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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After a long day of endless sword fighting where they practiced defense more than offense, they were all exhausted. Food, in the form of mutton, bread, and water, was provided in small supply. Most of them took their meager offerings back to their tents where they collapsed, barely able to finish what was on their plate. Daxton and Jynx walked together back to their tent.
“Wasn’t today great? I learned so much from that guard. I forget his name, but he—.”
“Stop. Do you ever have low energy? Did you forget this morning when you could’ve been killed because of that same guard you now speak so highly of?” They each sat back on their makeshift beds and ate their food.
“The general wouldn’t kill me. He needs me. He needs all of us to fight for the king, remember? We would be no good to him dead. Besides, I could have regained my footing if you hadn’t decided to play the hero and nearly get yourself killed. How did you learn to do that anyway?” He already finished what was on his plate and eyed Daxton’s, who put his plate to the side after pushing its contents around with the spoon.
“Take it.” No sooner did the words come out of his mouth did Jynx leap across the room and snatch his plate, taking it back to his side as he listened to Daxton continue. “I did not do anything special. I just wanted to teach him a lesson. He cheated. I hate cheaters.”
“Yeah, well, next time I can take care of myself.” Daxton rolled his eyes at the youthful exuberance and hoped he was not that way at his age.
Through their tent, he could see the fire that was started a few yards from theirs, for the men who wanted to sit and talk together, extinguished. He knew this meant no one was about and he was safe to take out his compass which he still carried on his. He decided now was a good a time as any to inspect every inch of it more closely and see if there may be some sort of markings on it, like the sword, that he did not notice before. He tried to use his hands to hide it as he looked but it was no use, Jynx saw it right away, and threw down the plate he cleaned of food.
“Where did you get that?” He asked, pointing his grease stained fingers at it. Daxton pulled it closer to himself and away from Jynx.
“None of your concern.” He looked at it again and wished his friend Barton was there. Since he received the compass, he never really had a chance to tell him how he felt He hadn’t been able to tell anyone what it meant to discover the family who raised you was never his to begin with. He was abandoned then and he felt abandoned now, sitting with this eager child. “It belonged to my mother.”
“Really? And she gave it to you before you came here? What an odd gift.”
“No, she doesn’t know I am here. She doesn’t know where I am or who I am. At least, I do not think she does…” His voice trailed off. He wanted to talk about how he felt but he could feel the words getting stuck in his throat as he tried to speak. He wasn’t ready and he didn’t know if he would ever be ready.
“I am sorry. Is that why you are here?” Daxton shot him a look of confusion at his question.
“What do you mean?”
“I assume you tried to run away. You wouldn’t say so before, probably because you weren’t sure if you could trust me? that is okay, I get that a lot. But now that we’re friends you can tell me the truth. You were trying to run away and that is why you are here. Were you running from them or towards her?” He looked at the compass Daxton clutched to his heart. For the first time since he’s known Jynx he sounded mature for his age.
“Both, I think. I need to find her. She’s been in my dreams, I think.” He had so much he wanted to say to help him sort out what his purpose was and why he ran away, why he was there, and where he intended to go next, but the thoughts came faster than his mouth could speak them. He paused and took several breaths to try and give his mind time to catch up. “If I could just get my bow, I know I can fight my way out of here and find her.”
“How? You barely were able to best the general and I am sure his men fight as good if not better than he does. He’s not exactly fit for his age or station.” Daxton knew what he said was true, but he could see no other way. And then he remembered…
“There is another way, but it involves helping a witch steal something and I think that plan is even crazier than my own.”
“A witch? My mother said never trust witches. They’ll sooner steal your manhood than help you in any way.” Jynx folded his arms as if he just spoke the definitive answer on witches and it made Daxton smile to see his childish behavior come back.
“Have you ever even met a witch?”
“No, but my ma says a witch is what nearly broke our family apart. She was the prettiest woman in the entire village. Men would come from miles around just to be near her and would risk their lives to do whatever she asked them to. My father tried to leave us thinking this witch was going to run off with him.”
“A pretty witch? I thought witches were old and grey with warts on their faces. Like a hag?”
Jynx scoffed at Daxton’s assumption about witches. “Have you ever met a witch? Nelle is supposed to be—.” He stopped short when Daxton spit out the water he started to drink.
“Did you just say Nelle?”
“Yeah, do you know her?” Daxton started to laugh, a sound he hadn’t heard himself make in a while. He laughed not because Nelle looked like a hag but because until hearing this story from Jynx he did not believe she was a witch or that she could possibly help him. But now he knew it had to at least be partly true. Now he knew he had to not only help her but to do so he needed to retrieve his bow, tonight.
Daxton waited until Jynx fell asleep, mostly from exhaustion at his nonstop talking. When his loud snoring started was when he knew he could move about and not be heard. He crept to the flap in their tent and peeked out. Like the previous night, he could see no one milling about. He walked along the tents towards where he last saw his bow and arrows. He knew the wagon wouldn’t be there but hoped there would be a trail he could follow to where it was taken. Where the wagon used to be was out in the open and he looked up to find guards facing away from the castle grounds. There were torches lit every few feet, but they were too high off the ground to cast his shadow as he crept along the wall of the castle. He crouched down and felt the dirt at his feet, his fingers tracing where the wheel of the wagon once stood. He focused his eyes on the spot and was able to see the trail faintly by the moonlight. It was hidden behind some clouds overhead, but it provided just enough light for him to follow it to a large shed made of stone.
He walked around its perimeter still surprised at the lack of guards even at this location. He assumed he’d find not just his bow but other weaponry inside and would expect to find at least one guard posted here. He waited a reasonable amount of time in a darkened corner around the back of it where he found an open window, just in case a guard walked by every hour. Not a sound or a soul in sight he grabbed the ledge of the window and hoisted himself up. He climbed down into the shed and was instantly attacked from behind.
A hand covered his mouth while another pair of hands grabbed his legs. He could feel rope being tied around them as he squirmed.
“Wait, stop.” He heard a familiar voice say to the person at his feet as he was lowered to the ground rather gruffly. “What are you doing here?” It was Nelle, which meant the person attempting to tie his legs was Barton. The two friends hugged immediately, thrilled to finally be able to do so and speak with each other.
“What am I doing here? What are you two doing here? What if you got caught?”
“No time to explain. We just came for the sword.”
“Which sword? Mine?” Their silence answered his question. “What do you need my sword for? I thought you wanted the King’s Bow?”
“it is too complicated to explain right now, just know we have a plan for how to get the Bow. We just need you to stay alive till then and you cannot do that if you are here. Why are you here?” Nelle asked, truly concerned. “Shouldn’t you be guarded or something?”
“I know, right? I thought the same thing, but I was careful. No one is following me.” No sooner did he say those words did a thud sound come from the window he dropped from earlier. Out of the darkness crept Jynx.
“Not followed, huh? Then who is that?”
“You have got to get out of here. I heard two guards coming this way complaining about having to check the inventory. General Corwinn’s orders. I think one of them is that mean one, Krieger.”
“Damn it,” Nelle said, annoyed that her scheme was not going as planned. She turned to Barton, “sorry son, but we’re going to have to do the plan a little early.”
“No, wait,” he said, trying to back away from her but was stopped by the crate of weapons behind him. She stepped forward and gave him a right hook that knocked him out cold.
“Get back to your tent boy.” Jynx was never one to hit a lady, even if that lady looked like a hideous hag, so he did as she asked and quickly climbed back out the window. Daxton tried to wake his friend up by slapping him in the face, but it was not working.
“Why did you do that?” Ignoring his question, Nelle rummaged through the crates around her till she found the sword she was looking for as well as Daxton’s bow and arrows. She handed them to him, and he took possession of them quickly.
“You caught him trying to steal from the king.”
“What?”
The sound of two guards unlocking and opening the doors to the shed distracted Daxton long enough or Nelle to climb out the window with his sword in hand. A torch light bounced on the walls of the shed as they approached Daxton crouched down over his best friend.
“What have we here?” Krieger asked, a menacing grin on his face.
“I caught him trying to steal from the king,” Daxton repeated.
“Krieger isn’t that General Corwinn’s son?” the other guard asked. Krieger remained as he thought about what he should do. He knew when he watched Daxton nearly shoot an arrow into the general’s thigh that he would be trouble. He also was aware of the friendship between these two boys and found it hard to believe Daxton would knock his friend out cold in the name of the king. Nothing here seemed right, but he was not in good graces with the general and his father, the former General Krieger, would not be pleased if his son was forever removed from the royal army. It would bring shame to his family that he could never undo.
“Let’s take them to the general and let him decide what should become of them.” Krieger grabbed Daxton and left Barton to be carried over the shoulder of the other guard. Before they left the shed Krieger took the bow and arrows and tossed them back onto a crate, locking them away again. Daxton slumped his shoulders feeling defeated. He knew Nelle had a plan and most likely Barton knew what that plan was, but he was out cold so from here on out he had to wing it.
He was marched inside the castle, his first time ever inside of one, and he was awe struck by how much larger it looked on the inside with its high ceilings and wide-open space. Its lack of any furniture or adornments on the walls besides the flags of Gaspar and the king added to its spaciousness. They walked up stairs to another floor and down a long corridor where they finally stopped at an ornate door that had two guards posted outside. They made to stop them with their spears crossing each other in front of the door until they saw Krieger and parted, allowing him to knock loudly.
“Enter.” Krieger opened the door to find a large bed at one side of the room and at the other, General Corwinn seated at a desk looking over several maps of the sea. There was one on top of all the others which he scribbled several crosses and lines and markings all over it, rendering it indecipherable. “What is the meaning of this? Disturbing me at this hour of the night, Krieger.”
“general, I found this one in the weapons room, standing over your son. He claims to have knocked him out cold after catching him trying to steal—.”
“Silence!” General Corwinn stood from his desk and walked around it, never taking his eyes from his son who was still draped over the guard’s shoulder. “For goodness sakes put his down there.” He pointed to a chair opposite his desk and the guard did as he was instructed. Barton’s head fell to one side, still out cold. The general took a large jug of water he had on his desk and tossed its contents into his son’s face.
“Damn it, Nelle, I thought I told you never to do that…again…” Fully awake now he stopped speaking when he saw his father standing before him.
“What did you just say?” Barton was struck silent with fear. He was not expecting to see his father, not yet anyway, nor was he supposed to ever say her name to his father. He knew he had made a grave mistake and he was not sure how to get out of it.
“Hello, father.” He flinched as his father raised the empty jug he held tightly in his hand, afraid he would smash it into his face, but he did not. He threw it across the room, and it broke into pieces as it met with the wall.
“Get out both of you,” General Corwinn said to Krieger and the guard.
“But general—.”
“Do you dare question me again?” Krieger clenched his fist tightly. One day soon he would have his opportunity to do what he wanted to General Corwinn. It was not tonight, with too many around who probably hated him just as much as they hated the general. He’d have to wait a little while longer. He motioned to the guard to follow him and they left, slamming the door behind them.
“Father, let me explain—.”
“Don’t you ever say that name ever again, do you hear me?” Barton had never seen his father like this before. He seemed crazed with both fear and anger. “Nod your head if you understand what I am telling you.” Barton nodded. “And you, what part are you playing in all of this, for I do not believe for one moment you hit him.”
“But he did father.”
“Quiet, I’ll get to you in a minute.” General Corwinn looked back to Daxton waiting for an answer.
“I did hit him, sir. I mean, general. But I did not know it was him when I did it. I saw a shadow sneak past my tent, and I followed it. I watched him climb into the shed through the window and I did the same. I hit him when I saw my…I mean your bow and arrows in his arms, before he escaped. That was when your men found me.” The story came out so effortlessly Barton almost believed his story.
The general grew solemn as he thought long and hard what to do about them. He had the Paragon watching his every move and it was pure luck this happened at this hour, the only time he was truly alone. But it was as is the Paragon was in his mind and whenever something of importance happened or was even about to happen, he’d appear out of nowhere. He knew he had to act fast if he hoped to save the life of his son and his friend.
He was not a good man. Some who remember him from the past would even say he was an evil man, but by his son he hoped to make up for his past sins. He did not wish him to follow in his footsteps and secretly was glad his son was not a fighter. He pretended to look for him and was truly surprised to find him carried into his office. He couldn’t very well let him escape, what would his men think? No, he had to keep him there and train him like everyone else.
“Let’s say I believe your story. That still doesn’t explain why you felt the need to sneak into the king’s castle and steal a bow from his weapons? You have your own bow. So, I ask you again, son, why are you here? I only wish to help you, but you must trust me.”
Barton never understood his father. He was spurned by the royal army and labeled a coward yet here he stood, back in their clan, and proud of it. He thought his father wanted him to follow in his footsteps, yet whenever he’d go to him with sword in hand, asking for lessons, his father would grow angry, short tempered, and their lesson would end soon after it began. What was it his father wanted from him? Even now, as he watched his father, he saw a man who looked defeated and weak. Not unlike the man he watched grow more broken and bitter during his childhood.
“We need the King’s Bow.”
“NO!” Daxton shouted too late. Barton told probably the one man who could ruin their plans and he couldn’t undo it.
“I think you mean Nelle needs it?” Daxton was surprised the general knew who Nelle was and that she was the one behind needing the bow. Perhaps he would turn out to be helpful? Barton nodded to his father’s question. “Okay, how can I help?”
Before anyone could answer the door burst open and in strode the man from earlier, the Paragon. Daxton grew fearful of him as he walked by, but he could not explain why. The compass he had in his pocket began to grow hot as the Paragon got nearer to him. He couldn’t reach into his pocket and take it out for fear they’d see it. He pretended to show his fear outwardly and backed away, feeling the compass cool with every step he took. Barton and General Corwinn eyed him curiously, then brought their attention back to the Paragon.
“What is the meaning of this? Why was I not informed of an intruder?”
“It was only my son and as you can see, I am handling it?”
The Paragon scoffed at General Corwinn’s statement. “When have you ever handled anything? What was your son caught doing? Cowering someplace I suppose. Like father, like son?” The general clenched his fists in anger but knew better than to react, as did Daxton. Barton, on the other hand, did not know this and he leapt from his chair in a feeble attempt to strike the Paragon.
He held out one arm, his hand open, pushing his palm towards Barton who felt a rush of air carry him backwards against the wall near Daxton. He fell to the ground, the wind knocked out of him as he grabbed his chest in pain. Daxton knelt beside his friend and helped him stand.
“I see he’s stupid like his father as well. Hasn’t anyone ever taught you never to underestimate your enemy.” Barton did recognize the saying and he wondered for a moment how likely it was for that exact saying to be uttered by two different people? Perhaps they were taught by the same person at one point in their lives since they both used some form of magic?
“Let the boys go. They are harmless. We have more important things to attend to. I have it on good authority the witch may be planning something.” Barton couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His father, the man he thought he could trust, was about to betray him? He made to attack his father now, but Daxton placed his hand on his friends’ shoulder to stop him.
“How did you come about this information?”
“Send them away and I’ll tell you all I know so far.” The Paragon did not take long to agree with General Corwinn’s suggestion, and he waved them both away. They left the general’s chambers quickly, walking right into the two guards who were still standing on either side of the doorway with their spears.
“I am the general’s son,” Barton replied, the guards paying them no mind. “We’re just going back out to our…uhm…”
“Tents,” Daxton whispered under his breath.
“Our what?” Barton asked loudly, this time getting the attention of the guards who looked at each other wondering whether or not they should do something about these two. “Tents? Is that where you are being held— Ouch!”
Daxton elbowed his friend to shut him up as he smiled as innocently as possible to the two guards, dragging Barton out of their sight. “Would you shut up; I am trying to save your life. They do not care who your father is.”
“At the moment, I wish he was not my father.” The two of them snuck back outside and Daxton took him to his tent to meet his roommate who appeared to have not been excited enough at what happened to stay awake. He found him as he left him earlier; snoring loudly.