The Labyris Knight

by Adam Derbyshire

  Another crash snatched her attention to a metallic creature being hauled over the side of the ship’s rail, then Ashe and finally… was that Barney? All of them herded into the remainder of crew gathered upon the deck. Rauph was hobbled, his head pulled over to one side his horn tied to his back leg, his arms trussed to the same line. He looked so sad and dejected a far cry from the happy Labyris knight he had been mere hours before.

  Weapons clattered onto a pile, Rauph’s swords, Commagin’s crossbow, Mathius’s daggers all discarded, together with other weapons assembled following the aftermath of the skirmish. A monk dressed in the same robes as Marcus scrambled back onto the deck, clutching a huge blue ledger in his hands as if he were worried it would be snatched away from him.

  Marcus thudded onto the deck, senseless, his face a mass of bruises, blood dripping from his lips. Richard remained, standing outside of the circle, his face red and blistered his hands clearly burnt. He also held a blue ledger, this one damaged by the same conflagration that had seared his face and hands. Marcus’s book, Colette surmised. She looked back at the crushed monk taking a moment to notice his breathing, spiking fears he had also fallen in battle but Marcus appeared to be made of sterner stuff and a laboured wheeze issued from his lips. It was a minor gain, for everywhere she looked the crew showed the signs of crushing defeat and it was breaking her heart.

  “My skiff is dead in the water.” A figure stated climbing over the rail after the monk. “Whatever power it once had has gone.” He threw a dirty rag down onto the deck in disgust, then walked over to his two lizards, one nursing its head, the other angrily hissing at anyone that came near, clearly unhappy and apparently missing it’s hat from all of the angry gesturing.

  Miguel Garcia. Colette recognised him and shook her head in disgust. What was that pirate doing here? Miguel paced up and down impatiently before he stopped in front of them and addressed the remains of the crew.

  “Where’s Thomas?” he demanded. Colette gasped, turning around rechecking the crew, scanning the faces, realising that the captain was not among those collected here.

  “He was up on the arch the last time I saw him.” A voice sounded across the deck. Colette looked up and noticed the sorceress walking towards them, her robes swishing around her. “Maybe he fell.”

  “If he did, then he is dead.” Came a dry voice, as another figure walked up alongside Justina to stand at her side.

  Colette’s eyes widened when she recognised the golden dagger openly displayed at the man’s waist, her eyes moving up to take in an Elven face, all be it one drawn and aged since she had last seen it. Her blood turned to ice in her veins. Scrave.

  A voice hailed from the side of the ship calling up to those on board. Knights moved to the rail and helped haul the stranger up. Colette glimpsed a mass of wild black curls, olive skin and a dazzling smile that fell the second he turned around and took in the crew kneeling on the deck.

  “Oh.” Was all he had time to utter, before he was ushered in amongst the group and forced to his knees, his saddlebags dropping to the deck beside him. “I’m not one of the crew honest.” He muttered but no one seemed to care. He turned to Colette and flashed her a nervous grin.

  “You must be Colette.” He whispered. “Gods, you are as beautiful as Kerian said you were. The stars must have shone brighter on the night you were born.”

  “K…Kerian?” Colette whispered; her throat suddenly dry, her face flushing as guilty images of her kiss with Aradol flashed through her mind. “How do you know Kerian?”

  “We have been travelling together for months. He was determined to get back to you. He said he would never give up hope and now that I have seen you with my own eyes. I can understand why.” He flashed her another smile then looked around the deck. “Where is he anyway?”

  “What do you mean?” Colette frowned. “Is Kerian here?”

  “Well he was in the boat with me and then he said he had to come to you so he climbed up the archway and…” Octavian looked up at the sky and the gaping hole in the arches that was all that remained of the gateway the El Defensor had sailed through. “You don’t think he was up there when that all fell do you?”

  * * * * * *

  “I cannot keep my knights out of the book indefinitely.” Al Mashmaah’s bearer paced the captain’s cabin, his blue ledger under his arm. Scrave looked up at Kaplain from the captain’s chair, his boots crossed and resting on Thomas’s desk, a cut crystal glass with a snifter of orange liqueur in his hand.

  “Neither can I,” Richard replied, whilst tightly bandaging his burnt hand. “They are magical beings for holy crusades, not simple prison guards.”

  “What about the black hounds?” Justina dipped her finger in Scrave’s glass and licked the tip of her finger provocatively. “They are still stalking us, taking those crew of Garcia’s who are no longer under the thrall of that glowing creature with the tentacles.”

  “They appear to have become confused since the arch fell. Most of them ran off and are hiding in the wrecks. We cannot send the knights into that unstable area in the hope we flush them out. They are too busy guarding the El Defensor’s crew.” Miguel replied, clearly not impressed with the direction of the talks, his eyes constantly glancing down at where Scrave sat.

  “Which brings me back to my first point.” Kaplain interjected. “The knights cannot remain outside of the book indefinitely. What are you going to do with the crew?”

  “Let’s just kill them all.” Justina suggested, leaning forwards across Scrave to reach for the bottle.

  “We can’t.” Miguel replied. “We need them to get us out of here. My cyborg Pheris is broken and the only way we can open a gate is by using Colette’s magical powers and sailing the El Defensor out of here and that is a problem in several ways. Firstly, I have no idea where the archway is to take me back to Maraket, nor do I have any idea how to identify it and secondly she refuses to work her magic for us.”

  “Maraket… I want to go back to Catterick not experience more trouble. I am sure that given enough time I can figure out how to open the gate.” Justina purred. “But you are also forgetting the gypsy. He can open gates by playing his violin. We have witnessed this first hand.” She nodded towards Kaplain and traced a finger across the back of Scrave’s neck making him bunch his shoulders.

  “What about the knights?” Kaplain stated again, his temper rising. “We need to do something with the knights.”

  “Why don’t we maroon the crew of the El Defensor in the graveyard and just take the gypsy or Colette with us. Let the hounds have them. That way at least the poor creatures won’t starve.” Justina suggested.

  “Leave an enemy alive in your wake.” Scrave muttered. “That is not my way.”

  “Lock them in the brig then.” Miguel stated, clearly growing frustrated and wanting to raise his own topic for discussion.

  “Not with that Halfling.” Scrave replied. “We tried that in the past and he escaped. I have yet to find a cell that can hold the irrepressible Ashe Wolfsdale.”

  “So we can’t lock them in the brig, we can’t maroon them and we can’t kill them.” Richard stated exasperated, his hands tapping impatiently on his book. “What is more, I’m not even sure my knights will return to my ledger.” He ran his bandaged fingers over the damaged surface of the book. “I don’t even know if it is safe for them to go back inside.”

  “Well that’s easily remedied then.” Scrave added, shaking his head. “Has anyone got something they wish to say that will not add to the list of our problems.”

  “I was wondering when you would get out of my seat.” Miguel suddenly snapped. “You promised me that I would be allowed this ship if I got you on board. I have kept my end of the bargain. Now do me the service of keeping yours.”

  “You should know better than to trust an Arnreithian Elf.” Scrave stated coldly. “If you want this chair why don’t you come and take it.” Garcia paled as the golden serpent in Scrave’
s lap hissed its enthusiastic opinion on the matter.

  “You gave your word.” Miguel muttered, clearly wounded by the betrayal. “You are using my crewmen to patch up the ship. All I need to do is say one word and they will down tools.”

  “And if they do, I shall take pleasure in killing them all.” Justina snapped. “So I lied! Get over it.” Miguel looked across at the dark witch and then at the confident smile plastered on Scrave’s face and backed away. He knew a bad hand when he saw one and at the moment, he had nothing he could even bluff with, despite the fact his fingers itched to pull out his duelling pistols and shoot both of these traitors in the head at point blank range.

  “I will get you all home.” Scrave stated calmly, settling back in the chair and kissing Justina’s hand. “Colette will help us or the gypsy will, it matters little to me. It is only the El Defensor I am concerned with. This ship has always been my destiny and she will sail where I tell her. After all, I am her captain now. This is where I was born to be.”

  “So what about the knights?” Kaplain sighed.

  * * * * * *

  “How long do you think they are going to keep us here?” Octavian muttered. “I for one think the on-deck gymnastics thing is going a bit far. If I ever bring my hands down from my head, I think my shoulders may snap in protest.”

  “Were you like this every day when you were with Kerian?” Colette enquired. Octavian nodded his head. “Then it’s a wonder he didn’t kill you.”

  A ripple of silence crossed the deck as the doorway to the upper cabins opened and the five ringleaders stepped out onto the deck. Colette let her gaze run over them, noting the scowls on Garcia’s face, the sly smile on the witch and the indifference shown by the others.

  Scrave walked forward and addressed the group.

  “There is a problem that affects us all.” He opened. “The El Defensor is stranded in this inhospitable place unless we can find a safe port to affect repairs. Miguel’s crew are doing the best they can but we can only go so far with the manpower we have. I need volunteers to help repair the ship.” Not a single member of the cowed crew moved to assist and Colette smiled despite herself.

  “How about you Colette. We need you to power the archways. Will you join me.” He held out his hand. The mage looked up into his one eye and shook her head.

  “I will never aid you Scrave. You were a snake when you were a crewman on this ship and you remain a snake now. Thomas Adams is my captain, it is his orders only that I obey.”

  “That’s an unfortunate and rather narrow viewpoint.” Scrave commented. “You see we really don’t need you anymore. We have someone else that can open the gates.”

  “I’d like to see you try.” Colette spat her defiance. Scrave motioned with his hand, ignoring her bluster and indignation.

  “Grab that one.” he motioned, “and bring his saddlebags.” Octavian looked up as the two surly giant lizards stomped across the deck towards him.

  “You want me?” He asked pointing to his chest. “I knew this all had to be some huge mistake.”

  “You can open the gateways?” Colette stared crestfallen at her gambling chip being so easily pulled from her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Well we haven’t really got acquainted yet.” Octavian replied before he was jerked to his feet.

  “Is the violin still in your bags?” Scrave enquired. Octavian nodded, only for his bag to be pulled apart and his belongings dumped upon the deck.

  A shriek and a scuffle sounded as a knight climbed up from below decks, moving into view holding Katarina by the scruff of the neck. He roughly threw her down at her mother’s feet and she hugged her fiercely.

  “Oh Kat, why did you not stay hidden.” Violetta whispered, holding her tightly clearly fearing for her daughter’s life.

  “I had to be with you.” Katarina whispered back. “I did all that I could to help Marcus.” She pushed the small magical saint into Violetta’s hand, then sat down alongside her, her little face pale and frightened.

  “What are they going to do to us?”

  “I’ don’t know dear.” Violetta squeezed her daughter’s arm tightly. “Just remember I am never going to leave you. No matter what happens.”

  Scrave paced about the deck clearly unhappy with the lack of support shown to his request.

  “I want you to know that I commend your loyalty to your old captain.” He shouted. “Just remember, whatever happens next, you brought this on yourselves. Brother Richard, if you don’t mind.”

  Richard knelt down on the deck and squared the book before him, sitting back on his heels, closing his eyes and chanting as he opened the burnt ledger. The page yawned wide exposing the heavily detailed illustration of the cell within, the edges of the page blackened and warped by the fire. He waved his hand across the page, invoking a mystical phrase unknown to anyone but Marcus who groaned as he heard the ill-fated words.

  “This is going to be interesting.” Justina smiled, cosying up to Scrave, her hand hovering near his waist, only for the Elf to bring his own down to guard his golden dagger and push hers away.

  “Let Colette be the first.” Scrave ordered, angry at her rebuttal. Two knights stepped forward, forcibly pulling her from the crowd and herding her towards the open book. Colette was unclear what was about to happen. She could not understand what they intended to do. If she was being led to her death then she was determined to go with her head held high. She put up a token resistance as she was marched towards the ledger.

  “Put her in.” Justina screamed. Put her in? What in the ledger? Colette’s knees nearly buckled as the terror of the suggestion ran through her mind.

  “Richard you bastard!” She spat. “We took you in, gave you a home and you repay us with this. I swear you will regret this for as long as you shall live.” Her boots skidded across the deck as she was dragged towards the magical tome.

  “Spare me the hysterics.” Richard stated coldly. “If this goes wrong you will be dead in the next few moments. I will definitely live longer than that.”

  “Richard please reconsider what you are doing.” She screamed. “You had a family here, people that loved you.”

  “People that held me back you mean.” The priest replied coldly. The knights threw Colette forwards, she held out her hands trying to stop her fall only for her to find there was nothing to stop her tumble. She screamed as she fell, the magical forces shrinking her down, compacting her size to that of the scale of the cell and suddenly she found herself hitting a cold stone floor. The air blasted out of her as she hit, her head ringing as it took a glancing blow from the leg of an old bunk, a discarded game piece rolled across the stone near to her hand.

  The mage turned about, looking up from where she knelt, taking in the oblong shape above her that was filled with the colour of a dull mustard sky. There appeared to be no way to climb back up to the light, no footholds or ladder to escape with. Richard’s head filled the opening, his eyes staring down into the illustration, straining to see if she had survived the magical transformation. He nodded apparently pleased with the result as further screams of pain and terror echoed down into the book from beatings handled to the El Defensor’s crew.

  Plano dropped down into the cell, his face pale, his eyes wide with shock, his tumble turning into a roll, much more successful and dignified that Colette’s own sprawl. Then Abeline, Austen, Mathius, Rauph, Aradol, the crew kept dropping into the book, filling up the area between the bunks and as each one fell into the room, the magical cell appeared to stretch and grow into the distance to accommodate them.

  Violetta, Katarina, Rowan, then Barney fell in. Ashe, who made sure he bit the hand of the guard that dropped him. The metallic creature Colette had seen being retrieved from the skiff also clattered into the book, wires and cogs spilling from its insides and bouncing across the floor. Finally Marcus was dropped down into the darkness, his fall broken by members of the crew, who gently laid him down on the nearest bu
nk, trying to support his head and limbs as they did so, only to pull their hands away in surprise at how unnaturally cold the Monk’s body felt. Colette tried to remain stoic, remain strong for the crew, even as the gravity of this horrifying situation hit her. She stared up at the opening of the book, shading her eyes as Richard’s face moved back into view.

  “I swear I’m going to get you for this.” She screamed. “If it’s the last thing I do.”

  Richard turned to the people she could not see and she watched as they took it in turns to stare down into the page. She focused on each face, memorising the details, determined to never forget the people that had done this to her and her shipmates. The traitor Scrave with his ominous eyepatch. The dark witch with the malicious smile on her face, Garcia who just wanted to look away and the other priest who appeared to be viewing this as some huge science experiment. Then Richard’s face came back into view and his hand reached up to close the book.

  “Please Richard. Don’t do this.” Colette pleaded as the room around her started to get darker and the opening above her slowly started to narrow. “We cared for you. We loved you.” The fear from the crew became tangible within the close confines of the cell. Voices started to raise in protest, some whimpered, others shouted their outrage putting voice to their distress as the darkness closed in.

  The yellow mustard skyline shrank even further, turning to a thin slit, the crew’s pleas becoming screams of terror as the darkness descended upon them.

  Then Richard closed the book.

  Epilogue

  Kerian fell towards the water, the remnants of the archway tumbling and spinning around him, his body giving the illusion that he was somehow weightless. The air rushed past his ears, teared his eyes and it was all the fighter could do not to struggle. Images flashed through his mind of his youth when he had jumped from the cliffs at his family estate, plummeting down into the crystal blue waters of the bay and hitting the sea, feeling the crushing blow of the water and the air pushed from his body before he shot up towards the sparkling surface much to the amusement of his step-brothers.