The Labyris Knight
Page 37
A loud snapping, splintering sound cut through the air and the whole deck shifted beneath the pirate, making him slide across the rotting wood beneath him. Horatio and Cornelius spread their legs wider to compensate for the movement, their tails reaching out instinctively to curl around the support posts of the ship they were on. The Scintarn hounds’ claws skittered and scrabbled across the deck, one of them even slipping on the algae coated surface.
Miguel froze where he lay, waiting for the shaking and groaning reverberating through the wrecks to stop. He rolled onto his knees and slowly got to his feet, staring back along the bridge of wrecks to the scaffolding and noticed that one of the ships had moved out of line and was coming free. If the fragile bridge broke apart, the wrecks could all split away, sending ships crashing into each other or floating away from the hub completely. With a growing horror, he watched a mast explode, a chain snap and felt the tell-tale tremors rushing through the structure. He needed to get off this thing as soon as possible.
Turning to run, Miguel bumped back into his lizard bodyguards, who were still intent on walking down the bridge towards the archway, whether the ships threatened to tear apart or not.
“Come on!” Miguel snapped. “Get out of the way! This whole thing is going to go! We have to get back to the hub as fast as we can.” He pushed against Horatio’s scaly chest and realised he would have more luck trying to move a tower block! The lizard looked at him with cold eyes and allowed his long tongue to slip out of his tooth-filled maw and pull the seaweed into his mouth where he chewed it menacingly.
Another crack, loud as thunder signified something larger had broken free down the line and then, with a series of sickening lurches, the whole bridge of wrecks came apart. Miguel was thrown to one side, bashing his head again as the deck listed sharply beneath him, his feet slipped on the wet surface and he found himself sliding towards the edge. His hand reaching out, desperate to grab something to stop his slide but everything was slimy, slick and treacherous. Chains cracked and ropes snapped as the wreck swung free, sea spray flooding over the side and threatening to take the vessel under.
The swirling waters gurgled hungrily as the buccaneer slid uncontrollably towards them. He watched his approaching doom but was powerless to do anything. The surface of the water broke as a long grey eel slipped by, eyeing him with a deep black pupil the size of a dinner plate. It continued to circle, searching for a feeding opportunity just like the one now being offered. Miguel screamed out, terrified at the prospect of feeling the teeth of the creature slicing into his flesh, of seeing his life blood gush out to stain the water a murky crimson.
Something grabbed Miguel’s foot. Stopping his slide and causing him to scream again, this time in surprise as much as in pain. Something sharp had pierced his boot, puncturing skin and causing needles of red-hot pain to rush up his leg. He tried to focus on his leg through the haze of pain and looked back up the deck to see one of the Scintarn hounds had grabbed him around the ankle, obviously now determined to eat him. The second Scintarn was jumping up and down, not sure if it should leap in, clearly excited at the thought of finally consuming something it had been following all day.
“Horatio! Cornelius! For pity’s sake! Help Me!”
The second Scintarn decided to lunge forward, mouth open, strings of sticky saliva adorning its muzzle. Miguel closed his eyes, preparing for the worst, only to hear what sounded like an avalanche of chain sliding noisily across the deck and thundering past him. There was a yelp as the chain clattered by, then a mighty splash, as the rusty links slipped over the side of the ship taking the struggling Scintarn with it.
Miguel felt himself roughly dragged back up the deck, his leg shaken violently from side to side as the remaining Scintarn hound worried his foot. A loud crack sounded, like a sap filled log on an open fire, making the pirate assume the worst, that his ankle had been broken but the sound came again and again making him realise he could not be sustaining multiple fractures.
The shaking of his boot stopped and Miguel found himself wrenched further up the deck. He was hoisted into the air, then placed gently back onto his feet by a pair of huge scaled hands adorned with yellowed claws. The broken, battered and bloodied Scintarn hound slid slowly down the ship; its blood streaking the aged wood and marking its passage towards the water. It came to rest at the rail and whimpered pitifully, only to be violently snatched away by the voracious eel and dragged beneath the surface with a mighty splash.
Miguel tried to regain his composure, feebly attempting to brush himself down as he stared at his two lizard companions both testing the air beside him with their flickering tongues and hissing as if they had been asleep for a long time. Could they finally be free from Malum’s evil influence?
The pirate looked back towards the archway as it slowly appeared to be moving away and noticed a sudden flurry of activity as the crew appeared to be running about as if suddenly aware of the horrors that they faced. Men screamed, Scintarns ran around dragging their prisoners to the deck and ripping apart those who dared to resist. Malum clambered down the outside of the scaffolding his tentacles writhing angrily as he sought to regain control of the people about him. One Scintarn leapt at a crewman and slammed him to the floor before raising its head and howling in excitement, gore dripping from its jaws.
Horatio snorted a greeting in Miguel’s direction, the first genuine sound from the lizard he had heard in days.
“Thank you for saving me.” The pirate stammered, still shocked at how close he had come to becoming the eel’s entrée. He carefully placed his weight on his injured foot and tested how strong it was before realising his hench-lizards were looking at him with a clarity to their vision he had not seen in days.
“You both understand me?” he asked, as they hissed and nodded their heads. Horatio yawned before snapping his mouth closed with a sound like a heavy tea chest slamming shut, his teeth chewing on the stringy seaweed like it was chewing tobacco.
The wreck beneath them shuddered as it ran over something submerged in the channel, then started to spin lazily towards the hub. Miguel looked around, scanning the rusting hulks and rotting wrecks for signs of any Scintarns giving chase but they all seemed to be occupied over by the archway. For a brief second the buccaneer questioned how the ships had come to snap loose the way they had. He looked back over his shoulder towards the receding archways and scaffolding, wondering once again where the bolt cutters had disappeared to. After a moment pondering, he shook his head and took in their gently spinning trajectory, noting that it would make them pass under a decaying frigate who’s ragged rigging dangled easily within reach.
“Walk with me.” He ordered, gesturing that the lizards fall into place alongside him as the boom of the frigate moved closer. He took a tentative step, then another, expecting at any moment to hear the alarm, the rush of clawed feet across wooden decks, the howling and exciting pants of hounds closing on their prey.
“The hell with this!” Miguel remarked. “Run!”
* * * * * *
Thomas’s body crashed down onto his bed, flecks of blood splashing from his mouth and nose, his eyes rolling up into his head showing the whites of his eyes. Violetta was instantly at his side, opening his blood shot eyes, holding a lantern near to check for pupil reaction, before parting his lips and noting the fresh bleeding coming from his mucosa and staining his teeth.
“Rauph, do you have any idea what this poison could be?” she snapped. Rauph stood powerless, slowly shaking his head in a daze, fighting his own internal battles, hearing that his mother had poisoned his friend, knowing in his heart there could be no other explanation but wanting it to be anything but true.
“Rauph!” Violetta yelled, trying to snap the Minotaur out of his musings. “I’ll ask you again. Do you know what poison this could be?” Colette entered the cabin behind her, carrying fresh linen, Rowan following closely behind with hot water from the galley and Katarina at her side with a handful of herbs an
d a small metal pot of blackened sticks.
“I can’t think of any.” The Minotaur replied, his eyes filled with hurt. “What do you want me to do?”
“Hold him still for me whilst I examine him.” The cook replied, trying to be calmer this time, her voice edged with authority as she realised that she needed to have the attention and trust of everyone if they were going to pull Thomas through.
“Oh Thomas!” Rowan cried, moving in and softly stroking his clammy hand. “Please come back to us.” The captain started to jerk spasmodically on the bed, his twitching becoming more severe. Rauph leaned over and gently took Rowan’s hand in his, before steering hers away and placing his own huge chestnut hand in its place to pin Thomas’s hands to the bed whilst his other hand clamped down on the captain’s forehead stilling his movements.
“Charcoal.” Violetta gestured to Katarina. “Crush it up and mix it with something so he can drink it.” The cook’s daughter took to the task using a kitchen knife with the skill of someone who had spent a large portion of her life chopping and peeling. The charcoal reduced into smaller and smaller chunks before Katarina tipped the crumbling pieces into a Mortar and Pestle and finished grinding it into a powder. The little girl stuck her finger into the mixture to check it was fine enough then added some creamy goats’ milk and stirred the mixture as fast as she could, turning the white liquid into a dark grey.
Colette looked on with concern and just a little respect in her eyes. She watched how the chef’s daughter moved; selecting herbs with a calculating eye just like the mage would have for her own spell components. Katarina passed them to her mother almost before the chef asked for them. Violetta crunched up some mint leaves and passed a few to everyone standing around the bed, before scattering lavender across the bed sheets and pillow, then she gestured for the charcoal drink.
“Chew the mint, it will help you.” she remarked to everyone. “Rauph, hold Thomas’s head we need to get him to drink the charcoal.”
“Why are we supposed to chew this stuff?” Rauph asked suspiciously as Rowan popped some leaves into his mouth because he had no hands free. Violetta did not stop in her ministrations, gesturing that the Minotaur lift Thomas’s head up slightly from the bed.
“When the smell gets bad, the mint will stop you feeling sick.” Violetta replied as she moved the drink close to Thomas’s blue tinged lips. “Rowan bring that bucket nearer. Rauph, hold Thomas still, we need to get him to drink. Katarina where is the saint I asked you to collect? Go and fetch it please.”
“I can’t get through the door there are too many people in the way.” Katarina replied, heading towards the cabin door but clearly not sure what she was going to do when she got there. Violetta turned towards the door and realised there was a crowd of onlookers trying to catch a glimpse of what was unfolding within the cabin. Her face turned thunderous in an instant.
“Colette, for mercies sake please get the rest of the crew out of the cabin and let me do my work!” The cook exclaimed. “If they are not out of here in three seconds, I shall personally use my chopping knife to gouge out a few eyeballs.” Colette turned with a nod, glad to have something to do and thankful she was not on the receiving end of the chef’s warning. The mage whispered a few words and a jewel at her throat cracked, the energy from the stone flowing into her hand and wrapping around it to glow like fire.
“Get out!” Colette hissed, leaving no room for argument from the onlookers.
The crew moved back reluctantly and with some difficulty, having all edged into the narrow corridor to try to ascertain the state of their captain. Finding the wrath of Violetta and Colette aimed in their direction, they now found they all had to shuffle back against a stream of crew still trying to find a way in and get news! Ashe moved through the struggling flow like a salmon swimming upstream, angling in closer to the doorway, having wiggled between the legs of several onlookers before he finally popped out in front of the crowd only to come face to face with Colette’s icy blue-eyed stare and flame wreathed hand.
“Violetta said to get out.” She warned. “That means you need to leave too.”
“But Colette,” Ashe protested. “I won’t be a problem. What if Rauph or Thomas need me? I can be good. You know I can. Why are you all chewing mint leaves? What in the world is Violetta giving to Thomas, because he appears to be turning a bit green?” A loud retching and a gush of fluid sounded from the captain’s bedside but Ashe could not see what was going on because Colette was standing in the way.
“Just let me through and I…” The Halfling wrinkled his nose as he detected a sharp acrid odour wafting around the cabin. “On second thoughts…”
“Crack the porthole.” Violetta ordered. “Rauph hold Thomas steady he’s going to be sick again…”
“Leave now!” Colette snapped, instantly regretting her cold tone but also recognising the need for it, despite the hurt in her little friend’s eyes. Ashe was already backing away as further vomiting sounds came from the bed, followed by dry heaving from Rauph that sounded like the Minotaur was coughing up something he had swallowed by mistake.
“You know, maybe I should go and feed Sinders. I have left him alone all night and he will be anxious to hear about the Minotaur and the food we had for our meal. I even saved him some seed cakes.”
“That’s a good idea.” Colette replied, offering a tired smile. “You go and do that. Can you also check in with Commagin and ensure he has the watch stand throughout the night. I don’t want us to have any problems atop ship as well as below. It’s very important you tell him this message and that’s why I am entrusting it only to you.”
“A very important message.” Ashe puffed out his chest and nodded his head, liking the sound of that. “I’m going to deliver an important message!” He turned and walked up to the crew still blocking the passageway.
“Excuse me, coming through. Bearer of a very important message here!” Colette couldn’t help but smile as she watched Ashe shove his way through the crowd, his little hand held high before him like a badge of office, then she turned back into the cabin.
“Colette please check Thomas’s pulse.” Violetta instructed. “It was racing earlier but I am hoping it may have settled a bit now he has been sick.” Katarina finally rushed back into the room, holding tightly to a small, carved figurine of the saint that Violetta held so dear.
“Thank you for being so fast child.” She praised her daughter for her cool manner before moving closer and kneeling down at the side of the bed, placing the small carved saint in the captain’s hand before closing her own tightly around his.
“Is there anything I can do?” Rowan asked Violetta as she moved up alongside Colette and touched Thomas gently on the shoulder. “Anything you need fetching… I just feel so useless.”
“There are always things we can all do.” The cook replied sternly. “The candles need maintaining, the bed linen needs changing, Thomas needs bathing and we all need drinks and hot water to hand. Above all, we need to hope that I managed to get as much of the poison out of him as possible before it really took hold.”
“Is there anything else?” Rowan asked, tears running down her face as she stood wringing her hands.
“We pray!” Violetta replied solemnly. “We just pray.”
* * * * * *
Ashe felt proud of himself. He had just delivered the very important message to Commagin. The curt response from the Dwarven engineer was a tad confusing however; Commagin had demanded to know exactly what Ashe thought he, Marcus, Mathius, and another half a dozen heavily armed men were doing out on the deck, in the dark, looking out over the dock. To be honest Ashe had no idea what they were up to, indeed, how was he to know. He wasn’t a mind reader… although it would be a cool trick to learn!
The Halfling headed for the ladder, whistling innocently to himself as he went. Violetta would fix Thomas up in no time. After all, she was helping fix his thumb and it had been completely chopped off! Just having some b
ad food at the banquet was hardly a cause for concern. Although, he had to confess the sight of all the blood and vomit coming out of Thomas had been a tad disgusting. Well better out than in, as his mum had always said when he was ill. He skipped down the passageway and set off towards his cabin, a spring in his step, a song on his lips and a fist full of crumbled seed cake in his pocket. Sinders would be so pleased to have this tasty treat. He would…
The door to Ashe’s cabin was ajar. That was odd. The Halfling popped his head around the doorjamb and realised no one was in the room and that there was a cool breeze blowing in through the porthole. This was stranger and stranger.
Ashe did not like leaving Sinders with the window open, he did not want the bird to catch a chill and Austen had explained that the bird was like a child and was his responsibility. He knew he had not left the porthole open. Then the Halfling noticed the bent and battered cage lying on the floor and his excitement at having a mystery to solve died.
“Sinders?” Ashe called out to the empty room. “Sinders where are you?” He dropped to the floor checking the corners of the room then picked up the cage and poked his face inside the opening; despite the fact he could have easily seen if the bird was there by looking through the bars.
Ashe shook his head, scratching his nose, before shuffling on his knees back out into the corridor and looking to the left and the right, just in case he could spot a ball of scruffy black and white feathers hopping along the floor. However, Sinders was not there.
The first fluttering’s of panic started to rise in the Halfling’s stomach. Where could Sinders have gone? He could not fly yet, so he would not have jumped out of the window… or would he? Maybe Sinders was that upset about his failure to fly earlier that he had gone out of the window to practice? Maybe the bird had been secretly living a double life, flying all along and waiting until he was good enough to surprise his master.
Ashe dragged a stool over to the porthole and clambered up onto it, standing on tiptoe to gaze out into the darkness, his nose just touching the bottom edge of the frame.