Makeda, Owens, and their fellows in the Orcinian cell were clamoring for release that they too might join the battle against the Blackfin and his seawolves.
At first, it seemed to Sydney that Ellie was determined to reach them.
Ellie pivoted a moment later, however, her route blocked when the soldier battles spilled closer to the Orc cages.
Those inside the Orcinian cell proved their mettle too, then; Mr. Owens had caught a passing soldier and held him fast against the bars, strangling him with his other, burly arm. Makeda had stolen the suffocating soldier’s dagger too. The Pod Mother carried over toward the cell door and worked at picking the lock with the dagger. The younger Owens stood by her side, his head on a swivel in protecting watch of any seawolf who might try and stop Makeda from working to free them all.
Sydney saw too that Ellie had moved on from her initial path.
Changing course, Ellie ran toward the clearer route that led to the Merrow cages instead. Drawing her sword as she ran, Ellie hacked at the lock over and again until breaking it free. Then, the brutish Silkie ripped open the door and motioned the Merrows inside to come out.
“Ellie!” Sydney shouted and waved from the king’s pavilion. “Ellie, hurry!”
Her voice was lost to the crowd and battle. Those in the stands were screaming too, the Nautilus filled with the deafening noise of the many, all scattering and fleeing for escape.
Rupert was grabbing at Sydney again too, trying to pry her grip free of the railing and drag her back into the pavilion. “My king!” he cried, shouting all the while. “We need to leave, now! It’s an attack!”
Sydney refused to be yanked away, fighting and clawing to keep hold of the pavilion railing and witness all that unfolded upon the barge. “Ellie! Over here!”
Sydney recognized such hopes for a lost cause when Malik Blackfin came thundering down the scaffolding steps, bellowing commands. His sword rose and fell, slaying any who came to test their skills against his. Throughout it all, Malik called any in the Painted Guard who drew near him to remove their helmets and reveal themselves as friend or foe, lest he run them through without a second thought.
Sydney’s fear overtook her hope, then. “Ellie, run!” She cried to her friend when Rupert succeeded in ripping her away from the rail. “Run, Ellie! Run!”
Rupert shouted over her. “Stop fighting me, Sydney!” He tried and failed to carry her off. “We need to go!”
You need to! She thought, fighting to no avail to buck against Rupert’s attempts.
Sneering, Rupert threw his arm around Sydney and dragged her off toward the Nautilus tunnels.
For all her continued struggle, Sydney kept her gaze upon the battle for the barge and those seeking to flee from the chaos there.
Amelia and her father, Jack Mayfield, were fleeing alongside Ellie, all three of them diving off the barge end. Others too dove into the thrashing white water where another battle raged.
Triangular shark fins had encircled the barge, rising and falling as they sliced through the water. The Nomads below targeted the wounded Painted Guard that were either cast off the barge, or else had abandoned the bloodbath above in search of their own safety. Yet for all the screams and cries for help from the Blackfin’s Orcs, the Nomads in the water left Ellie and the Merrows all unharmed. Each of the newly freed prisoners and their allies dove below, disappearing from those still watching from the stands, or else fighting upon the barge.
A handful of Merrows in half-human form had joined the fight alongside the Nomads in the water too. They flew up and free of the surface with harpoons in hand, flinging them toward their enemies. One nearly found a home in the Blackfin’s throat, the massive Orc dodging it at the last as the harpoon carried on and buried its tip in the shoulder of a Painted Guard lackey behind him.
Like a field general with the presence of mind to adapt amidst the conflict, Malik rallied his forces behind him and then divided his company. The first of those he sent into the water to fend off the Nomad and Merrows there. The rest he bellowed to follow him and stop Makeda from freeing those loyal to her inside the Orcinian prisoner cell.
Even as the Blackfin’s soldiers swarmed their cage, the Orcinian prisoners roared back in defiance.
They’re not going to get away, Sydney recognized when the Blackfin’s soldiers began to retake control of the barge and rallied around those inside the Orcinian cell. Even from afar, Sydney could see the cell door had yet to swing open, and the single dagger Makeda clung to would be meaningless against her brother’s surrounding forces.
Sydney’s thoughts turned to the newly freed and others still fighting in the water, then. Swim away, Ellie. Sydney kept the thought, though she could no longer spot her Silkie friend, nor the Merrows from home that all fled with Ellie beneath the thrashing waves. Swim away and don’t look back!
Even as she continued her prayers for Ellie, Amelia, and the other Merrows to escape, Sydney’s eyes rounded when a slew of towering black dorsal fins emerged in the water, all swimming in perfect formation, rising and falling together.
The Orc pod’s collective screams of echolocation carried over all as the Blackfin’s seawolves swam against the Nomad and Merrow attackers in the water.
Sydney could not see where Ellie and those escaping with her had gone, but the remaining rebels in the water were being swiftly trapped between two sides – the oncoming pod of seawolves in the water, and the Blackfin with his soldiers expanding their perimeter upon the barge.
Despite the odds against them, those loyal to the queen who had remained upon the barge continued to fight. Each showed no signs of retreat, consigning themselves to their deaths in a final stand against the Blackfin and his minions, if only to grant the others like Ellie some precious further seconds to escape below.
Where is Mom?! Sydney’s mind screamed at her to look for Nattie in the tank.
The queen was long gone, however, the water inside the tank where she had been now reduced to a quarter full and already growing still once more. How did she get away? Where did she go?
Rupert’s voice cut through the din. “My king! We need to leave!”
You need to, Sydney thought again, then took a risk by swinging at his face and catching him in the jaw. I need to know where Mom went!
Rupert grunted at the blow, but his grip upon her tightened. Unfazed by her attempt, he yanked Sydney toward him with his full strength. In one fluid move, Rupert knelt and cast her over his shoulder. Rising quickly, he bore Sydney aloft and upended her. His right hand clamped upon her back to steady Sydney too. Then, with his free hand, Rupert drew his sword. “Merrows, with me!” He cried before lunging free of the pavilion. “Protect the king!”
The Merrow soldiers obeyed, all of them swarming around Darius to fend off the crowd as Rupert led them running for the safety of the Nautilus tunnel.
“You three with me!” Rupert called out to several of the Merrow soldiers nearest to him. “The rest stay back to defend the rear and close off the tunnel!”
Fight, Sydney! Her mind screamed at her, adrenaline coursing through her with every step Rupert took. You won’t get another chance!
Sydney wasted her strength in continued fight against Rupert’s grip, kicking as best she could, pounding her fists against his silver armor, and all to no avail.
Just as Sydney did not tire in her fight for freedom, nor did Rupert stop his own efforts to lead her and the king further into the tunnel and away from the threats outside. The Merrow lord did not stop until he, Sydney, and the king were all deep inside the tunnel with the trio of soldiers to protect them.
“Put me down!” Sydney shouted at Rupert. “Let me walk!”
Rupert didn’t listen, heading further into the tunnel. One of his soldiers started ahead of him to lead further in, the others flanking the king.
“Rupert!” Sydney screamed. “Put me down!”
When Rupert stopped, however, Sydney quickly surmised it was not because of her order for him to do so.
Both of the other soldiers who flanked the king had tensed. With their shared focus on a target that Sydney could not see, both Merrows drew their blades without awaiting an order to do so.
Darius too had stopped, his lip curling. “Bring him to me,” the king spat.
Rupert raised his hand to halt the soldiers, even as the other Merrows sprang forward. “No, wait!”
Sydney heard the clashing of blades second later, the grunts and whimpers of a short, but furious fight. Then, there was only silence. What’s going on? What happened?
Rupert slid her free of his shoulder and settled her to ground. Turning, Sydney discovered all three Merrow soldiers laid low. A hooded figure stood over them. Garbed in the stained, raggedy attire of a Selkie slave, the warrior’s blade gleamed of spackled crimson in the torchlight. Though Sydney could barely see the hint of his blazing eyes beneath the lip of his Selkie hood, she felt the fury of one who not be denied his quarry. When the hooded figure looked up that she might recognize him, a voice within Sydney whispered his name as one that she had known would come to save her all along if there were but a single breath left within him.
Quill . . .
* * *
Part V
The Salt Tempest
29
SYDNEY
As his sister, Yvla, had done in the royal stables when coming to rescue Sydney, Quill had draped himself in the simple, hooded garb of a Selkie slave. Had she not known better, Sydney may have even mistaken the deep brown hue of his cowl and robes for a monk from ancient times, a piece of history come alive in the haunted tunnels of the Nautilus. There was no mistaking the bloodied sword in his hand, however, the dead Merrow soldiers at his feet, nor the blazing in his eyes as her true father looked defiantly on those holding Sydney captive.
“Quill!” Sydney called out his name. She attempted to run for him too, but was again caught by the wrist and held back by Rupert.
Quill shook off his hood that the others might better recognize him too. “Let her go, lad,” he growled to Rupert. “She’s not the one your king wants . . .”
Darius stepped forth that he might stand between them. “No . . . she’s not. Still, it seems to me now that I shall never have what I truly desired ever again.”
“As Nattie warned you from the start, if you will remember rightly,” Quill replied to the king. “Do not fault her now for telling you the truth all those years ago and holding to it ever since, Darius. Whatever pity she held for you then is wasted now. You wrong yourself to have ever believed you might come between she and I.”
“Ah, but I have.” Darius spat, yanking Sydney away from Rupert and bringing a dagger to her throat. “I have that shared love between you and Nattie both right here and now, don’t I, savage?” He trailed the dagger’s tip to hover over Sydney’s chest. “Shall I carve out the part of her heart that is half yours first, or the bit that is my traitorous wife’s?”
Quill’s face darkened when Sydney flinched.
Rupert’s armor clanked as he shifted. “My king . . . you said you would let Sydney live if I delivered him here.”
“Quiet, Bowrider!” Darius shouted him down. “I’ll not have you ruin this moment I have long dreamt of.”
Sydney’s gaze flitted toward Rupert, questions in her eyes and seeing the same in his also. You were trying to save me? She wondered when Rupert stepped back, though the knuckles of his armor flexed in strengthening his grip upon the sword at his side. You were going to save me by delivering Quill instead?
Sydney had no chance to wonder further, the king’s blade pressing deeper against her neck. Not enough to pierce the skin, but holding no pretense it should cut deep if she attempted to pull away.
Quill showed the palm of his right hand to the king. “Release her, Darius . . . we both know you won’t harm Sydney.”
“Do we?” Darius asked, his voice breaking. “You don’t think I’ll kill her? Is that it? You don’t think I’ll kill your daughter?”
“Much as you may wish to believe otherwise, I think those hands of yours have never killed anything in your life,” said Quill.
“How, then?” Darius sneered. “How is it you of all people think to know me so well.”
“Because I have hated you nearly all my life, Darius. My hands have slain more enemies than I can count,” said Quill. “And for all of my hatred, for all these old and lingered wounds between us, still I could not bring myself to end your son’s life when the opportunity fell to me.”
Jun? Sydney thought, his face flashing in her mind at the notion of Quill having met her brother. What does he mean?
The king scoffed at Quill’s claim. “You think me for a fool, don’t you? That you would not slay any child of mine? Or that I should ever again believe I fathered any with Nattie, let alone a son.”
Quill sighed. “Indeed, I admit that I struggled to believe you capable of seeding a child too,” he said to the king. “Then again, I suppose even a blunt instrument will serve when given endless time and opportunity. Who else but you to father the precious, Merrow prince with Nattie after you had me locked away in darkness and convinced the world that I were long dead and gone? Or had you not thought of the time I was away and measured those years against the count of your son’s age?” Quill continued when the king did not answer straightaway. “No, then. It seems the only one to play you for a fool was the Blackfin, Your Grace.”
Darius hesitated. “I saw the boy’s body . . .”
“You saw what your pet seawolf wanted you to see,” said Quill. “But today, Your Grace . . . today, I have little doubt the cost of your blindness comes to be paid in full.”
“The only cost of today will be your life, savage,” said Darius. “You didn’t actually believe I would ever harm my love and wife, did you? You think I did not allow your people to venture safely inside that they may save her life?”
“Aye, I believe it,” said Quill. “And said as much to Sydney, once . . . but it was not the queen’s life that I came to save today, Darius.” His eyes shone on Sydney before glinting back at the king. “I want my daughter back.”
Daughter . . . Sydney cued on the word, her eyes welling at the admission from Quill. So, it really is true. Her face warmed at the notion.
Darius stole any happy thoughts away, hugging Sydney closer to him.
She winced when the dagger delved into her skin, producing a trickle of blood down her neck.
“You want your daughter,” the king said to Quill. “And I want my son. If what you say is true and the Blackfin lied to me, then where is your proof? Where is Jun now? Hmm? Where!?”
“In truth, I would not tell you if I knew,” said Quill. “But I have seen with my own eyes that he had a Merrow tail to match your own. I tell you too, Darius, your sweet prince would not last in the realm beneath the waves. Nattie has shielded him to his detriment, I’m afraid, just as your father did for you. The boy is not made for this world you claim to rule over.”
“Ah, but Nattie did not shield Sydney, eh?” Darius flung back. “Your daughter is so different from my son?”
“She is,” said Quill. “And no doubt stronger now from the pain and experience she has endured at your hands. Aye, along with the Blackfin’s torments too.”
“A pair of fools then, you and your savage daughter,” said Darius. “I always knew you should willingly trade your life for hers if given the chance.”
“It seems you have some sense after all, then, Darius,” said Quill, his face tightening as he lowered his blade and then cast it aside. “My life for hers . . . as your Merrow lordling arranged.”
Sydney shuddered in looking at Rupert, her former friend not daring to meet her gaze with the confirmation of Quill’s claim.
“As was arranged,” Darius agreed, even as he kept a firm hold on Sydney. “And if my ears serve me well, I do believe your death comes swiftly, Quill. What better way for a savage to meet his end, then I leave you to the wolves?”
Goose-pimples prickled up Sydney
’s arms upon hearing the marched echo of armored footsteps from afar, all leading in from the Nautilus pavilion. As the footsteps drew nearer, Sydney turned all her focus on Quill instead, studying his face and the scarred over wounds he had sustained when fighting the Orcs in Catcher’s Corner, all so that she and Yvla could escape.
“Don’t,” she said quietly to him. “Please. Pick up your sword! Or run away, now! Don’t do this. Don’t throw your life away for me.”
Quill’s face softened. “It is already done, child. Soon, you will have no more to fear.”
“Careful, Quill,” said Darius. “Wouldn’t want the last words your daughter hears from you to be a lie, now would we? Not from a beloved father who would claim only to ever speak truth to her.”
Quill kept silent as the approaching party arrived.
Tears stung the corners of Sydney’s eyes when Malik Blackfin came to stand alongside the king with his second-in-command, Solomon, and a slew of other Orcs. Blood stained their blackened armor, their faces sweaty and many among them bearing fresh wounds. But, in the Blackfin’s eyes, all that Sydney saw was glee as Malik strode forward.
“My, my, my, what have we here?” he asked. “Could it be the master schemer of today’s events opted to save me and my Orc brethren the time of tracking him down? Decided to surrender himself instead, eh, Your Grace? A rare, noble act from a feral savage?”
“So it would seem,” said Darius. “And he claims you have some crimes of your own to answer for, Blackfin.”
“Well, any lying beast would do, wouldn’t he?” Malik replied. “A Nomad will say anything to win some benefit, or else to create discord when finding himself cornered. Then again, this one is only half-savage, so . . . perhaps some of what he said is true, Your Grace. Depending on the tale he told, of course.”
Darius perked. “My son is alive, then?”
“The pretender prince is most surely dead, my king,” said Malik. “You saw the boy’s body when I laid him before you.”
Salt Storm: The Salted Series: Episodes #31-35 Page 45