felt they were getting closer to the shore line of Gaspar. It had no name as King Rowan could not be bothered with naming something as insignificant as a dock. He claimed his ships were more important and deserving of his time. Therefore, the docks were commonly referred to as Serpent’s Head by the locals. It was called this not because of the shape of the shoreline which resembled more of a turtle’s shell than a serpent’s head, but because of the proximity of the most popular tavern of the same name.
A knot formed in the pit of Daxton’s stomach, but he swallowed back the urge he felt to be sick and carried on. “you are awfully quiet. It is not like you,” he said, trying to engage Barton in conversation, hoping it would distract him from the building nausea.
“It is not like you to keep a secret from me.”
“I thought I explained all that. Are you really…” Suddenly, the smell of the salty sea hit his nose and without much thinking, just pure muscle memory, he fell to his knees and threw up on the ground at Barton’s feet. He never saw his friend this way or anyone for that matter and was unsure of how to help. He just took a step back and tried not to look so repulsed at the sight. Daxton finally stopped making the horrid retching sound that almost made Barton join him and sat back on the ground. He wiped his mouth on this sleeve and grabbed the water skin, hung from his shoulder by a string, he carried with him. When the water hit his lips, he made like he would throw up again and Barton moved further away. But Daxton held the water in his mouth, sloshed it around and spit it out. He did this a couple times before Barton felt it was safe to approach.
“Maybe coming down here was a bad idea.”
Daxton shook his head vehemently. “No, I’ll be fine. I am usually only bad the instant I smell it. I shouldn’t need to do that again. Here, help me up.” Barton reached out his hand and helped his friend up off the ground.
The closer they got to the docks Daxton took slow, deliberate, breaths. This was his attempt at forcing his insides to get used to the smell so he could keep the promise he made that he wouldn’t get sick again. The sounds of people hard at work were heard over the waves lapping up all along the shoreline. Daxton marveled at the vast expanse of the open waters but averted his eyes when the waves came into view and brought back a queasy feeling.
“If I remember correctly, the man we seek can be found at the other end over there.” Barton pointed towards a ship in the distance. Daxton had to stand on tip toe to see it hidden behind several others that were in the way. “I do not think I have ever seen these many ships here at one time,” Barton remarked, but Daxton ignored him as he seemed almost drawn to the ship that had large smoke stacks rising from it. As he tried to make his way to it, he was constantly shoved and yelled at for not watching where he was going. “Daxton, wait.” Barton managed to grab a hold of Daxton’s shirt sleeve and stop him.
“What is it?”
“Look around,” Barton said. The two boys looked from one side to the other, but Daxton was oblivious to what his friend was trying to point out until a man bumped into him from behind.
“Excuse me, son.” Daxton looked the man over once and knew right away he was a member of the royal army. Barton tried to hide his face, but it was too late, the man had seen him. “Aren’t you General Corwinn’s son?”
“No, I am afraid you have got me confused with someone else.” Barton hooked his arm around Daxton’s and dragged him further inland, away from the docks. He tried to resist but Barton, for the first time, was too strong for him and overpowered him every step of the way.
“Let go of me. What is wrong with you? So, what if that man recognized you?” Once they were a safe distance away from the army ships Daxton twisted his arm to break free from Barton, who released his hold.
“Hello dearie, I have been expecting you.” A voice, low and raspy, whispered to them from behind a nearby tree. It gave both Daxton and Barton a chill down their spine as they turned slowly to find a hideous looking hag peeking at them. She was hunched over, with a hump back, although the cloak she wore looked like it had a hand in it, from the weight. It was made of an expensive material Barton recognized. His father had a cloak made of a similar fabric. Except, the hag was so hunched over, hers dragged along the ground and its frayed edges showed how long she must’ve owned it. She wore the hood of her cloak up to cover her face, but in the early morning sun that was difficult to do. Her face was wrinkled and sagging, but it was her clear blue eyes that made Daxton feel it was safe to approach and speak to her.
“Who me?” Daxton asked pointing at himself as he walked slowly towards her.
“Do not be afraid,” she answered, stepping out from the shadow of the tree. “I trust you are here because of my note?”
Daxton stopped dead in his tracks. How could she know about the note? Could this be Adelaide? Could this hag be his mother? But his thoughts would not burst forth from his lips. He had so many questions swirling around in his head he was struck silent.
“Daxton, what note does she speak of?” In his disbelief and confusion Daxton did not hear his friend as he repeated the question over and over again.
“I suppose you have some questions for me?” the hag asked, taking a seat on a nearby barrel.
“You suppose I have some questions for you? How could you? I mean, why would you?” The questions came out too quickly and sounded jumbled. None of them making any sense.
Barton grabbed Daxton by the shoulders and turned him away from the hag to face him. “Daxton snap out of it. What is this note?”
“My birth mother left me this.” Daxton pulled the note from his pocket and handed it to Barton who took it and opened it, even more confused than before.
“I do not understand…”
“She left me the day I was born.” He then pointed at the hag accusingly. “She’s my mother.” Barton’s jaw dropped and the hag began to laugh so hard she started to choke. “it is not funny. How dare you laugh?”
“I’m laughing because I’m not your mother, you halfwit. Yes, it’s true, I wrote that note. I left you on the doorstep of the family who are now your parents. But that was only because…” She paused to catch her breath fully and consider her next words very carefully. “As you can see by my appearance I could not be expected to care for an infant. You see, you were left on my door. I did what I thought would be best for you at the time.”
“You are not my mother?” The hag shook her head. “That is a relief.” She scowled at him. “No offense, but I cannot think of anything worse than being abandoned by a hag.”
“How about if your mother were a pirate?” Barton asked.
“Do not even jest about that. I wouldn’t wish a pirate for a parent on my worst enemy.” The hag looked at him with disappointment in her eyes. “What?”
“Why do you hate pirates so much?”
“Because of what they did to my family,” Barton replied, stepping in front of his friend. “And we do not take kindly to pirate-lovers.”
“I see.” The hag raised her eyebrows, deep in thought at how best to handle this unexpected news. “No matter. I am sure destiny will sort it all out in the end. But now that you’re finally here I need you to do something for me.”
“Do you mean you wrote that cryptic note just so I could come down here eighteen years later to do something for you?” Anger appeared on Daxton’s face as his hands balled into fists. “No, not till you tell me something that can help me find my mother.”
The hag was afraid something like this might happened once he reached a certain age. He exhibited the same stubbornness and headstrong attitude as his mother. But if she ever hoped to get him to steal what she needed to break her from this blasted curse, which has kept her looking like a hag for nearly two decades, she realized she had to give him something. But what?
Nelle smiled at him mischievously. “I know where you can find the maker of that compass you carry in your right-hand pocket. Isn’t that what brought you here?”