Dragon Defense (Heirs to the Throne Book 3) (15 page)

He grabbed an oar and shoved against the rocky seabed until the boat floated in deep blue-green water.  The waves threatened to send him back toward the beach.  He gritted his teeth and rowed over rising swells, determined to put distance between his fragile vessel and the dragons’ cliffs.

It felt like an eternity until the boat drifted into calm water and its bow turned into the current.  As the reflection of a silver moon rippled across the water, Jordan followed the shore.  He saw nothing but rocks.  Would the current drive his boat onto a treacherous reef?  He untied the ropes and unfurled the sail.  A steady breeze filled the sail and the skiff glided over gentle swells as the dragon cliffs disappeared. Moving sent jolts of pain through his battered body, but Jordan forced his muscles to obey.  He pointed the bow into the silver crescent and tethered the wheel.  He relaxed for just a moment against the hull and closed his eyes.  He’d let his aching muscles rest until he decided what to do. 

Killer curled his furry body against the sleeping human, but kept alert eyes riveted on the eerie black water. The first rays of sunlight woke Jordan.  He bolted upright and pain shot through his ribs.  Killer scolded him from a coil of rope, stopping his chatter to groom his mussed fur.  The sail still billowed against a gentle breeze, propelling the boat across sapphire blue water that stretched into an empty horizon. 

Jordan’s heart sank.  He saw nothing except rolling waves and clear blue sky in every direction.  While he slept the boat sailed into open water and he had no idea which direction he traveled. 

“Idiot!  You’re lost at sea and someone kidnapped Felesia!” he said. Killer chattered a stream of abuse.  “What can I do?”

Jordan studied the situation, desperate to gain control.  A steady breeze filled the sail and the sun rose on the horizon—to the east.  The bow was pointed west with the wheel lashed tight, so he sailed west all night.  If he reversed direction into the sun, he might find land again.  Waves rippled along the boat and he wondered how much the current affected his direction.  In a tackle box he found a long piece of fishing line, tied the line to a piece of cork and tossed it into the water.  It drifted away from the craft at an angle.

“The wind fought against the current all night.  If I sail in the same direction as the current, I might make better time.”  He untied the wheel and awkwardly turned the skiff into the current.

Killer chattered and Jordan nodded.  “I’m hungry too, but we left the picnic basket on shore.”  Killer darted to a small door and stood waiting.  “What’s in there?”  Jordan unlatched the door and found a bucket covered with burlap.  Killer darted under the cover and emerged with a small fish dangling from his mouth. 

Jordan chuckled.  “You found a bucket of bait.  I should’ve known you’d sniff out something to eat.”  He rummaged in the boat and found a fishing pole and net.  “With any luck I’ll catch something befitting my size.”

Jordan baited the hook, released the catch on the reel, and fed a long piece of line over the edge of the boat.  He rested the pole in a u-shaped piece of metal and waited.  While he watched the pole, he wondered how he could find Felesia.  Sniffing the breeze, Killer chattered and raced up and down the length of the skiff. 

“I wish I understood what you wanted.”

Killer gazed into the sky and Jordan stared in the same direction.  A bird circled overhead.  “Arrow!” He called and a shrill keen pierced the air.  “It’s Arrow!” he shouted with glee.

Jordan calmed his mind and let his thoughts touch the bird.  He felt Arrow’s loneliness and desire to find Felesia.  Arrow dipped her wings and landed on the mast.  Jordan filled his mind with pictures of land and a desire to walk on solid ground.  The hawk cocked her head and stared down.  He tried again.  “Where is the land?” he asked aloud.

Arrow launched her body into the breeze, flying a direction a few degrees north of the direction the boat pointed.  Jordan saw land in Arrow’s thoughts and whooped with joy.  “You beautiful creature!” he shouted.  “Lead the way.  We must find Felesia.”

When Jordan caught sight of land, a familiar shape flew toward the boat.  “Flash!”  He shouted.

She responded with colors of happiness in her wings.  “Careful, don’t land on the mast, you’ll tip us over.”  He sent the thought to Flash and she hovered over the small craft craning her neck.  Worry filled the dragon’s mind. Jordan sent pictures of Felesia’s capture and Flash keened mournfully.  Her cry echoed across the ocean and Jordan heard an answer.

Flash flew in sweeping circles around the sailboat, shades of purple shimmering in her wings.  Soon dragon wings filled the sky and dread filled Jordan’s mind.   Flash tilted her wings and flew with the same elegant grace of her larger cousins.

Jordan watched, mesmerized, as the dragons performed an aerial ballet.  Was this a greeting ritual?  Air from their wings buffeted the skiff, rocking it like a toy in a pond but Jordan felt calm.  Iridescent colors swirled over filmy wings, and Flash crowed with happiness. 

She swooped close, and Jordan’s mind heard the message.  The dragons wanted to help Flash find her human, Felesia.  He saw pictures of dragons searching for a human with golden brown hair.  Gold colors spread across dragon wings, and Jordan felt excited as the dragons formed an aerial search team. 

Jordan sailed toward the docks to muster human search parties.  With the dragons’ help he felt sure Felesia would be rescued.  Jordan docked the skiff and raced up the winding path to the manor. 

Arrow landed on his shoulder and Marra bounded up, snarling and batting at his moving feet with her paws.  Jordan scratched the panther’s head, and urged her to return to the forest before he entered the building.

Anxiety filled Krystal’s face.  She descended on him with the wrath of a mother who’d spent a sleepless night worrying about her daughter.  Brandon looked surprised to see Jordan.  Crossing the room with long determined strides, Jordan grabbed Brandon and shook him.

“Who’d you send to steal Felesia?” Jordan growled.  “Did you think you could force Felesia to marry you or just ask for a fat ransom?”

“I didn’t hire them to capture Felesia!” Brandon sputtered.  “They were supposed to grab you!”  His voice echoed through a hushed hall as Jordan’s fist slammed into Brandon’s pretty face.  The lordling sprawled across the marble floor with a bleeding nose.  His father’s guards watched without interference.

Jordan dragged Brandon to his feet. “Your henchmen took Felesia in my place, so tell me where they’re going!”

Krystal shouted, “Tell him or forfeit your life!”  

Lord Dartmouth advanced on his son.  “What coward hires thugs to dispose of a romantic rival?  Where’d they take the girl?”

Brandon sobbed, “I don’t know.  I hired Chad to capture the man dressed in my red cloak and make him work as a sailor.  I didn’t ask where the ship was bound.”

Lord Dartmouth grimaced.  “You disgrace us with your stupidity!  You’re banished from court until that girl returns to her family.  Help us restore a measure of honor to this family!”

Brandon cringed under his father’s rage. “No one was supposed to get hurt, least of all Felesia.  Captain Chad made the arrangements.  Ask him where the ship’s bound.”

Lord Dartmouth turned to Krystal.  “I offer my deepest apologies.  I’ll personally interview Captain Chad. I guarantee every ship will be drafted to aid in the search.”  He glowered at Brandon.  “My son will sail with Captain Chad as a kitchen boy until he learns how to behave like a grown man.  Guards, take this refuse from my sight and fetch me Captain Chad!”

*****

Felesia groaned and tried to sit up.  Ropes bit into her wrists as she examined the dark hole of her captivity.  Light filtered from overhead gaps in the wood ceiling.  She saw crates stacked against the sloping wood walls and coarse bags filled with grain piled on the floor. 

Her head ached and her nostrils burned.  She yanked against her wrists and discovered they were bound to her ankles with rope.  Struggling tightened the knots, and she soon gave up the effort. Frustrated and angry she lay in the stinking hole until heavy boots pounded overhead. 

She shouted, “Hey there, untie me!”  A hatch opened, and she blinked against bright sunlight.

“Ready to join the crew?” a guttural voice shouted.

“Get me out of here!” she demanded.

“A spunky one we snatched.  We’ll teach him a few manners before the day’s done!”  A rope ladder dropped and a stocky man scampered down the rungs.  Rough hands lifted her body.  He slung her over a broad shoulder, climbed the rope ladder, and dumped her onto a slimy deck.

A slim man poked her with his foot.  “He’s too skinny for heavy work so we’ll make him swab the decks and ferry the garbage from the galley.”

“Untie me!” Felesia shouted.

“Manners now!”  The stocky man grinned with gaps in his teeth.  “Ask polite or we don’t listen.” 

She bit back an angry retort.  “Please untie me. I’d really appreciate it.”  Felesia tried to sound reasonable.

“Sure enough, mate!”  The thin one slipped a knife from his belt, squatted and touched the tip of the knife to her throat.  “But there’s rules you need to hear, mate.” 

Felesia’s anger simmered. 

“You be the low man on this here scow.  We’re all higher then you, so you’d best listen to us higher ups and obey orders.  If Scully here, asks you to fetch a cupper from the galley, you hop to and fetch it right smart.  If old Bosk, that’s me, orders you to polish the brass, you whip out yer rag and put muscle behind it.  Don’t give us none of yer lip neither.”

Scully sniggered.  “What happens if he don’t do as he’s told?”

Bosk pressed the knife against her throat.  “I takes me pig sticker and slices off something that don’t matter none, like an ear or a nose. If he gives us any more guff, he loses a finger or an eye.”  Bosk wiped blood off the blade with a filthy rag.  The rag smelled tangy and made her nose burn.  “Do you catch our meaning?  Obey or yer fish bait.”

Felesia nodded and considered his words.  He called her “lad” so he thought she was a boy.  A lump of fear formed in her chest. She thought,
What happens when they discover I’m a girl?
  Bosk jerked her up and slit the rope, letting her drop onto her face.  Hoots of laughter erupted.

Rolling to avoid a foot that snaked out to connect with her ribs, she scrambled to her feet.  Once on her feet, she dodged the heavy boot again, and Bosk lunged at her swearing.

“Giving us grief already, he is.”  Scully grinned.  “Guess he needs another lesson.”  He circled the mast, while Bosk moved around the other side.

As blood returned to her hands, Felesia’s fingers tingled.  Her arms and legs ached but she dodged the men.  Bosk snagged the red cloak.  She slithered free and Bosk stood holding limp red fabric.  He gaped as the slim girl climbed the mast like a monkey.  Her red cap fell off and honey-brown hair floated in the breeze.

Standing on a spar Felesia glared down at the men like a wild animal, trapped but ready to fight.  A bead of blood trickled down her throat.  She watched the men stand with blades ready.

“Enough!” a voice bellowed.  Bosk and Scully snapped to attention. “You don’t have the brains to fill a thimble!”  The Captain screamed as he swept down from the bridge.  “I sent you out to fetch a man, and you bring me a blasted girl!”

Bosk quaked under his master’s glare.  “We grabbed the bloke in the red cloak, like we was told.  We didn’t know the bloke were a woman!”

Scully joined his mate.  “Bosk tells it right.” 

The Captain stared up at Felesia.  “She’s a girl.  If we were on land, I’d take pleasure in exploring her soft body.”  His mouth grinned but his eyes glinted with hatred.  “Onboard a ship everyone knows a woman is a curse!  Haul her down while I think on the matter.”

Bosk scrambled up the ropes. 

When Felesia lived in the forest, she learned to climb, so she kept out of reach.  Soon she balanced atop the mast with nowhere to go.  She contemplated jumping into the water.

Bosk stopped.  Sweat cut white rivulets down his dirty skin. “Old Bosk won’t hurt you none, missy.  Come down like a good lass.”  He held out a grubby hand.

Felesia snarled like a panther and scratched him. 

“She’s not a woman, she’s a blasted devil!”  He jerked his hand back.  “Captain, she’s an evil spirit!” Eyes wide, he shivered and clung to the ropes.

“Leave her then!” the captain growled. “She’ll come down when she gets hungry, or we’ll let desert riders catch her when we reach port.”

Bosk scrambled down, rubbing his hand. 

Legs trembling with fatigue, Felesia slumped against the mast and wrapped her wrist with a rope.  Her heart pounded.  She stared across the open sea and choked back a sob.  Ocean!  She saw nothing but water in every direction.  Below the men watched her with suspicious stares. 

She muttered, “Come near me and I’ll show you a devil woman.”  She examined the blood smeared across her fingers.  “I’ve been chased by better than you and never let them catch me.”

The men changed shifts at regular intervals during the day.  She expected their vigil might slacken at night.  Felesia wished she had the cloak as she watched the sun dip toward the horizon.  She faced a damp night, alone, perched high above her captors.  She closed her eyes and longed for the solid comfort of soil beneath her feet.  She missed Jordan, Marra, Flash and Arrow.