Daxton - Episode 3

The 5th Compass | Tales of Stonehaven [2,333 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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PREVIOUSLY…

Captain Silverblade is pissed and about to destroy the ship attacking her. But before she delivers Captain Hinde to his death he delivers a message she never thought she’d hear ever again; the Paragan is awake and coming for her.

Traix climbed down a nearby ladder on the opposite side of the ship where no one would see him. When he entered the choppy waters, he could feel a body, mangled beyond recognition, floating near the surface. He gave himself a few moments for his gag reflexes to temper themselves before he grabbed ahold of the body and kicked his feet slowly, trying not to catch the attention of the sharks nearby. Together, Traix and the corpse, had the appearance of two dead men floating down the channel. Salt water mixed with the blood of his fallen brothers, including that of the man whose torso he grabbed, seeped in and out of his mouth. He tried helplessly to keep as much of the rancid water out of his mouth, but he valued breathing more, and suffered through it. The body he held tightly began to take on the temperature of the water, cold, and his fingers got slippery. He struggled not to let go.

The pirates could see body parts on the surface of the water, but the carnage of sharks searching for fresher meat was too much even for them. They avoided looking too closely at the water as much as possible while they boarded the enemy ship. None of them found it odd, or worth investigating, the two bodies, one of which was remarkably intact bobbing in the water, moving against the current. And Traix, member of the royal army, was glad of that.

“Where are we, brother?” he asked the corpse. One of its legs was completely ripped away and he did not dare check, but he wagered the arms were missing as well. He pondered why the sharks would leave what he perceived to be the meatiest part of the human body, the torso, behind? But as he could just about make out land not too far from his current destination, he cared very little for their actions and appreciated the opportunity afforded him to escape. However, out the corner of his eye he saw a ship waving a pirate flag. They were not headed for him, but their heading would take them dangerously close enough to notice whether what was in the water was dead or alive. He took a deep breath and changed his hold on the floating body from his side to just below, then plunged his head underwater and remained under water, holding the body and his breath for dear life. As luck would have it the ship passed him at a rather quick pace, making it difficult for them to take notice of him or his mangled companion. Not willing to risk getting caught, he held out as long as he possibly could before he opened his eyes underwater and came face to eyeball with the body he continued to use as a decoy. He screamed, letting a rush of water not his mouth. He erupted to the surface, coughing and gagging, frantically looking around but there was no ship or sharks. Nothing but the open water. With newfound vigor, his feet paddled even harder.

Traix joined King Rowan’s royal army to provide a steady wage for his family. He did not do it out of any sense of loyalty or even out of honor, so when he witnessed fellow brothers jumping overboard, he saw no good reason not to follow. True, there were deadly sharks below, but to stay on the ship would mean certain death as well. By the time the sharks started devouring those who jumped before him he had made up his mind and instead of jumping in as they did, he climbed down. His decision afforded him the best chance of survival. While the sharks busied themselves eating the noisemakers, Traix entered the water calmly and quietly, then waited for the perfect moment to move through the water undetected. This accounted for why he was miles from shore and safety, while every one of the men he traveled with that morning would all but perished.

On King Rowan’s ship, its captain, Hinde, was busy devising a scheme to apprehend the illusive Silverblade. He had delusions of being the first man to capture her and could not be bothered with those men who had decided to abandon ship. Traix knew this mission was insurmountable when he joined. Like all the other men, he’d heard of the many failed attempts King Rowan had made in the past to force Captain Silverblade’s surrender. And like all those men, Traix wanted to believe the king would give in to her demands and spare the lives of men who swear their allegiance to him. He knew he was wrong on all counts when he heard a familiar battle cry, that of Captain Hinde, just before he hit the water. The sound of his faint screams as sharks consumed him told Traix he made the right decision and regretted nothing as he continued to swim to shore.

Like a mirage, the shoreline remained just out of his reach for what seemed like forever. It was only mid-day when he finally saw in the distance the landmark that would prove to him, he was not imagining things; the Serpents Head. It was a tavern situated near the docks where all seafaring men could find drink and fellow fishermen whenever they came to port there. The sign was a translucent green that any ship at sea or man on foot could see. When he feasted his eyes upon the wooden sign swinging against the wind, shimmering in the distance, he knew he was not only free from danger but also free from those flesh-eating sharks. The closer he got to shore the more torturous it became on his arms to push the body out in front of him any longer, and his legs began to give out. He gave up and let the body go. As it drifted away, he wished he knew who had just saved his life so he could at least pay his respects to the family. But the water around him began to get colder the closer he got to shore, and all his mind told him to do was get to shore immediately.

He felt the sand beneath his feet as he planted them as he took slow and deliberate steps towards dry land. His clothes clung to his body and his breathing came fast and hard as he dropped to his knees, crawling the rest of the way. The docks just above his head, held up by spokes sticking out of the sand, teemed with people milling about. There were a few boats docked further down the coastline, but where he emerged there was just an empty dock, which he used for cover as he walked under it. He did not wish to be seen by anyone just yet and collapsed, unable to take any more steps. The waves grazed the edge of his boots every few seconds, but he didn’t budge.

He needed to catch his breath before deciding what he should do next. Traix held no real duty to the crown or the army but he felt he should report to a commanding officer and tell them what happened. They’d be expecting to hear word soon and would consider him a traitor if they discovered he was the sole survivor and said nothing. But, who could he tell and what would be in it for him and his family once he reported what happened?

His breathing finally calmed, he lifted himself up by his elbows and looked out at the water before him, glad to finally be out of it. The body he released to swim to shore had slowly made its way to dry land as well. Would he never be rid of the thing?

“Man overboard!” he heard someone on the dock just above his head scream just before the sound of someone hitting the water. A man dove in to try and save what he thought was a man in distress. Traix was going to say something but thought it pointless and stopped himself, resuming his position of resting on the sand, as he watched. The Good Samaritan screamed when he reached the floating dead body and realized his mistake. Traix chuckled quietly to himself as he imagined the dangling eyeball must’ve been a sight to behold!

A voice from behind him, further under the dock, hidden in darkness said, “Who are you?” It startled him and he sat up quickly, backing away in defense. When he saw the voice belonged to a young girl he stopped and slapped his hands together to rid them of sand. His attempts were less pointless than when he started to remove sand from his clothing. They were too sopping wet to really make any difference. He stopped once his arms gave out and he noticed she would continue to stare at him till she received an answer to her question.

“I am no one.” He could tell by her large, curious eyes, she was not going to leave. “What is a little one like you doing out here by yourself?”

“I am waiting for poppa. He went out on that big boat today and he promised he’d come back.” Traix looked down at the sand, not wishing to look into those big eyes of hers any longer. He knew the boat she spoke of was probably the ship he was on, and if it was then her father was dead and not coming back. What if her father was the man he used just now for his own safety? He remembered wanting to thank this dead man’s parents for the service of their son, but never once did he consider the man could’ve left behind a child. A daughter?

No! He shook the thought from his head. It was lunacy to assume this girl sought a father aboard the ship destined for death. Or that she might belong to the man currently being dragged in out of the water and hoisted onto the dock. Wasn’t it? He couldn’t take any chances. He needed to know.

“Tell me, little one, do you remember what your father wore before he got on the big boat?”

She nodded vigorously, impressed with herself for having an answer to his question. “He wore his lucky black boots, and his uniform, that ugly green, with his sword.” She wrinkled her nose when she spoke of his uniform but giggled at the mention of his sword. “He named his sword after me; Adelaide.” Traix slumped his shoulders. Her description of the uniform matched his own perfectly. “You are wearing the same colors as poppa. Is that Adelaide?” she asked, stepping closer towards him. She pointed to the sword he forgot he still had resting at his side. She must’ve assumed it was her father’s sword as all the men in the king’s army carried identical weapons as well as uniforms. Whether she belonged to the body he used to bring him to safety or not he knew she would forever be fatherless. But perhaps she had a mother who cared for her? He needed to know to at least alleviate his concerns for her.

“What of your mother? Why does she allow a little one such as yourself to be out here alone?” He held his breath and waited for her answer. And while he waited, for the first time took notice of her attire. She wore what looked like a sleeping gown, with nothing on her feet. Her toes curled in the sand and she twirled her long black curls that fell around her face. Tears welled up in her large eyes.

“I have no mother. It is just me and my poppa. He promised he’d be back. Have you seen him? Do you know where he is?” Her bottom lip quivered, and her big eyes seemed to get larger with every passing second waiting for his reply.

“Your father isn’t coming back, Adelaide.” Her lip stopped and she blinked, letting one tear roll down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away and straightened her back, standing at attention.

“I’ll take Adelaide, then.” She thrust her tiny hand forwards expecting Traix to hand over the sword that stood about as tall as she. He hesitated but could tell she needed to hold onto it right now more than he did. It did not matter that it was not the sword she spoke of, the one her father named after her and carried into battle with him. Her poppa needed it as a reminder of who he had waiting for him at home. She needed it now as a reminder of the father who loved her.

Traix loosened the belt from around his waist and leaned forwards on his knees to her, he held it out. She hesitated, not sure if he was really going to just hand it over. He could sense her apprehension and decided to lay the blade down on the sand in front of her.

She moved so quickly he almost didn’t notice when she snatched it up off the ground and clutched it tightly to her chest. He was correct, the blade was as long as she was and a bit too heavy for her to carry. She fumbled many times to steady the blade, but it kept slipping and he feared she might hurt herself. He smiled and crawled slowly towards her, hoping not to scare her but to help get a better hold of it. He took the belt from her hands and looped it across her chest like a sash. She looked over her shoulder at the hilt and turning back to smile at Traix she grabbed his hand.

They heard more men running along the dock overhead but ignored it as she led him to the top of the sand dune and onto the dirt path. No one paid them any attention headed for the Serpent’s Head.

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