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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The Serpent’s Head is the oldest standing tavern in Gaspar. It also happens to be the only tavern near the coastline where a man knows he is sure to find some liquid refreshment. As Traix gripped Adelaide’s small hand in his, he walked through the front door and was surprised to find it nearly empty, except for a few patrons seated at the bar and a table in a far corner where four men were engaged in a lively conversation. No one seemed to be bothered by Traix or the child who accompanied him. He didn’t want to take any chances that one of the men would notice the colors he wore, so he made for a table that was both far from prying eyes.
The stench of sweaty men and beer wafted to his nostrils and his stomach suddenly made an all too familiar sound. “Wait here, I need a drink.” He took two steps from the table, then stopped when he saw the look on her face. What made his stomach ache for the drink made hers wince in disgust. “Do you want something?” he asked, unsure if an establishment like this would have something suited for a child. She looked around the room and had the same thought. She shook her head at him and pulled the swords belt over her head so she could protect it better on her lap. The loud men continued to pay them no mind, but she still feared they might try and take it. Traix was more concerned someone would take her. He eyed the men seated at their own table cautiously, but their voices rose with laughter as they shouted for another round of drinks from the barman.
He approached the bar and slammed his hand down on the table to get the attention of the barman at the other end. In the middle of pouring a pint of beer for a gentleman who could barely hold his head in an upright position the barman stared Traix down with anger in his eyes. Then he saw the royal green of his vest and suddenly a smile appeared on his face. He snatched away the pint of beer he had finished pouring for the inebriated patron and walked it over to Traix, placing it carefully in front of him.
“Welcome, kind sir. What brings you to the Serpent’s Head? Is the king’s ship back, already? What news do you bring of the great Captain Hinde and his quest to defeat Silverblade?” The barman raised his voice so the few who were within earshot could hear him. He followed his line of questions by spitting just as loudly on the ground just beside him. Men young and old were known to do this as a sign of loyalty to the king especially when the name Silverblade was uttered.
Traix wished the barman hadn’t said anything or made such spectacle. He realized it was his attire that gave him away and made a mental note to rid himself of these clothes if he ever hoped to disappear. For the first time since he entered the Serpent’s Head all eyes were on him and he did not like the feeling. Before he dared to answer, he lifted the mug of ale and downed it in several gulps, for courage and to buy himself some time to think. As he slammed the mug back on the bar, he knew consuming alcohol would not be as helpful as he hoped.
“They’re all gone.”
One of the men huddled at the table took notice of what Traix said and quickly got to his feet. The sound of his chair scraping against the floor then toppling over made Traix reach for the hilt of his sword, but it was not there. Adelaide had it. The large man matched his movements, step for step, as Traix made his way towards Adelaide and reached out his hand to her.
“Give me my sword.”
“No, it’s mine. Get your own,” she answered and clutched it tighter to her chest, turning her entire body away from him.
“Did you say they’re all gone?” The man who stood from the table was now close enough for Traix to smell what manner of man he was; a drunk one. Traix also noticed he wore a similar royal green vest, except his was much more faded and tattered.
“Yes, I did.” Traix had a sense the man was harmless by the way he held himself. His gait was slightly hunched, and his gut hung out so far, the bottom two buttons of his royal green vest could not be fastened. Traix could tell a gut like that could only be acquired from many years of heavy drinking. He was confident if a fight should ensue, he could take him. So, what harm would it do to tell him what happened? “We got up close to her. The Shadow. But that pirate was ready for us. At first it looked like we were going to win. Her men seemed unsure of what to do or how to fight. We even fired a cannon into her side!”
One of the men seated at the table spoke up loudly, “I do not believe it.”
“That is an impossibility.” The nearly drunk man at the bar stammered as he allowed his body to fall forwards off the bar stool to his feet and swayed in their direction. Traix instinctively reached out his arms and caught him before he hit the floor. He recognized the signs of a man on the verge of collapse having lived with an Uncle who drank the same way for as long as he had to live with him. “I have heard rumors that no one has ever been able to fire upon the Shadow. That is how it got its name, you know? You think it is there, when really, it is over there.” His hands moved about wildly as he told his story to the men, all of whom listened to him like he spoke from experience.
“Yes, Krieger, we know. Why don’t you go back and sit down? Barman, my friend Krieger here wants another!” The man in the royal green vest pointed Krieger back towards the bar and waited till he knew he would make it without falling to the ground before turning his attention back to Traix and Adelaide. “That is a mighty pretty sword you got there. You’re not thinking of joining up to fight in the king’s army, are you?” He winked at her as he sat in a chair opposite hers. He hardly moved a few feet from his own table to theirs, but he was already out of breath. He huffed and puffed, the smell of alcohol carrying over to her so strong her eyes began to water.
“This sword belonged to my father, the greatest fighter—.”
“I am the only survivor,” Traix interrupted. He was not exactly sure who this man was, why he approached them, or what he wanted, but he knew Adelaide bringing up her dead father now was not the right time. “I swam back and by some miracle I made it to shore before the Fleshers got me.”
“You saw them? The Fleshers?” the man asked, leaning forward, excitement and joy dancing in his eyes. “What happened? How did you get away from them? I hear no man’s ever been able to escape them once they come up to the surface.”
“I used a decoy. It was nothing really. I am just on my way to see the king and tell him what happened.”
“The king? Are you sure that’s wise? What would he think of a man who deserted his fellow men to safety leaving them all behind to die? I am not sure I have your courage… I am sorry, what did you say your name was?” he asked. Traix’s hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, something they only did when he sensed danger. And this man wreaked of more than just alcohol.
“I did not. Why wouldn’t you go to the king? I would think he’d be grateful to know his ship was not destroyed this time like all the others have before it but was instead taken by Captain Silverblade. And there’s something else besides.” He regretted saying those words even before they left his lips, but he downed that drink at the bar too fast and it was beginning to make his empty stomach and head swim.
“What else? What happened?”
“You first. Who are you? Why do you wear the royal colors but look like you haven’t fought under the king’s flag a day in your life?” This was true. He was rather unkempt from his hair to the holes in his shoes. He was a disgrace to the royal green and if a general or a captain were to see the state of him, they would have his uniform stripped immediately. No one could wear the royal green in any state but clean, unless they were just returning from battle.
“I am Corwinn. Reginar Corwinn.” He thrust his arm out to Traix who took it begrudgingly, finally deciding to take the only other chair left at the table, nearest Adelaide. For a man who looked like he had never picked up a sword in battle, his grip was surprisingly strong and his hands rough, most likely from fighting a long time ago. “I used to be a well-respected man within the king’s army. He used to confide in me. That is, until that pirate ruined my life.”
“Wait, you are Corwinn? As in Corwinn the Coward?”
Upon being called this Corwinn stood from the table and Traix did the same in defense. There was fire in his eyes as it was a name he hadn’t heard in a long time and he didn’t fancy hearing it cross the lips of an obvious coward as well. Traix knew he made a mistake when he said that name once the first fist landed on his jaw. The second blow came just as fast and just as hard, only this time to Traix’s stomach, making him double over in pain. He used the table as a means of support to hold himself up.
“Hey, fellas, I’ll have no fighting in here. Corwinn, either sit and be civil or take it outside. I mean it.” The barman lifted a large club from under the bar and smacked one end of it into his hand several times to prove he meant business. Corwinn huffed at the barman as he grabbed Traix, out cold, from the table, and lifted him off the ground with one hand. His feet barely grazed the dirt floor as Corwin carried him with one hand to the bar where a tall glass of water was placed for him. He took it and tossed it into Traix’s face to wake him.
“Welcome back,” the barman said as Traix realized his feet were still dangling. “Put him down now. I think he learned his lesson, did not you, young man?” Traix attempted a nod as best he could and was promptly placed back on solid ground.
“Sorry,” he said, his throat scratchy after being held the way he was. He brushed himself off and went back to the table to find Adelaide and his sword were gone. “Where is she?”
“Who?” Corwinn asked.
“The girl. The one holding a sword, sitting right here. Where did she go?” He searched frantically around the bar, under every table. He even tried to jump up on the bar itself to look behind it but no use, she was not there either. This meant she must’ve left when Corwinn punched him unconscious. “See what you have done. You scared her.”
“Wait, don’t go, tell me what else happened on that ship?”
“Why? What do you care? You are not even—,” he stopped himself when Corwinn took a step towards him, his fists balled up. “I heard the name, Paragon.” The glass Krieger drank from slipped his hand and fell to the floor, shattering to pieces.
“What did you just say?”
“I said Para—.”
“Shh! Don’t say it again. Are you mad?” Both Krieger and Corwinn looked around the tavern as if expecting lightning or some other phenomenon. Traix couldn’t be bothered with these two completely drunk men and wanted desperately to leave. “Corwinn, you know what this means, do not you?”
“Yes, I do.” He smiled at Traix menacingly. “Run along now and find your little friend.” Traix wanted to say something but felt he had meddled with these two gentlemen long enough. He couldn’t even remember why he entered the tavern to begin with. But, none of that mattered now. Adelaide and his only line of defense between here and the king’s castle, his sword, were gone, and he needed to find them fast. In this village, a small child like her, with a sword that could make any one person or even family rich for a long time, was not safe. Without a word in reply he took his leave of the tavern hoping he’d never lay eyes on the likes of Krieger or Corwinn.
“Till we meet again,” Corwinn muttered under her breath as he watched Traix leave the Serpent’s Head in a hurry.