by Hylton, PT
The guard in front of them spit on the ground. “You can keep your damn greetings. What’s your business here?”
“Chief Magnus sent me,” Gideon answered. He sounded unfazed—and unsurprised—at the guard’s less-than-friendly greeting. “We’re here to investigate the attack. It’s my job to catch those Tall Grass Raider bastards.”
The guard squinted up at him. “Oh, I’ve heard of you. You’re the chief’s brother. The one who’s always poking around after the trouble’s over. After real warriors have fought the rebels off.”
“How long have you been chasing those rebels, anyway?” the other guard interjected.
Gideon ignored the comment and stayed focused on the first guard. “Is that what happened? You fought them off?”
The guard shifted from one foot to the other. “Yes. Pretty much.”
“Hmm. Normally, that’s not how it goes down. The rebels attack, fire some arrows for cover, and light fires for distraction. Sometimes they steal, and sometimes the destruction is enough. Then they run away. It’s over in minutes.”
The guard raised his hand, palm up, showing his stone in the gesture Abbey had come to understand was meant to be aggressive.
“Easy, friend,” Abbey said. “We’re here to help. My team and I would like to speak with some of the people in the village. Will you allow us to pass?”
The guards exchanged a glance, then the first one nodded. “Be quick about it. And be aware most in our village don’t hold our chief in the same high regard you and I do. Personally I’d like to see your asses headed down the road, but if some in the village want to speak to you, I won’t stop them.”
“Did he just say he’d like to see our asses?” Olaf asked quietly.
Abbey elbowed him.
“Many thanks,” Gideon told the guard. “Pleasant day to you.”
The guard spit on the ground again, but then he stepped aside and let them pass.
As the wagon rolled away from the guards, Dustin asked, “Does it usually go that poorly?”
“Pretty much,” Gideon replied. “And the guards are the friendly ones. Everyone else resents Magnus, and I can’t much blame them. They have to pay tribute, and they get far less protection than the bigger towns.”
“You’ve spent the last year traveling to places where the people hate you?” Abbey asked.
“They don’t like me much in Ammaas, either. I’m a bit too opinionated for their tastes, my brother included. Most of the people out here haven’t seen a representative from Chief Magnus in years, other than the Stone Shaper guards. It’s only natural they’d take out their frustrations on me.”
They spent the next three hours talking to some of the villagers about their experience during the raid. Working in pairs, they went from house to house, asking questions and listening to stories. If the residents had any inkling that most of the people asking questions were foreigners, they gave no indication. They seemed just as hostile to Gideon as they did to the rest of them.
Most were reluctant to talk at first, but the majority opened up after a few questions. Abbey began to get a clear picture of what had happened the morning of the raid.
The only thing none of them would talk about was the specifics of what had been taken by the raiders. A few made vague statements about valuables from the storehouse, but they all claimed not to know what the valuables were.
Abbey was partnered with Dustin, and he turned out to be much better than Abbey at bringing the people out of their shells. He mixed flattery with genuine curiosity in a very effective manner. Abbey was impressed.
It was almost dusk when they regrouped and compared stories with the rest of their crew. The tales were remarkably consistent, but the others hadn’t had any luck getting the details on what had been stolen, either.
“That isn’t uncommon,” Gideon told them. “They think allowing their valuables to be stolen shows weakness. They’re ashamed.”
Abbey wasn’t so sure about that. She’d sensed something else in the villagers. Suspicion.
“Could it be they just don’t trust us yet?” Abbey asked. “Maybe if we spent more time with them…”
“We only have seven days,” Syd reminded her. “We’re not spending it all here. There has to be something else. Something we missed.”
“There is one other thing,” Dustin said. “It doesn’t seem important, but—”
“Say it,” Syd prompted.
“One man we spoke to lives at the bottom of the hill where the archers hid. He claims to have heard them yell something as they left. ‘Tubor ginger.’” He looked at Abbey for confirmation.
“Yes, that’s how he said it,” Abbey said. “’Tubor ginger.’ Or ‘to bare ginger,’ maybe?”
Fannar looked up suddenly, his eyes filled with light. “To Baer Gigur?”
Dustin shrugged. “Maybe.”
“I’ve heard this kind of thing before,” Gideon said. “The rebels seemed to have developed code words. Indecipherable nonsense.”
“It’s not nonsense, you idiot,” Fannar growled. “It’s ancient Barskall.”
Gideon’s eyes widened. “You speak it?”
Fannar paused. “Not really. I don’t think anyone does. The common tongue came to Barskall many generations ago, same as the Kaldfell Peninsula.”
Olaf rolled his eyes. “Great, thanks for bringing it up then.”
Fannar ignored him. “A few words survived.”
“Including Baer Gigur?” Abbey asked hopefully.
Fannar nodded. “I’ve never heard the two words spoken together, but I know their meaning. Baer is a farm usually, but it could be a very small village. A collection of homes, perhaps.”
Gideon squinted at Fannar. “And Gigur?”
“Gigur means crater. Or valley. Any low place.”
Dustin scratched his beard. “So Baer Gigur means crater town?”
“Yes. Basically,” Fannar confirmed, “he was saying ‘to crater town.’”
“Their next target, perhaps?” Gideon wondered.
“No,” Abbey said. “He wouldn’t be talking about their next target in the middle of the fight. Baer Gigur is their home. He was telling them to go back home.”
A slow smile spread across Gideon’s face. “I have an idea where we can start looking.”
Chapter Eight
“Think they’ll ever get tired of staring down at us?” Melwin asked.
Benjamin gazed at the pillars of stone and the guards standing on top of them. They never seemed to take their eyes off The Foggy Day. “It appears they will not.”
It had been three days since Abbey, Syd, and their team left with the Stone Shaper Gideon. The crew aboard The Foggy Day was getting restless as they waited to learn their fate. In four days either Syd, Abbey, and Dustin would return triumphant or the Stone Shapers would kill them.
And that was assuming the Stone Shapers kept their word and waited.
Even if Syd and the crew succeeded in stopping the rebels, what then? Would Chief Magnus really allow them to leave with their Queen of Storms?
Seemed unlikely, yet that was the hand they had been dealt. They had to play it out.
He took one last look at the pillars of stone, the constant reminder of the power of their captors, then turned away from the water.
“I’m going to go check on her,” he told Melwin. There was no need to clarify who “her” meant. Benjamin had been compulsively checking on Dahlia ever since Syd and the team had left. She may have been constantly sedated, but Benjamin wasn’t taking anything for granted. There was no way Dahlia was going to escape on his watch.
“Benjamin, some of the crew and I have been talking,” Melwin said.
The blacksmith stopped. He couldn’t imagine anything good was going to come after that statement. “That so? What have you been talking about?”
“They think—well, we think, really—that maybe keeping Dahlia sedated belowdecks is just delaying the inevitable. We’re going to kill her eventually. Capta
in Syd promised as much. Why wait?”
Benjamin tilted his head. “Like you don’t know?”
The Stone Shapers had sent Edvard every day to check that Dahlia was still alive, and they’d been absolutely clear about what would happen if she was not.
The seven-day reprieve would be in effect only as long as the Queen of Storms was breathing.
Melwin took a step closer and spoke softly. “You have to admit we have a point. This Chief Magnus has sent our best people to some far-flung part of Gren on a hopeless mission. Even if they do make it back here, there’s no way they can find and capture a rebel force in that short of a time period.”
Benjamin’s words came out as a growl when he spoke again. “These are the people who stopped Thunderclap. Who killed Tor. Who defeated the Barskall fleet. Tell me again what they can’t do?”
Melwin sighed. “We have to be realistic. If we wait until the seven-day deadline, it’s going to come down to a fight. I can’t see any way we’re winning in that scenario. But if we quietly prepare the ship and wait until the winds are right, I’ll bet we could slip out of this harbor at night. We can catch the men on the pillars off-guard if we’re fast. And we can travel without a Storm Caller if we—”
Benjamin grabbed the man’s arm, cutting him off. “Are you suggesting we leave our captain, our Storm Caller, and my daughter behind in Gren?”
“You have to understand—”
“I really don’t. We will get out of this. All of us. I’d strongly suggest you drop this line of thought and not revisit it. Please pass my feelings on to the crew. If I have to do it myself, things might get bloody.”
He glared at Melwin until the man looked down.
“Benjamin!” The voice came from the man guarding the gangplank. “It’s Edvard.”
The blacksmith gave Melwin one more hard look and let go of his arm. He marched to the gangplank, cursing under his breath the whole time.
This was the last thing he needed. He was already angry from Melwin’s suggestion that they make a run for it, and now he had to put up with that arrogant Stone Shaper Edvard? It was going to be a struggle to keep his temper under control.
Edvard was climbing the gangplank by the time Benjamin reached it. He wore the easy smile of a man who thinks he’s in complete control of the situation.
“Good morning, Benjamin. How’s Dahlia this morning?”
Benjamin took a deep breath and forced a conversational tone. “I was about to go check on her myself. Care to accompany me?”
Edvard always boarded the ship alone. Magnus could have sent men to accompany him, but to Benjamin it came off as a power play. By only sending one man, he was subtly showing that even a single lowly guard had nothing to fear from The Foggy Day.
Benjamin led Edvard belowdecks to where Dahlia laid snoring softly on the mat that had been her home for nearly a week now. They watched her for a few moments, and when Edvard indicated he was satisfied they went topside again.
Benjamin showed him back to the gangplank, hoping to get him off the ship as quickly as possible, but Edvard paused before descending.
“I wonder about the long-term effects of the potion you’re giving her. Do you think such prolonged usage could damage her somehow?”
Benjamin hoped it damaged her. He hoped it wrecked her mind to the point where she couldn’t speak let alone stormcall, but he wasn’t about to say that.
“I’m no apothecary, but I’m told it’s safe.”
“Let’s hope so. If the Queen of Storms isn’t presented to Chief Magnus safe and sound of mind at the end of this, he’ll kill you all no matter how your friends do with the rebels.”
Benjamin felt his anger rising again, and he didn’t care enough to stop it “You make a lot of demands.”
Edvard shrugged. “Chief Magnus is used to having his demands met. His enemies know what happens if they are not.” He gave Benjamin a sly smile. “Most of them do, anyway. The others soon learn.”
“Yeah? Why don’t you tell me?”
“So many things. You have no idea what we can do.” He opened his hand, revealing the round stone. His eyes turned black, and the stone shifted, transforming into a rough approximation of a ship. He slammed his hand shut, flattening the stone ship.
Benjamin opened his own hand, showing the empty palm. “Perhaps you aren’t the only ones who can do things.”
Suddenly the smith’s eyes glowed black and a fireball appeared in his hand.
Edvard took instinctive step away from the fire, surprise clear on his face.
“You’ll find The Foggy Day is full of surprises,” Benjamin said. “Let’s hope you don’t have to see the rest of them. Now get the hell off my ship.”
Edvard recovered his composure, but he kept his eyes fixed on the fireball. “Fine. Until tomorrow, then.”
With that, he turned and hurried down the gangplank.
When Edvard was gone, Benjamin turned and saw that the sailors on the deck were all staring at him with wide smiles on their faces.
“That was badass, blacksmith!” Melwin called from the quarterdeck.
“No it wasn’t,” Benjamin muttered quietly. “It was damn stupid.”
Now that the Stone Shapers knew at least one man on The Foggy Day could do magic, they’d want to take the measure of him.
* * *
“Are we absolutely certain we haven’t checked this valley before?” Olaf asked. “Because to me it looks a lot like the last eight.”
Gideon, Abbey, and Syd were hunched around a log, carefully studying a hand-drawn map.
“I’m absolutely certain,” the Stone Shaper said. “Last time I set foot in this valley was years ago when I was mapping this area. At that time, the rebels weren’t even raiding yet.”
It was their second day exploring the remote valleys in the region north of the Tall Grass Raiders’ most recent attack. Working under the assumption that Baer Gigur was a description of their home base, they’d been able to narrow their search considerably.
Still, according to Gideon’s map, they still had a lot of territory to cover, and not a lot of time to cover it.
The Stone Shaper seemed positively giddy. In his long years of searching, this was the best lead he’d managed to dig up.
Abbey stood up and stretched. They’d been walking for six hours already, ever since sunrise. They’d left their wagon and horses at the nearest road and hiked into the valley on foot.
“We should keep moving,” she said. But even saying the words, she felt the pointlessness of them. How long would they keep wandering around in the woods? She had no answer, but she also didn’t have any better ideas.
From the top of the valley it had looked like this place was pristine, but they had to check it anyway. The rebels may have built their homes down among the trees.
Gideon led the way as he always did. Abbey hung back a little, letting Viktor and Dustin pass. The two Storm Callers had been inseparable for the past two days, spending most of their time in quiet but intense discussion.
They walked along a thin trail that looked like an animal path. The undergrowth was sparse enough that they were able to comfortably walk two-by-two.
Abbey waited until Syd reached her and fell into step beside her friend. “What do you think about all this?”
Syd shook her head. “Seems like a damn waste of time. I don’t care about these rebels or Chief Magnus. The two can fight each other until the sun burns out for all I care.”
“I get that. But these guys are raiding villages. We can’t let that go on.”
Syd gazed up into the trees. “This is going to sound cold, but I honestly can’t bring myself to care much right now. Being so close to my brother and not being able to see him…it’s killing me.”
Abbey didn’t know how to respond to that. On the one hand, she understood. If Abbey’s father had been taken, finding him would have been her top priority too. But even when Benjamin had been falsely imprisoned, they’d taken the time to help a
village fight off Barskall warriors.
Fannar’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Syd, Abbey, over here.”
He was standing a little way ahead of them, a few feet off the trail, staring at something on the ground.
Abbey glanced ahead and saw that the rest of the party had disappeared around a bend in the trail.
She and Syd hurried over to Fannar. Syd saw it first. “Holy shit.”
Then Abbey saw spotted what they were looking at.
It was an arrow, and it was lying on top of the grass—meaning it hadn’t been there long enough for the grass to grow around it.
An archer was either in the area, or had been very recently.
Fannar stared off into the woods ahead of them.
Abbey started to call out, but the Barskall put a hand on her shoulder.
“They are close,” he whispered.
A sound like the twang of a bow string split the air. Gideon and Clemens cried out in what sounded like pain.
Abbey, Syd, and Fannar dashed forward to help their friends.
They went around a bend and almost crashed into the rest of their party.
“Get us the hell out of here,” Clemens said in a quiet but urgent voice.
Clemens and Gideon were tangled in a large net made of hemp. Viktor, Dustin, and Olaf were cutting at the netting, trying to free them.
Fannar drew his seax and hurried over to help.
In a few short minutes, they’d freed their friends.
“Gideon, I’m starting to think this valley might be Baer Gigur,” Abbey said with a smile.
Gideon scanned the ground with his eyes. He’d dropped the round stone when the net snared him. “I think that’s likely, though it’s possible they’ve moved to a new location and the booby traps are old. Or this could be a hunter’s snare. Ah, here it is.” He bent down and picked up his rock.
“What could a hunter be trying to snag with a net that big?” Fannar asked. “Other than a human, of course. Besides, we know someone was here recently.” His eyes scanned the trees around them.
“If they’re here, they have us at a distinct disadvantage,” Syd said.