Daxton - Episode 23
The 5th Compass | Tales of Stonehaven [3,509 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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Daxton took several steps back from General Corwinn, whom upon entering the house had to turn sideways to get through the front door. Daxton turned to see his mother no longer sat at the kitchen table. Instead, he watched in disbelief as she passed through the back door and closed it shut. She did not want to witness her son being dragged away.
“Mom…” Daxton tried to scream but the word got stuck in his throat. He remembered the safety he once felt in her arms when he was a young boy and longed for that feeling now. He tried to run through the backdoor and into her arms, but was too late, two men who were with General Corwinn were already on either side of him and grabbed him before he could even take a step.
“Where’s my son?” General Corwinn asked. He stepped so close to Daxton’s face the smell of alcohol permeated his nostrils and he had to fight the urge to regurgitate. The general started looking about the house for his son, but it was rather small and there weren’t many places to search, bring him back to face Daxton. He seethed and the odor hit him once more, only this time he could not hold down his nausea any longer and he brought forth the food he had eaten earlier in the day. The general stepped back horrified. “Get him out of here!”
The two men held Daxton up so firmly his feet dragged on the ground as they carried him out the front door and towards their wagon, nearly full of men. His hands were bound with rope tightly behind his back and pushed into the back of wagon. One of the men saw he was about to fall on his shoulder and stuck his foot out, reaching it across to the bench on the other side, narrowly catching Daxton, whose midsection collided with the man’s leg. He groaned in pain at his weight but forced a smile when Daxton offered up his thanks as he managed to get to his feet and sit on the bench where the man’s foot had been.
He craned his head to try and look towards the back of his house. In the distance, he could see the silhouette of his mother, her back to the wagon. He wanted to call out to her, but the words just wouldn’t come.
He tried to sit up straight on the bench already occupied by three other men all trying to hide their faces. Two were of an age older than Daxton’s father and the other looked to be around his own age though he’d never seen him before.
“Foolish boy. Thinking he can run from the royal army.” A man sitting on the opposite side of the wagon spoke, spitting at the feet of Daxton who flinched as he tucked his feet under the bench. Before he could respond that he was just as foolish considering where he sat, the wagon swayed slightly as the driver mounted. He heard the whip crack the horse as it pulled them along. The man who helped him earlier stuck his chin out, signaling to Daxton that he should turn around. When he did so he saw his mother walk slowly towards the front of their house, a tear rolling down her cheek. He frowned with confusion at her sudden expression of sorrow. Why didn’t she try to stop them when the guards first came? Instead, she walked out on him when he needed her. Was she trying to make him feel sorry for her! He returned her tears with a cold and blank stare on his face before he faced forwards once more.
The wagon bounced from side to side and the bench he sat on was not very comfortable, so he constantly fidgeted about in his seat. “Would you stop moving. If it isn’t bad enough we have to be stuck in here for everyone in town to see who the cowards are, you have to keep bumping into me with your bony elbows.” The boy who sat next to Daxton, now that he spoke, sounded much younger than he looked.
“Why are you here? you are not nearly of age yet.” The boy looked away from Daxton. “Tell them and they will release you.”
At the mention of being released the boy looked back at Daxton with daggers in his eyes. “do not you dare. My family needs me to fight. I am all they have left to survive this drought. Those who fight for the royal army get paid handsomely, or did you not know that. My father told them I was small for my age but that I had just turned seventeen. So just do me a favor and be quiet.”
“Your father turned you over to them? My father would never—,” he started to say then stopped. How did they know where to find him so quickly? The army was headed in his direction, but he thought he timed it just right for an easy escape. They would’ve visited at least two neighboring houses, both of which had men far older than Daxton who they’d need to get. Unless, they already joined? And how would the army know that? No, they were told to go directly to the house and make haste before a young and able-bodied young man escaped their grasp. Would his father have turned him in, or his mother have let it happen as it did? Then he remembered that he wasn’t really their son, left on their doorstep with expectations that they would care for him. Perhaps they were glad to finally be rid of him.
These thoughts silenced him for the remainder of their journey on the wagon which made three more stops, filling with four more men, before it got back on the main road. The wagon stopped twice along the way to allow the men to relieve themselves in the bushes. It was on second stop when one of the captive men tried to make a run for it through the trees. Daxton watched out the corner of his eye as the man ran for his life. Then he saw a member of the royal army pull Daxton’s bow from an assortment of weapons they had carried on horseback and string a bow. He pulled it back and loosed it, catching the man right between his shoulder blades. He fell forwards instantly.
Before Daxton could stop himself, he shouted, “NO!” at the top of his lungs. It was so loud birds in nearby trees flew out of them into the air which hung silent for several moments. The men from the royal army all went over to the one who held the bow and congratulated him, while the prisoners stood in shock. Some looked at the unmoved body of the one who tried to get away while the others stared at Daxton, wondering if he knew the man who was just killed. He did not know him, of course, but he now felt like he did. He felt he owed the man a debt he could no longer repay. His bow was responsible for his senseless death. One that could’ve been prevented had he run faster, had his father not turned him over to the authorities and given him a chance to escape. So many different way’s this could have gone differently for the man who lay dead in the grass. There would forever be blood on his hands, and he looked with hatred in his eyes at the guard who put back the bow as if he did nothing wrong.
“Everyone back in the wagon! Krieger, come here!” The guard who killed in cold blood walked up to General Corwinn and saluted before standing at attention. Daxton strained to hear their conversation as he was led in single file back into the wagon. “I brought you here as a favor to your father. Do not make me regret it. That was a foolish thing you did. He could have been an asset to us. Next time shoot them in the arm or the leg. An injured man is far better suited to our needs than a dead one. Now, go fetch the arrow and bury him.”
Krieger was the spitting image of his father and in personality he was no different. He thought with his anger and not with his head or even his heart. His father taught him everything he knew about the skill of fighting but nothing of the art of holding back. When to strike and how much force to use was something he did not know. Also, knowing when to speak and when to hold your tongue. “Bury him? That coward?”
General Corwinn backhanded Krieger in front of everyone and the looks he received stung more than the slap itself. “do not you dare question an order I give you. Go over there and bury that man. Then you may walk back to the castle. And in that time, I suggest you think about how you intend to remain in this army and survive if you cannot think before you speak.” With his last words, he jabbed two fingers into Krieger’s temple for emphasis then grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him towards the man he killed.
Daxton kept his eyes on Krieger for as long as he could and watched him as he took a shovel, given to him by one of the other men, and used it to break into the ground. It was not until they were completely out of his line of vision that he stopped his cold, dark, stare.
“Did you know the man?” the boy who remained sitting next to him asked.
“No, I knew the bow,” Daxton managed to say. The first words he was able to speak without his voice choking. He was angry and he clenched his fists opened and closed the entire time. The boy shifted away from his slightly and the rest of the men who remained averted their eyes.
The sun started to set before the wagon reached the gate to the castle. Daxton heard a lot of shuffling feet and keys jingling in the background, but the sun was hidden behind some clouds and it made it difficult for him to see much of anything.
“Psst.” Daxton perked up as he thought he heard something. The men did as well as they started to look around for the source of the voice. He gave them another dirty look and they stopped right away. A small pebble managed to hit Daxton right in the back of his head and he had to suppress showing any signs of annoyance. “Behind you.” A voice which he recognized instantly as belonging to Barton, whispered from just outside where he sat in the wagon. “do not turn around. I just wanted you to know I am with Nelle and we’ve got a plan.”
“Who?” Daxton managed to say without anyone noticing as the wagon lurched forwards once more.
“The hag,” Barton whispered back loudly. “Ouch!” Nelle, who was right beside him the whole time slapped him in the back of his head. “What?”
“Stop calling me the hag. You almost got us caught just now. Let’s get out of here. I hate this place.” Nelle and Barton walked back into the forest that surrounded the castle, to an abandoned shack near a small creek.
“How do you always manage to find places like this?” Barton asked, scooping his hands in the creek and splashing water on his face.
“it is a gift. Being someone who has had to learn how to stay in the shadows so I do not offend or alarm anyone, you’d be surprised what you can find hidden away in some dark corner. What you find when you look hard enough just might surprise you.”
Barton rolled his eyes at Nelle. She had many sayings she imparted on him ever since Daxton abandoned him at the tree stump and he regretted his decision to stay behind ever since.
“Remind me again why it is a bad idea for me to just turn myself in and join the royal army? Wouldn’t I be more help to Daxton from the inside than out here with you?”
“Getting tired of me already? All in due course Barton. You will turn yourself in when the time is right. That time is not now. Now, we must hang back and wait. If I know the king, he’ll want to make a show of his idea to raise an army by force. When he does, is when you will rise,” at these words Barton stood and puffed out his chest, finally she recognized he was an asset, “and make a fool of yourself.” He deflated instantly.
“You sure know how to make a man feel special.” Nelle smiled at Barton and the thoughts of her life before, nearly two decades ago, when she really did have a way with men. With just a touch of her hand or a smile from her lips she could make any man do anything for her. Now, she couldn’t get a man to step out of her way when she walked. Men hated to be near her, and she hated herself for not being strong enough to undo what the Paragon did to her.
The Paragon! It had been several days since she allowed herself to think about him and how sweet revenge would be.
She had to put many plans in place for when Daxton turned eighteen, such as planting that recurring dream in his subconscious. She hoped he would retain the memory of it much sooner, so she could’ve put this plan in motion a long time ago. But she learned with patience comes great reward. And the reward of finally putting an end to the Paragon would be one she could not allow herself to risk by moving hastily.
“Come along young man. We must rest, for tomorrow we begin our training.”
“We? Training?” Barton scoffed at her words. “And what training do you hope to impart upon me? I am a young man; you are an old h—.” Before he could finish his sentence, she crouched and spun, sticking her leg out to catch his. He fell onto his back, his head banged into the dirt.
“This is what I can teach you. To pay attention and know your enemy. I may be some old hag but do not always trust what you see with your eyes young Barton. Your eyes will become your worst enemy in the end if you do.” She stuck her hand out to him and for the first time since he’s met her, Barton had deep respect for her. He took her hand and she hoisted him up to his feet with one pull.
He could not believe her strength and the grip she had on his hand as he tried to let go. For good measure, she pulled his body towards her and with one quick motion flipped him onto his back once more, then stepped over his body.
“Let this be the first lesson of many more to come.”
She walked into the shack and lit a lamp on the table just inside as Barton remained on the ground breathing heavily. His entire back and his limbs burned, but not from pain, from the energy that coursed through her and now coursed through his body.
“What a woman.” He smiled and laughed to himself at the notion of being taught how to fight by someone as skilled as she was. It was a while before he stood up, his knees wobbly from the energy she gave him. He made it into the shack and found she was already asleep on a bed of hay in the far corner of the room. He blew out the candle on the table and sat near her but didn’t sleep.
The next morning Nelle found Barton curled up into a ball next to her. She got up and went to the stream with a bucket she found just outside of the shack. She filled it with water, laughing on the inside at what she had intended to do. She heard a branch breaking somewhere on the other side of the creek which stopped her from filling the bucket up as much as she had intended. Without standing she gripped the half-filled bucket in both of her hands and quickly tossed it backwards over her shoulder.
Turning she found Barton sputtering and choking up some of the water which landed in his open mouth. He stood behind her about to attack her by surprise, but she caught him first. She walked up to him, still trying to get his composure and placed the bucket on his head.
“Lesson number two, never underestimate your enemy. You make too much noise when you walk. What are you an ogre?”
He removed the bucket from his head, his hair and shirt sopping wet. “I made no such noise. You used your magic to know I was behind you.”
“I am not yet strong enough for that. I heard you because your movement caused an animal on the other side of the creek to move. It would not have if you had not made your presence known to it. When moving you must be aware of not just your feet but that of others as well.”
He was in awe of all that she knew. “How did you learn all of this? Were you some warrior in a previous life?”
“No, nothing like that. I learned from my father and from the many men who I have… gotten to know over the years.”
Barton could tell by the way she looked away from him when she mentioned the many men in her life exactly what she meant, and he chose not to press her further on it.
“What will you teach me now? I am an eager student, ready to learn.”
“For today’s lesson, you will join me in procuring an item that once belonged to me. I gave it away and now we must, borrow it,” she said, growing wide with excitement. “Do not look so pleased. This item is locating just inside the castle walls, in the soldier’s quarters. Normally, I’d suggest we steal in the cover of darkness, but the men will be out training the others. No one will be there. It will be the perfect time and the perfect opportunity to see how you’ll do under pressure.” She smiled and winked at him. Hearing they would be sneaking into the castle did not sound so exciting to him anymore. He did not return her smile.
They walked along the perimeter of the castle walls made of stone. It stood so high not even two men, with one standing on the others back, could touch the top of the wall. They would have to find another way inside. It did not take them long to find a way inside.
About a mile and a half around the side from the main entrance onto the castle grounds was another entrance. This was where food trucks and other men who were not worthy to enter through the front would go. As luck would have it there was a line of carts all waiting to be allowed egress. Without saying a word, Nelle sprinted back into the trees towards the row of carts, with Barton following behind her, both crouched down low. They approached the last cart full of hay and as stealthily as they both could they stepped onto it, careful not to make it move too much as they laid down on top and began to toss hay along the sides on top of themselves. As usual, Barton was seen by a bird in a tree nearby that flew away, knocked leaves off a branch, which caught the attention of the man who was driving the cart. He looked down to see just their heads sticking out from the hay.
“Get out of there this instant,” he whispered at them.
“Hey, you, move it along.” One of the guards pointed to the driver of the cart of hay. He looked forwards and slapped the reigns he held down onto his two horses and they marched along.
“Whatever you do, don’t make a sound. If I get caught smuggling in—,” he stopped short as his cart was in full view of the guards.
“Oh, Daniel, it is just you. The king’s been expecting you. He says his horses have been acting up and he thinks it is because the last man he bought hay from was not a reputable as you. I for one am glad to see you are well again and back to work. I am sure the king will be pleased as well.”
The cart full of hay continued to move and through tiny slits both Nelle and Barton made for themselves in the back they saw the top of the gate as they passed under it and inside the castle walls.