It was with huge relief and no little satisfaction that she heard the lookout call out that the Pyramid Isle was in sight, if a little further off their port beam than she had calculated. It was well named; its steep sides rose to a sharp point, forming a triangular outline against the grey, overcast sky. As if to taunt her, the headwind died down and gentle breeze from the north-east quarter allowed her to lay the ship on direct course. As the island loomed larger, Zastra suddenly felt uneasy.
‘Something is missing. It’s too quiet.’
Mata nodded grimly. ‘There are no birds. There would normally be flocks of seabirds around an island like that, yet there are none.’
Zastra took out her telescope and peered toward the island.
‘What could have scared them away?’
A dark object rose from the tip of the pyramid. It was so big that it looked as if part of the island itself had split off. The shape shivered and sprouted wings. Zastra felt a familiar feeling of dread.
‘A migaradon.’
‘Aye,’ Mata confirmed. ‘We’ve brought supplies. The island itself cannot provide enough food. Migaradons are always hungry.’
‘Koltan, get that signal up!’ cried Jagula. At the prow, Koltan fumbled with a stack of wooden signal panels. Each square had a different symbol, painted black against a white background.
‘Hurry man. Before it attacks.’
Koltan slotted four different symbols into a large metal grid and lowered it over the side of the ship, locking it into position between two brackets. The grid could be hung on either side of the ship as required. On this occasion, the grid faced the oncoming migaradon.
‘Are we sure it’s the right signal?’ Zastra was not the only one who appeared concerned.
‘We’d best hope so,’ remarked Mata drily. ‘Or we’ll not survive the day.’
Jerenik and Yashni had never seen a migaradon before and they stared in open mouthed astonishment as it flew towards them, its angry metallic shriek hurting their ears. The crew froze as the dark shadow swept over the ship, the relief noticeable as the creature passed harmlessly overhead.
‘What is it doing here?’ Zastra asked.
Mata shrugged. ‘I hear that Grand Marl Thorlberd has stationed many such creatures around the Sea of Golmeira. He wishes to control the seas as he does the land.’
She ordered Zastra to guide the ship into the narrow inlet that served as a harbour on the Pyramid Isle. The water was deep, with no shoals and sandbanks to worry about. That was a relief. It would be disastrous if they ran aground so far from the mainland and with only a migaradon for company. However, the entrance to the inlet was extremely narrow, barely twice the width of the ship, with black rocks rising steeply on either side. Mata watched closely but offered no advice as Zastra ordered the sails be trimmed until barely a hand’s width was left to take the wind and she eased the ship through the entrance to tie up against a wooden jetty. It was the first time the ship had touched land since Zastra had joined the crew. She guessed that Dastrin had no worries about the crew escaping. There was nowhere for them to run.
‘Unload the supplies,’ ordered Jagula. A gangway was lowered amidships and Zastra and the others were ordered to carry an assortment of boxes and crates ashore.
‘It must eat a lot.’ Jerenik sighed as he deposited one of four large jars of syrup on the jetty. ‘I was hoping these would be for us. You can’t get a better breakfast than fresh rolls and syrup.’
Zastra dumped her own jar beside his.
‘Since we’ve been on this ship, we’ve been given nothing to eat but porridge and salted goat. What made you think they would suddenly start giving us fresh rolls and syrup?’
‘I can dream, can’t I? Maybe if we killed that… that thing? Then the food would be going spare.’
‘Go ahead,’ suggested Mata drily. ‘No one has ever defeated a migaradon in battle, even when fighting for their lives. But no doubt your empty stomach will provide a better incentive. Just remember that its hide cannot be pierced by any weapon and the rider is a mindweaver who can control your thoughts and freeze you in your tracks.’
‘Porridge it is, then,’ Jerenik said, with another sigh. They were interrupted by a call from the lookout.
‘Sail to the north,’ she called. A small triangle of brown could just be made out on the horizon, framed between the steep sides of the entrance to the bay. It was moving erratically.
‘What in the stars are they doing?’ Mata wondered aloud.
Dastrin took out his telescope and trained it on the vessel. He licked his lips. ‘No signal. This should be interesting.’
Zastra took out her own telescope. ‘It looks like a fishing boat. Small, single sail, no obvious weapons. It can surely mean no harm.’
‘That doesn’t matter,’ Dastrin snapped. A harsh shriek cut through the air and the migaradon launched itself upwards. The fishing vessel tried to spin round but something was wrong with the rudder and it could only crab sideways as the migaradon closed. The beast circled once and then dived down, snapping the mast between its claws like a twig. The little boat rocked violently. One of the sailors was gesticulating and another jumped overboard in panic. The migaradon stove in the side of the boat with one swipe of its huge tail.
‘Lower the yacht!’ cried Mata. ‘There may be survivors.’
Zastra was already tugging furiously at the ropes that held the yacht in place.
‘Stand down!’ ordered Dastrin. ‘If they don’t have the signal, they are responsible for their own fate.’
Mata looked about to argue the point, but Dastrin silenced her with a look. Zastra refused to believe that Dastrin wouldn’t help the fishermen. She loosened one rope and moved the next, before she was hauled away by Burgal.
‘Please!’ she begged. ‘They’ll drown if we don’t help them.’
‘One more word and you’ll be in the punishment barrel.’
Once more, Dastrin trained his telescope on the fishing boat, licking his lips in anticipation. Zastra shrugged off Burgal and strode towards the captain. She was determined to make him listen. Before she had gone two paces she was lifted off her feet. A strong arm gripped her waist and a hand pinched her windpipe, smothering her angry protest. Starved of air she ceased struggling and found herself deposited unceremoniously on the foredeck. Livid at such treatment, she spun round to confront her attacker.
‘The punishment barrel is not pleasant,’ Ithgol remarked.
‘I don’t care,’ she croaked. ‘Don’t you see what he’s doing? He’s a monster.’
She felt someone grab her arm. It was Mata.
‘Be silent,’ the Watchmaster hissed. ‘You can do nothing. The Kyrg has saved you certain punishment.’
‘I didn’t ask him to. Those poor sailors…’ Zastra tried to wrestle herself free. Mata maintained her grip.
‘It’s no good. Captain Dastrin will not let us save them.’ Zastra took a couple of breaths to try and calm herself. She was shaking with anger.
‘How can you stand it?’
‘Because I must. I have a wife and family in Golmeira. They depend on the money I send. I will not risk their living for a futile gesture. You must learn to accept what you cannot change.’
‘No one should ever accept such things,’ Zastra muttered bitterly.
‘Go and relieve the lookout. Half a day up there should give you time to cool off. That’s an order.’
Mata shoved her towards the mainmast. Jerenik slapped her on her back as she made her way past. ‘You and the Kyrg best friends now? That was a nice hug he gave you. I didn’t know you were so close. Tell me, when’s the wedding?’
‘This isn’t funny, Jerenik. We can’t let this happen again. We have to do something.’
He learned towards her.
‘Anytime you come up with a plan, mountain girl, I’m in.’
Chapter Twenty-four
Ixendred set down his pen and re-read the last lines of his report. With the help of the Kyrg mercenaries
, his push into Sendor had been successful and the rebels had been forced to retreat to the Caves of Karabek. Sendor was at last under Golmeiran control. His only concern was that he still hadn’t captured the experienced General Alboraz or either of Mendoraz’s children. They were almost certainly hiding within the caves but every time they found an entrance, the Sendorans were waiting in ambush and by the time he sent reinforcements, the entrances had been blocked off. It was impossible to pin down his enemy. As he was pondering how he could explain this to Grand Marl Thorlberd without looking weak, his tent-flap was yanked open.
‘Writing to my father, Ixy? There’s really no need. I’ve already sent a message telling him of our success.’
And taking credit for it all, no doubt. Ixendred put down his pen.
‘We still haven’t captured Kylen or Zadorax. Your father will not deem this mission a success until they are caught.’
‘It’s only a matter of time. I’ve got a plan which will succeed where you have failed.’
Ixendred strove to maintain a polite tone in the face of such insolence.
‘Much as I admire your enthusiasm, Rastran, your father holds me responsible for your safety. I shall not allow you to endanger your life in some ill thought-out scheme.’
Rastran grinned with an air of knowing superiority.
‘I have a new weapon, just arrived from Murthen Island. Something so deadly that even the legendary Caves of Karabek will be no obstacle.’
‘Weapon? What weapon? Why has no one told me of this?’
Rastran merely smirked.
‘I order you to tell me.’
‘Remember your place, Ixy. You do not make demands of the Grand Marl’s son.’
Ixendred rose to his feet.
‘It is you that must remember your place. Your father put me in charge of this mission, not you. You obey my orders.’
‘Not any more. You have failed. I told my father as much.’
‘I’ll bet you did.’
‘I’ll need two troops. One of ours and one of the Kyrgs. We have discovered another entrance to the caves and will attack tonight. You can watch if you’d like. It will be a valuable learning experience for you. Although I’d advise you to keep a safe distance.’
With a triumphant smirk, Rastran left the tent. Battening down his anger, Ixendred questioned all his captains and lieutenants about Rastran’s plans, but none admitted to any knowledge. In the end he dismissed the youth’s comments as arrogant bluster. To make certain, he gave explicit orders that no troops were to leave camp without his permission before he retired for the night.
In the middle of the night he was jerked awake. The ground beneath his thin mattress was shuddering. Staggering up, he pulled back the flap of his tent. Across the valley a great fire illuminated a cloud of dust that spread upwards to block out the light of the stars. A gaping hole had been torn in the side of the Karabek Mountains. In the light of the blaze, he made out bodies in strange, unnatural poses scattered across the rocks. Most were wearing uniforms of the Golmeiran army. Ixendred hastily pulled on his own uniform and strode from the tent.
‘What’s going on?’
The nearby soldiers looked at him wordlessly, stunned expressions on their faces.
‘Well?’ barked Ixendred. One of the soldiers roused herself.
‘L-lord Rastran’s new w-weapon,’ she stuttered. ‘I had no idea…’
She gaped at the ruined face of the mountain. The sound of marching feet, muffled and ragged, signalled the return of Rastran and the remnants of what had been two full troops. He swaggered into the camp, followed by a handful of Kyrgs and Golmeiran soldiers. Ixendred looked with dismay at their torn uniforms and pitifully small numbers. Less than a quarter had returned. He strode up to Rastran and placed his palm on his chest, forcing him to stop.
‘What in the stars have you done, boy?’ He was shaking with fury. Rastran tried to throw him off, but Ixendred would not be moved.
‘Get your hands off me, Ixy. I have shown those savages the strength of Golmeira and I’ve finally captured one of Mendoraz’s brats. Bring him here.’
A fair-haired boy, no more than twelve years old, was dragged forward.
‘This is the boy Zadorax. I know his face. He once soiled the grounds of Golmer Castle, he and his bitch sister.’
‘She was too much for you,’ Zadorax said defiantly. Rastran shoved him to the ground.
‘What was that?’ demanded Ixendred.
‘I told you. Weren’t you listening? It’s my new weapon. Sintegrack it’s called.’
‘What happened to my men and women? Where are the rest?’
‘We misjudged the power of the sintegrack.’ Rastran shrugged. ‘Some slowcoaches were caught up in the blast. Don’t worry, they can be replaced.’
‘A life is not to be surrendered so lightly, boy.’ Ixendred ground his teeth so hard his jaw ached. ‘Each is someone’s son or daughter.’ Even as he uttered them, he saw that his words were wasted.
‘I’ve finished listening to you, Ixy.’
Rastran signalled towards a lieutenant. ‘Make arrangements to take the prisoners down to Castanton and put them on the next ship bound for Murthen Island. They will prove useful for our experiments.’
‘What experiments?’ Zadorax tried to look brave, but his voice wavered.
‘Wait and see.’ Rastran smiled unpleasantly. ‘You can be certain that your sister will follow shortly, as soon as my next batch of sintegrack arrives. Not even the Caves of Karabek will protect her.’
Chapter Twenty-five
The Wind of Golmeira put in briefly at Port Castanton. Dastrin ordered the release of more of the crew’s wages and Zastra realised with a shock that it had been more than two years since she had been pressed into service in her uncle’s fleet. She wondered whether Fin would even remember her. The thought of escape was never far from her mind, even more so after the events at the Pyramid Isle. The word mutiny, once mentioned by Jerenik, had never again been spoken in Zastra’s hearing but Dastrin was an unpopular captain and his distinct lack of presence whenever there was any fighting had not gone unnoticed. Only fear of the barrel, or worse, kept the crew in line. Zastra longed to act, but didn’t know who to trust. Except for Jerenik, it was impossible to tell who might be willing try and take over the ship, and the two of them could never pull off a mutiny by themselves.
Dastrin returned from a trip ashore and ordered the Wind of Golmeira to head south. No one knew where they were going or why. They sailed well beyond their normal range. Some of the more experienced crew members began nod and mutter to themselves in a knowing manner.
‘Looks like we are heading for the Sand Islands of the Southern Kyrgs,’ Mata remarked as she and Zastra plotted their daily location.
‘Why in the stars would we do that?’ Zastra had no desire to meet more Skurgs. It appeared Mata was correct however, as their course continued to take them directly towards the Skurg homeland, driven by a helpful wind from the northwest quarter. It grew noticeably colder as they ventured further south. At last, a cry from the lookout indicated that land had been sighted and two islands emerged on the horizon, one behind the other. They lay across the ocean, long and flat, each with a raised bump almost like a head at the eastern edge. The one at the rear was much larger than its neighbour and was shrouded in haze, looking almost like a large shadow cast by the smaller island.
‘I always think they look like a pair of sleeping lizards,’ said Mata. ‘A baby and its mother.’
Dastrin ordered the Wind of Golmeira to retreat and take station just out of view of the reptilian islands. They tacked back and forth across the same stretch of water for another two days.
‘I don’t like this,’ muttered Jerenik. ‘Why are we waiting around in Skurg territory like fishbait?’
The rest of the crew seemed to share his feelings and the mutterings and unrest increased as the days went by. Finally, Dastrin called the officers to his cabin.
‘About time,’
remarked Jerenik.
‘What are you in such a hurry for?’ Yashni asked. They rarely saw her since she had gone to work with Tijan, but she had been released when the healer had been called to Dastrin’s cabin with the other officers. ‘Attacking the Skurg homeland seems like a very bad idea.’
‘I don’t like sitting here while the Skurgs to decide how they’re going to cook us,’ Jerenik returned. ‘Let’s see what’s going on, shall we?’ He winked and disappeared down one of the hatches that led to the lower underdeck. Yashni stared after him.
‘Where’s he going?’
Zastra shrugged. ‘No idea. I suggest we enjoy the peace and quiet while it lasts.’
The timbers of the ship creaked and groaned as they sailed up and down on the now familiar tack. Zastra’s eyelids began to droop and she dropped into a doze. She was roused by the bell that summoned all hands. Rubbing her eyes, she followed the rest of the crew to assemble before the quarterdeck, finding Ithgol and Yashni in the crowd.
‘Where’s Jerenik?’
‘Close,’ Ithgol sniffed. ‘I can smell him.’
A dirty face poked up from the hatch amidships. It was Jerenik. He slunk over to join them.
‘Where have you been?’ Zastra wrinkled her nose in disgust. ‘You smell as if you’ve been rolling around in the head.’
Lieutenant Jagula called for quiet and Dastrin addressed the crew.
‘The Skurgs have stolen something from one of our ships. We have orders to take it back. We should have been joined by reinforcements. As they haven’t bothered to show up, it looks as if we must complete this mission alone. Since we know little of the island’s defences we will send an advance party, under cover of darkness. Know this. This mission must succeed. I will not accept failure.’
Tales of Golmeira- The Complete Box Set Page 34