*Go now,* the familiar voice in his mind ordered.
Gareth sat the bag near his knees in the bottom of the canoe and pushed off. He paddled without opening the bag or passing a word between him and the other. Eiger was the name of the sailor. He knew it, but not that of the man he trusted his escape and his life with. “Your name? Not having a name to call you by drives me crazy. I know your dragon’s name, and even that of the man in the boat that I can’t speak to, but not yours.”
*Have you considered a possible destination?*
“No. Any ship sailing far away will do if it leaves tonight before Tom gets here to stop me. I need your help in learning to control my mind so others cannot follow me. I also need time to think about all that’s happened and what I will do in the future. But there are flaws in my plan, and I have to resolve them, too.”
Laughter flooded his mind. *One of them being that you cannot hide from me? You’ve figured that out?*
“Exactly. First, Cinder can follow any ship from a distance so far away I cannot see him, but with his fantastic eyesight, you can watch me through him. Second, you can look into my mind and tell where I am.”
*You will learn to lock me from your mind, in time. You will also lock out any others. Teaching you to keep your thoughts to yourself is a skill you’ll learn within a month’s cycle, I’m sure.*
On his left, the riverbank now extended docks and piers jutting out like dozens of misshapen fingers. Ships sat moored to most. Activity bustled with the offloading and loading of cargo, repairs, and refitting. Gareth paddled for the center of activity and noticed one pier where men stood ready at massive bollards to slip the ropes on a three-mast ship. The ship stood tall, was in good repair, and looked capable of sailing anywhere. The canoe’s bow touched the dock. Gareth opened the bag he’d been given at the sailboat. Food and clothing, and on top, a small leather purse. He pulled the purse strings and poured copper, silver, and six gold coins of various sizes into his palm. The coins went back into the purse. He scooped the sleeping dragon into his left arm and tossed the bag over his right shoulder.
Running across the dock to the side of the ship he cupped his hands and called, “May I speak to the captain?”
A man prowling the deck, arms folded across his chest, paused. A white beard hung to his chest. He looked down at Gareth with a scowl. “I have a full crew, so go find work on another ship.”
“I do not search for work.”
“What is it you want?”
“Passage, sir.”
The man spat and waited as he examined Gareth. All eyes of those on the ships paused long enough to catch a glimpse of Gareth and his dragon. “Have you two large silvers for the fare?”
“I do.”
“Is that a dragon I see in your arms?”
“It is.”
“Add a small silver to your cost for all the food that monster is going to devour. I’ve had my share of dragons on board, so I know what they eat. Also, you’ll commit to keeping him restrained, and any damage he causes will be at your expense.”
Gareth decided another silver might be a cheap price to pay for Blackie’s appetite. “Agreed. I’ll pay the extra silver.”
“Then you both shall have passage to the Carnal Islands. Welcome aboard the good ship Sea Maiden.” He turned and shouted, “Drop that aft gangway for them, you slackers. Get a move on, we still have a tide to catch.”
The instant the gangway touched the dock Gareth hustled up it. In short order, he found himself in a tiny cabin near the stern assigned to him, along with orders not to interfere with the crew of the ship. A steward explained the rules in short bursts of talk. His time on deck was restricted to a morning stroll near his cabin. Time at the rail was restricted to after meals. All food came to him on a tray. Served by the steward, a boy younger than Faring. A second tray would hold piles of kitchen scraps for the dragon. Gareth would handle his own chamber pot or pay an additional copper to the steward.
Fascinated, Gareth watched the ship’s departure from a small porthole in his cabin while Blackie explored every nook and cranny. Gareth kept a strict watch on the river for Tom and the men he’d rallied to follow him, but the river remained empty. Once clear of the port, the river current carried the ship out into the ocean, where sails were set, and the wind became their friend.
Gareth allowed a long breath of relief to escape, the first in days. He might even get to sleep at night, for a welcome change. Only those few on the pier may have noticed him as he ran from canoe to ship, but in all probability, only a few dock workers had even seen him. That left few tongues to wag when Tom asked his questions. Only those on the ship knew of him, and they sailed with him. Until the ship returned to Drakesport, nobody would know his destination.
He opened his mind. “I have booked passage on a ship headed for the Carnal Islands.”
No answer.
Gareth tried making contact again after the evening meal. Unsuccessful, he climbed into small the hammock and fell asleep with the swaying of the ship. He woke in the depths of the night to find the dragon also in the tiny hammock crowding him for space. No night whispers stirred him. He woke again when a persistent knock sounded at his cabin door. Light streamed in through the small porthole. The steward stood at the door, holding breakfast balanced in a bowl with one hand, and a tray of meat scraps in the other. The steward handed the second tray to Gareth and backed off a step before Blackie attacked the food. Evidently he’d also dealt with young dragons, too.
Gareth accepted the bowl of pottage and hardtack biscuits. He hadn’t eaten for more than a day, and he attacked the food as eagerly as Blackie. The eyes of the steward watched both. Gareth asked, “Ever been to the Carnal Islands?”
“Three times, sir.”
“Tell me about them.”
The steward stumbled and stuttered, watching them devour their meals. “Well, they’re islands way down south where it’s warm all year around. They get a lot of rain so everything’s green. They grow spices and exotic fruit, there. Lots of fish to eat. Only a few towns and villages. One main port city called Brown Horse. Not many ships go there, ‘cept for us, of course.”
A city called Brown Horse. “Sounds perfect,” Gareth said, as he thought of Dun Mare. A dun mare is a brown horse. Perfect.
“It does?” the steward asked, still watching the pile of meat and fat disappear inside the dragon with slurping, tearing and bones crunching. “Where does it put it all?”
“Blackie’s just a chick. Full grown he’ll be half the size of this ship so he eats like a . . . Well, like a dragon.”
The tray empty, Blackie raised his head and shrieked in satisfaction. The ship’s steward slipped out the door, complexion pale white.
Gareth opened his mind again. “Are you there?”
*Yes, I am. I saw through Cinder’s eyes that your ship departed safely. Hopefully, all is well with you and little Blackie.*
“The money you provided paid for passage, and with the gold coins, I expect there is enough to live on at least a year. How do I ever thank you?”
*No need for that. If you run out, let me know, and there is more. Over the years, I’ve managed to secure quite a sum of gold, bowls full of gemstones, and other wealth. I have little use for it, these days. All I need is my home in my valley, my garden for food, a little sunshine in the afternoon for my nap, and all of that is free.*
“You sound like a happy man.”
*Helping others makes me happy, I guess. Part of the job. I have more good news for you.*