Thomas smiled broadly as he followed Colette up towards the main deck, his mind split between the beguiling charms of the brunette-haired woman he had grown so close to after rescuing her and the dangers they were all about to face once he announced the call to General Quarters.
Colette concentrated on the steps she took, one foot falling after the other and felt like a condemned convict walking to the gallows. What Thomas was asking her to do was so dangerous. His happy go lucky response to her justified concerns vexed her. Whether the captain liked it or not, she was the one casting the spell. No matter how he tried to convince her otherwise, if a mistake was made it was on her head and not his.
* * * * * *
“Why is my boat up on stilts?” Kerian asked exasperated, his hands on his hips, his fists clenched tightly at his sides in frustration. “She is supposed to be in the water!”
“Well it’s like this you see,” confessed the shorter one of the two men before him. “We had to get the boat out of the water to plug the holes and check the rudder, which is completely shot and needs replacing by the way.”
“That’s when we found the other defects.” The taller of the two interrupted. “We had to order in parts and they will take at least a week to arrive.”
“A week!” Kerian felt his head would explode as he fought the feeling of wanting to grab both men and show them where he could insert the broken rudder parts within their anatomy. “That’s too long!” He snapped. “Get the Tulip down from there; I’ll take her somewhere else.”
“Well you could take it to Horace’s.” The shorter plumper one commented, running his hand over his bald head. “It’s three days by sea or five over land.”
Kerian’s mouth dropped.
“Are you telling me you are the only shipwrights in Wellruff? That’s ridiculous!”
“Now, now!” The taller and thinner one replied. “Here at Gellions customer service always comes first. We can supply you with a courtesy kayak for the next few days if you want one.”
Kerian spun on his heel and stormed from the boatyard fuming with barely controlled anger. A week! A whole week stuck here! His footsteps and thunderous appearance caused every cat and dog in the neighbourhood to run away with its tail between its legs as he stormed back towards the inn.
This place was so damned crooked! Even the gem merchant had tried to short change him. He had managed to change a few minor pieces but when he haggled on the price of a particularly impressive ruby Kerian had to stop and walk away. The man was going to pay him a tenth of what it was worth.
He was so incensed by what he had experienced in this port town. Everyone was looking to make a fast gold coin. They were all so rude and had an annoying habit of slipping into a local dialect that Kerian found particularly difficult to follow. This made him even angrier as he had a sneaking suspicion the people were talking about him but he could not prove it.
It was so hard to obey the rules instead of swinging a sword, splitting a few skulls and getting what you wanted without any problems at all. Being a hero was harder than it looked and it seemed to be getting him absolutely nowhere. His angry steps stopped in a smelly squelch and Kerian looked down to see the steaming pile of horse manure he had just stepped in. That was it; someone was definitely out to get him. He looked around to find a handy doorstep or raised kerb to wipe his boot on and noticed he was standing at the entrance to the Wellruff market. Maybe some retail therapy would help him clear his mind. He looked around at the stalls about him, his mind sizing up the selections and finding the choice somewhat depressing.
Costermongers selling assorted vegetables of various hues, balanced in precarious displays of geometric design, fought for space against platters of fresh fish, prawns, squid and swordfish. The rich aromas of exotic spices exposed to the air, piled in colours of crimson, mustard and green threatened to overpower the scent of sizzling meat prepared by vendors over charcoal burners then stuffed into pitta breads along with fresh chopped vegetables and creamy yoghurt dressings.
The hustle and bustle around these stands was somewhat staggering as prospective customers dressed in bright clothes buzzed around the stalls haggling prices and bartering sellers down to levels apparently so low that they were depriving food from the merchant children’s mouths. It was like watching a swarm of bees around a hive and it instantly put Kerian on guard. Where crowds gathered, thieves also congregated.
His eyes scanned the crowd for shady individuals as he cautiously moved around the perimeter of the stalls. Walking slowly towards the end of the market, he watched women snatching up silks and holding them around their bodies before angrily dropping them back on the stalls and storming off when prices were disclosed, only to return moments later and haggle again. It seemed a market was a market wherever you were.
A vocal collection of men stood around a corral at the far end of the market, money exchanging hands over the livestock squealing, honking, mooing and clucking within. Kerian wrinkled his nose at the smell but moved closer to see one buyer walk off with three geese complete with rope leads and another with a cage stuffed full of chickens that were apparently the best egg layers in the kingdom. The horse paddock drew his attention, rekindling memories of his stalwart steed, Saybier, cut down in Catterick all those months ago. A lump formed in his throat as he moved closer to view the mares and stallions on display. One handler looked familiar and appeared to know his way around the animals he paraded for the buyers. Kerian looked more closely and confirmed it was the dice player he had noticed fleecing the guards at the inn the night before.
Kerian nodded as the man’s eyes met his and after a moment’s consideration the olive skinned, dark haired individual smiled nervously back, not yet sure how this man knew him. The handler completed his circuit of the ring before leading a prancing black and white horse swiftly back towards the stalls, checking over his shoulder in Kerian’s direction as the observing buyers loudly shouted and waved assorted amounts of currency in the air as they bid for the ownership rights to the creature displayed.
The loud excited voices almost succeeded in hiding the arguing raised voices rising from the stalls, but a loud crash from behind the scenes and several expletives showed that all was not well in the world of horse sales. The end stall shook as the animal within rebelled at being paraded for all to see. The auctioneer shouted angrily demanding the next horse be brought forward, turning to the gathered onlookers and describing the mount as Toledo.
Kerian craned his neck and tried to see over the heads of the men anxious to buy and was quite surprised to see a fresh-faced youth with a swollen left eye backing out from the stalls tugging furiously on the rope around a cream coloured stallion with a jet-black mane and fire in its eyes. The horse stopped frequently, shaking its head, yanking the poor man backwards and forwards before charging, knocking the stable boy flat to the ground before bucking and rearing, hooves flashing through the air as the buyers swiftly backed away from the rails.
Kerian smiled to himself. That was some horse. Someone had obviously mistreated the beast and it was not happy to be near anyone, especially someone who it recognised was scared of it. The animal ran to the far end of the paddock, stopped in a swirl of dust then turned back and charged full pelt at its handler causing the youth to run back into the stalls, the horse charging after him.
The owner of the stall came out of hiding once he realised the horse was back in the stalls and started shouting at the bidders gesturing wildly in the direction the horse had gone. His vocal tone and agitation became louder and more pronounced, as the buyers refused to consider taking the magnificent animal, clearly deciding its rebellious nature was more trouble than it was worth.
Kerian turned away, satisfied that was as exciting as the sale was going to get, his eye now identifying a stall selling baked goods and pastries stuffed with fruits. Now this was more like it. He needed to put on some weight based on his last glimpse at his reflection. He gestured for two spirals o
f glistening pastry flecked with orange and browned sugar and paid the amount without haggling, much to the surprise of the seller.
As he bit into the sticky sweet treat and tasted the cinnamon spice laced through the delicate tart, he happened to look over at a stall selling lanterns. As the stallholder lowered a particularly large lantern for a woman to see, Kerian noticed the look of shock shown on the face of the man who had been observing him through the glass. It was the same olive complexion, the same shoulder length rebellious dark hair. Kerian noticed the dice man’s eyes widen, as he realised that he had been spotted and he turned and ran off through the stalls, his passage marked by the curses and spilt merchandise he left in his wake.
Kerian took one more bite of his pastry and considered the pathway the man was taking. Clearly, he was worried about Kerian recognising him from the haphazard pathway he wove through the crowd. However, there appeared to be no logical reason why the man should feel this way. It was intriguing, the smallest of mysteries, the slightest hint of adventure.
Two tough looking figures moved through the crowd in pursuit of the fleeing dice man, making the unfolding scenario even more interesting. A little voice in Kerian’s head warned him not to get involved but he simply smiled to himself. He had a week to kill in this city. What was the harm in getting to know the locals better?
He slowly moved through the bustling crowds, tackling his second pastry and drawing indignant glances from some passers-by who appeared to find it rude that he was eating his food in this way. Kerian shrugged apologetically and kept up the pace, watching a third figure join the pursuit. Now this man Kerian did recognise. It was the guard he had tipped so heavily at the harbour.
Now everything was starting to make sense. Kerian finished his last pastry, licked his lips and then picked up the pace. This was going to be fun.
* * * * * *
Justina stared down into the scrying bowl, her brow creased in concentration as she tried to decipher the jumble of images within. Golden coins bubbled and slid into each other. Cracked and shattered jewels lay in a pile on the floor like empty husks, signs of someone using magic in vast amounts. There was a sword with the emblem of St Frasier clear to see engraved on the hilt of its blood smeared blade. The images flickered and blurred as if someone was actively trying to make the headband that allowed such communication, to work. It was frantic, the actions of someone desperate to make a connection.
This selection of snapshot images… was that the remains of a dragon? Justina held her breath hoping for more information and noticing that the floor of the treasure vault appeared to be slanted over to one side. Lava bubbled at the far edge of the view. It appeared as if this treasure vault was slipping slowly into the volcano.
Justina tried to calm her thoughts for a moment could she teleport to this location now she could sense the headband? It seemed possible. Maybe with the advice from her familiar she could achieve this.
She turned in a swirl of cloak and headed away from the chamber anxious to collect the required items to manage the spell. There were several elements to consider including the distances involved and the heat when she arrived.
However, the prize, if it remained intact, would be well worth the risk.
* * * * * *
The alarm sounding general quarters rang through the El Defensor galvanising the crew into arming themselves and moving swiftly to their designated positions. Each one of them knew what this alarm meant and the thought of it chilled them to the bone.
Ashe looked out his cabin door and watched the crew moving with determined purpose. He sighed deeply and looked over at Sinders sitting in his cage cracking a nut with his beak.
“Thomas won’t let me go to battle stations.” He confessed to his pet. “He states I make too much noise.” Sinders clicked its beak as if agreeing with the unfairness of it all, giving Ashe the excuse he needed to continue.
“You know we are going into the ship’s graveyard, don’t you?” Sinders trilled and fluffed its feathers as Ashe talked. “It’s very scary in there. There are all these sad broken ships, all slowly being ground up filled with seaweed and treasure. I found a grey pearl on one of those ships you know and there are still so many left to explore. That’s if the Scintarn hounds leave you alone long enough to look. They eat you or drag you to their master who slurps out your brains, but don’t you worry I won’t let anything eat your brains whilst I am around.”
Sinders made another set of clicks and low whistles of encouragement.
“I know you missed the graveyard last time but you were asleep and Thomas made sure we sailed through very fast.” Ashe replied. “Maybe if you are good, we can go out on deck and have a look together this time. If you are really lucky you might see some hounds or the killer giant eels!”
Ashe picked up the cage and set off after the other crew. Austen had told him to be more like Sinders parent. What better way than to share an experience with him!
Chapter Three
The sounds of heavy blows, groans and raised voices around the next corner indicated to Kerian that his pursuit of the olive-skinned dice player was near to an end. He stole a quick glance into the alleyway and confirmed his suspicions before easing back into cover and considering his options.
In the split second he had observed, he noticed the dice man up against the wall, receiving several blows to the face and a knee to the chest. Three against one were okay odds when armed but this man, despite his muscular arms and well-developed torso appeared to be allowing the three men to pummel him and was not putting up any attempt to defend himself. The alleyway itself, was a dead end, terminating in a tall fence covered in flyers and notices blocking the passage onwards. This fence was clearly an attempt by the authority of Wellruff to prevent shoppers entering or leaving the market district in any way other than by the main entrance and exit, helping to maintain the smooth flow of foot traffic and security, whilst focusing customer attention on the stalls and assorted wares sited along the thoroughfare behind him.
Kerian shook his head as his conscience pleaded for him to step in and save the day. His brain however, suggested that the dice man had probably brought this on himself and not to get involved. He sighed as he realised that he now had no weapons. His dagger was burnt to a crisp in Catterick, his sword was now in the care of Colette. The other dagger he had owned for just a short time was lost deep inside a dragon’s treasure trove in an active volcano and he was glad to be rid of it. He had the reflective circular shield strapped to his back but it was useless in a situation such as this. The chances of hoping the three thugs were vain enough to stop and examine their reflections, whilst Kerian whisked their victim away, was a scenario as unlikely as the Tulip being repaired by the end of the week!
He looked around for inspiration and noticed the stall next to him had an awning along which the stallholder had hung row upon row of cooking pans, pots and utensils on display to his customers. Kerian reached out, grabbing the wooden brace supporting the main beam and snatched it away, sending the cooking implements clattering to the floor in a giant heap as they slid one by one off the end.
The shop seller yelled out in fury but Kerian decided he could always make good later and turned to the more important task at hand. The salesman would be too busy right now trying to stem the continuing flow of utensils from falling to consider pursuit.
With a deep breath and a twirl of the staff in his hand, Kerian walked calmly into the alleyway and leaned against the wall to watch the show. The burly attackers hardly noticed his arrival, intent on beating the man before them. One held up a mop of dark hair whilst the other threw a left hook that rattled Kerian’s teeth, let alone the intended target. Kerian winced as another blow landed, then watched as the guard drew a dagger with a wicked gleaming edge, his angry face confirming he was about to resort to a more permanent resolution to the one-sided discussion he had been having with the man lying at his feet.
“Excuse me!” Kerian opene
d, deciding he had seen enough. “I don’t suppose you know the directions to the Lusty Mermaid? Some kind soul gave me directions last night but I’ll be damned if I can find it.”
The guard turned towards Kerian’s voice, his face a mask of anger that suddenly registered, then recognised, the man talking to him as his recent benefactor. The look on the thug’s face spoke volumes. He knew who Kerian was and instantly knew that he could identify him for the crime he was about to commit. He gestured to one of his colleagues and pointed towards their unexpected witness, as his other associate piled in another round house blow, rocking the head of their dark-haired victim back into the wall with a grunt.
“Shut him up!” the guard snapped, before turning his attention back to the man at his feet and waving his dagger menacingly. “Give me back the money you stole from me last night.”
Kerian moved away from the wall, setting his feet apart as he sized up the approaching threat advancing towards him. The man was heavy set and walked as if he were wading through water. His shoulders were wide and his biceps bulged beneath his tan tunic as he moved. Dark eyes peered menacingly from below a thick set brow. Kerian tried not to smile as the man huffed towards him fists clenched. He waited until the hired heavy closed in then snapped the staff in his hand up hard between the man’s legs. Kerian tried not to laugh as the face before him transformed from someone wishing him harm into someone who looked deeply surprised.
As the air and the intention to do harm rushed out of the man, Kerian whipped the top end of his staff down between the man’s bulging eyes rapping him hard on the forehead and sending him crashing to the floor. This was almost too easy. He stepped forwards towards the remaining two assailants battering the dark-haired man to the floor, intent on drawing another one of them away from their hapless victim. As he brought the staff down to tap the unknown bully on the shoulder Kerian glimpsed a flash of a bright blue eye from beneath the beaten dice man’s bushy bloodied eyebrow. There was a low snarl as the wanton thug whirled to face him, just as a large meaty hand came down and grabbed the edge of the shield at Kerian’s shoulder.
The Labyris Knight Page 5