King's Exile: Book 1Teaser Preview

Chap. 3, Part 3 At the Farm

Seven days after he had fled the castle, Dax leaned on his walking sticks atop a wooded bluff overlooking the Merrywell, and looked down at his aunt and uncle's farm beyond. A grey heron fished in the shallows at a bend in the stream below. A hawk turned lazy circles above the horse pastures. It was mid afternoon, and his stomach rumbled at the thought of sitting down at his aunt and uncle's table this evening with his cousins beside him to have a real meal. His first impulse was to dash down the hill to the bridge on the road below, but he hesitated. After traveling for days, caution had become a habit. Something did not feel right, so he found a sheltered spot to set, and he watched.

The house, large and sturdy, had been constructed of rough hewn timbers, darkened with pitch, and carefully laid river rock. The wood and stone kept the house snug in all weather. He remembered the exact layout inside which triggered memories of playing with his cousins around the great room's warm hearth the winter before last. Trainers, grooms, and other help lived in a large wing on the rear of the main house. Farther back from the road stood three large horse barns. They were the largest of the out-buildings, and their heavy log walls, like the house, were chinked against the weather. The large privy had been protected from the weather too, but other buildings including a large hay drying barn offered protection from the wind and rain, but little else.

As he studied the scene, he remembered more about the farm, and he noticed other details. Finally he realized what had bothered him from the first. No horses. The farm had many fenced pastures around the three horse barns. Every time Dax had visited in the past there had been any number of horses grazing, colts frolicking, and trainers working. Now there was nothing. All was still.

Suddenly, realization slammed into him, and he could scarcely breath. The guardsmen on the road had been taking horses back to Tazzelton. He had been monumentally stupid—again! With Dax gone, his Aunt Lorina Tremayne, his father's sister, was in line for the throne, and his cousins next. How could he have over looked the idea that Mathilde's plot to seize the throne would include eliminating other direct lines to the Ambegriff throne? After a pulse of recrimination, he forced himself to stop thinking about his mistakes and to start thinking about his own situation.

The farm appeared deserted, but was it?  Suspicious, he tried imagine what the plotters had done. Mathilde wanted to eliminate immediate claims to the throne, but could she also have thought Dax would head for the farm after he disappeared from the castle? If so, that meant the Guard detachment would have left a few Guardsmen behind at the farm in case he showed up.

Dax found a more comfortable hidden spot where he could watch the farm while he thought. Where could he go now? From his days on the road so far, he knew food and shelter were his biggest immediate concerns. He was a boy who had been raised in a castle. While he had enjoyed hunting trips with his father and Herne, they had not prepared him to survive on his own. It would not be easy. Maybe it would be impossible since he had not yet any success catching or killing any wild game with his crude bow. Besides, in the wilderness survival would be a full time job. He recognized the now familiar swell of fiery, angry determination. He had to fight back. He had to do something besides just survive. Could he do anything to make things difficult for the plotters?

He shifted position so he could look past the opposite side of the tree he had hidden behind to look at the north pastures. The only thing he could think of was to head back to Tazzelton. The Castle was the heart of the plot and the center of danger. But perhaps, surrounded by people in the city, he might find it easier to escape notice than if he stayed in the sparsely populated countryside. Could he become just another of the young toughs common on the streets? How tough would he have to be? The answer was easy. He would be as tough has he needed to be. He would think about a plan on his way back.