21 Seagulls

by ANGELOS KYPRIANOS

  When they retreated a few steps, from one moment to the next, the living wall froze and became a piece of granite once again, plunging the room in total silence.

  “But where…” Mascardi’s question remained unfinished. The sailors that’d fled returned, regretful. Mascardi said nothing to them. He couldn’t criticize them for bolting after something like this; he was just glad they’d returned.

  He lifted the torch again; the flame had survived. They all drew their weapons tentatively. When he was five feet from the wall, it became alive again. Its slaves’ otherworldly cries haunted them again. The wound on Mascardi’s shoulder made him dizzy; his balance was off, but adrenaline was washing through him. He started fighting with his sword against the wall’s arms and their weapons. The crew came to his aid. Their cries filled the room.

  “Slay it!” Odet yelled and all of them rushed at it like demons.

  The wall was fighting them; the awful arms were skillful and had plenty of weapons. There were ten pairs of arms in there, and Baltan’s body made eleven. One arm disarmed Odet and a sword slashed at his stomach. The young man groaned and tried to escape but he’d been pinned down. Ginom, with his dagger, risked his life to reach his side and help him. His back and cheek got scraped, and the next moment, he felt the arms were so many and so fast, that there was no escape.

  It wasn’t an equal battle; heads popped out of every conceivable spot on the wall, looking through their horrific sockets. The warriors’ feet got stuck on the fluids that streamed on the floor from the disgusting wall and its blob of flesh.

  Mascardi lost control again. A shield deflected his blow – he’d never expected seeing one coming out of the wall; he slipped on the fluids and fell. An arm dragged him by his foot, and the next moment, the captain was sucked within the wall. The last thing he heard was his name from Ginom’s mouth.

  Vario rushed forward like a bull. He let out a battle cry that would shame a demon, and crashed on the wall with force, pummeling it with his fists. In a moment of madness, the wall seemed to become thinner and the bodies within it appeared to break. Vario pulled the unconscious captain out of the blob and dragged him on his back, until Ginom pulled them further away, into safety. He was alive.

  Vario remained entangled in the arms. He grabbed his axe and started cutting, slashing diagonally in a frenzy, each time on a different side, chopping at the wall like a log. The voices of the soulless bodies screamed, fluids spattered left and right, and Vario carved a path, thinning the wall further.

  A spear was buried deep in his belly but that didn’t stop him. He cut off the arm that’d wielded it and the weapon clattered on the floor. The others rushed forward and started distracting the rest of the arms. Vario yelled again and cut something that felt like a tendon. When the piece of flesh was severed, more fluid than ever spilled on the floor and the wall started collapsing. A moment later, it started falling like a tower of sand as the voices howled and the arms and legs of the wall waved around, unable to hit or catch anything.

  Vario fell on the floor and his unconscious body rose along with the blob created by the wall’s dead body. It was dead and motionless now, a fence of flesh that lowered enough to reveal the other side of the room. The torch had been extinguished, but the room wasn’t completely dark. There was a glimmer in the dark, countless little shimmers from the overflowing chests of gold further back.

  The unimaginable battle was over, but everyone’s minds would be haunted by it forever. Mascardi suffered from such a shock, that he was nearly unable to take care of the last part of the mission. Vario was better, but his injuries urgently needed Alaoso’s care.

  Without Vario’s help, carrying the load would be hard, but none of them minded the weight. It was a big treasure. Mascardi couldn’t estimate its total worth exactly, but it was surely enough for his plan’s first step.

  After some rest and tending to their injuries, the crew split the burden between them in a fair fashion and started the journey back to the settlement.

  ***

  The journey back was slow and hard. Nevertheless, day by day, the crew’s mood improved, and that veil of horror gradually slipped away from them. They all still thought of the monastery though; during the nights, many cried at the memory of the dismembered knight. Mascardi and the Seagulls had discovered that there were more horrible monsters than they’d originally imagined, and they could be found in the most unexpected places.

  They returned to the settlement days later. Vario and Mascardi were lucky enough to not have their injuries infected. They felt better, both in body and spirit.

  When the two groups of the crew united in one again, they sat at a tavern and exchanged stories. Basco explained to Mascardi what had happened the past few days; the Aquats they’d had to kill and the fact that people were a hair’s breadth away from turning against them. Dizan, however, had done a really good job in presenting them as noble and brave, and he was sure these events could also be polished and become quickly known through music.

  The musician had fallen into a deep state of melancholy after the last events. Slaughtering the tribe of water elves had cost him a part of his soul, and his eyes were permanently shadowed now. He presented the captain with his desire to not use his music again, but Mascardi refused and Dizan didn’t insist. His job had just begun, he said, and they all had played a part in this madness. Baltan knew that better than anyone, he’d added one day. Dizan didn’t argue further after that.

  A few nights later, having left the crew to regain its strength both physically and mentally, the time had come for the next steps to be discussed. Mascardi hadn’t entrusted anyone with his plan because he wanted the first step to be completed before that. Now that this had been done successfully, despite the losses they’d suffered, he gathered Basco, Karil and Dizan in a room to brief them.

  Some objections and suggestions about the gold and its distribution started the conversation, but Mascardi cleared the air quickly.

  “The gold you see isn’t available. A small part of it will be shared between us equally, but the rest is already spoken for.”

  The men couldn’t believe what they heard. “Who is it supposed to belong to?” Karil asked.

  “Is it the king?” Basco asked, equally in the dark.

  “Are you drunk?” Mascardi answered smiling. “We will use this gold to establish our position in Loriax. I have already sent relevant messages to mercenary agencies.”

  “Mercenaries?” Dizan asked and Mascardi nodded.

  “Paper swords isn’t the best thing, but they’re more reliable than pirates.”

  “Barely,” Basco added smiling.

  “But they are, Basco, and we need men.”

  “What’s the plan, captain?” Odet asked with an eagerness that pleased Mascardi. The young man seemed to have grown through the hardships. Even his face looked different, lined and battered. His usual whining had been pulled away like a curtain, and he seemed eager and more alive than ever.

  The captain placed his hand on his shoulder. “The plan remains the same,” he said. “We will claim the islands. All the islands.” He stood up, looking at each of them in turn. “But not for the king.”

  The silence that ensued was electrified. Karil smiled sardonically.

  “We will claim them for ourselves. We will become lords of the islands and Lothen will become the Lion that chases after its tail.” Whistling and cheering followed his words. Karil banged his fist on the table ecstatically; even Basco grinned like a child.

  “We will pay an army to hold the island under our banner. Until the Lothenians realize what’s happening, we will have claimed another, maybe two more islands. We, the Seagulls and no one else, however many of us are left, will claim them. I swear by the blood of the Luvar and the Amar and the Sentinel itself.”

  Karil stood up solemnly. Mascardi bowed his head at him, acknowledging his loyalty. The trusted circle of the archpirates came closer.

  “I will tell the men,” Mascar
di said. “I want them to know where we’re going and what we’re doing. I want them to know that the bards will be singing of us not because I say so,” he looked at Dizan, “but because we will truly become a legendary story. We will make history, brothers. And become rich in the process!”

  More cheers. They howled like wolves, and whoever heard them from outside couldn’t imagine what reason a few killer sailors had for celebrating.

  “There are plenty of islands out there and only the gods know what nightmares haunt them. It won’t be easy. Ginom, though, says that the worst monsters wake up in the winter, and we have enough time to get rid of most of them before fall. If indeed we succeed, then the rest will be easy. We’ll have the army, the power and the land to face whatever Lothen and the gods throw our way!”

  The last words weighed heavily. Karil didn’t like to curse at or challenge the gods and his expression bespoke of it, but the captain’s words played at the strings of his heart and he remained reservedly happy. Odet didn’t seem to be afraid anymore, and all of them experienced an anxious kind of impatience that made them feel more alive than ever.

  They embraced, drank –even Mascardi–, yelled and shared the news with the rest of the crew. A long celebration followed on the island, with the crew genuinely joyous and the residents inadvertently joining them.

  The days passed peacefully on the Island of Thunder and it soon became known that Mascardi Berio was the lord of this place. People greeted him respectfully, and every day, they gazed beyond the cliffs in the north, waiting for new ships filled with mercenaries. Mascardi didn’t need to wait for them before he departed. He wanted to buy time. There were many miles between them and their next destination; the seas were vast and the crew’s moral high enough for them to act and fight as one.

  21 Seagulls –less now– sailed from the Port of Thunder towards new seas, leaving behind a curtain of thunderbolts and the heavy sun sinking behind the cliffs of Loriax.

  The afternoon of their departure, the captain received a strange visit. The dark-haired woman that’d been staring at him in the tavern after the killing of the residents, appeared on the beach just before the ship sailed. Her angered expression had changed, revealing beautiful cheekbones beneath almond-shaped eyes and raven-black hair. She wore a dress and walked barefoot.

  “What are you doing here, lady?” Mascardi asked, chuckling at her sight as the last man boarded the ship.

  “You killed my husband,” she said, but Mascardi didn’t react. Something in her eyes told him he had no reason to worry.

  “I’ve killed many of those,” he admitted, shrugging. “I’m sure one of them will one day kill me.”

  The woman arched an eyebrow; something inside Mascardi fluttered at the sight.

  “It could be a woman who kills you.”

  Mascardi smiled, seemingly agreeing. Behind them, the men jeered and howled like dogs. The woman smiled too. She had many pretty teeth.

  “The men are calling me, my lady. What can I do for you that I didn’t do all this time I spent here?”

  His hair fell in front of his mouth. He knew the effect he had. That woman, though, was closer to his age, beautiful and stronger than the women of Lothen.

  “I want to come with you,” she confessed, and Mascardi hadn’t been expecting that.

  “Why?”

  “Because there’s nothing for me here. You killed my husband. Now, I’m your responsibility.”

  Mascardi scratched his jaw. “I’m not very good at my responsibilities,” he admitted. “Especially in certain departments.”

  The woman wasn’t discouraged. She revealed a small, one-handed crossbow.

  He flinched. “I hate crossbows,” he grunted.

  The woman smiled. “It’s not for you, don’t worry. Now, help me up, captain.”

  Mascardi felt helpless. He couldn’t even think, let alone react. Without meaning to do so, he offered her his hand and helped her on board. She walked with unexpected ease. Standing further up, the men watched incredulously.

  Vario is going to kill me. That was the first thought that crossed his mind, but for some reason, he did nothing. He climbed on the deck after her and removed the board.

  Had the Lover or the Two-Faced Man appeared now? Or had the cards already told their story?

  EPILOGUE

  In his cabin, the captain welcomed old Karil. The old man, grim as usual, sat, and with his body language, demanded the captain sat opposite him. Mascardi accepted the invitation eagerly.

  “I see her in my sleep, captain,” he reminded him, with his eyes shining again with the sheen of sadness and anger. “Damn my seed, Mascardi, you promised…”

  Mascardi raised a hand and interrupted him. “I’ve given you my word, Karil; that doesn’t change. We are already on the way. I don’t know what our destination is, and neither do you, but by Revedon and Theanivar, we will find her.”

  Karil poured himself some rum and emptied his cup in one swig. “By the Mother and the Daughter and their heavy Veil,” he grunted. “All daughters must die.”

  The sentence echoed heavily in Mascardi’s ears. He remembered Vario’s young girl, who fell into the swollen waves as if she were made of air. Sorrow weighed on his heart, but he raised his eyes to Karil.

  “You have my word. It is a matter of a few days. All you have to do is wait and tell me all you see.”

  “By the gods, you think I don’t know?” Karil scolded him. His body stood strong, his spine straight. A primal ferocity had reminded him how to stand.

  “Know this, lad. I will be there in that battle. I will do whatever it takes.”

  Mascardi was shocked. “Are you sure? I thought you’d never use magic again, only the mushrooms and the Cards.”

  Karil poured himself another drink. He drank it more slowly, more calmly, maintaining some of his self-control.

  “This is different. I don’t care about anything else, you understand?”

  Mascardi nodded.

  “Either way, if I don’t use necromancy where we’re going, all of you will die. And when I say all of you, I do mean all of you…”

  Mascardi got up and made the round of the cabin like an imprisoned seagull. He looked at the old man again and again, but Karil’s eyes remained focused on the rum. He knew things. He’d seen them, and whatever he saw, came to pass. How many horrors lay ahead? The call of the gods.

  Mascardi blew a breath out of his nostrils like a bull, sat for a while longer and they drank together. Afterwards, he thought of the woman on the ship, the open sea, and the gold. He smiled, got up and left.

  THE END

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Is the story over? Of course not, but it dropped anchor for now. Mascardi’s crew will continue travelling and weaving the fabric of Myths, until the captain, Odet the one-eyed archer, Dizan the bard, the Ghost and the others, find their destiny while facing the waves and the obstacles set by gods and lords.

  The story continues…

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