The Pain of Compassion

by Roland Boykin

  If the ship had ever been painted in bright colors before, there was no evidence of that now. New wood was oiled to look old where the ship had been repaired. The intentional deception only increased his suspicions, yet none of the crew members he could see working on the ship even bothered to look up. Either he was being watched by someone he couldn’t see, or they had complete confidence in their captain’s ability to handle a lone stranger.

  He may not know a lot about them, but Ronald knew you didn’t walk onto another man’s ship without permission. Standing at the foot of the gangway, he called out.

  “Hallo the ship. May I come aboard?”

  The nearest sailor glanced up at the sound of his voice, but appeared to be looking past him. Turning around, Ronald spotted Sofia with her arm around Floanne already at the foot of the pier. Berating himself over his foolishness in thinking he could protect the Princess, her frown let him know she wasn’t happy with his decision.

  He turned back to the ship as shouting could be heard inside. One of the deck hatches slammed open followed by the reddest hair he’d ever seen on a man. Using the hook on his right arm, the old sailor heaved himself up on deck and quickly looked them over before speaking.

  “Hallo yourself. What is it you want from me?”

  “We need transportation, and have a proposition for you from Cedric the innkeeper.”

  “Well now, a proposition from that old thief is it? The last time I took him up on one of those I ended up with this,” he replied, holding up his hook. “Very well, come aboard. Would this have anything to do with the smoke rising from Seaside’s harbor?”

  “Let’s just say someone doesn’t want us to leave.”

  The captain turned and started aft towards his cabin leaving them to negotiate the narrow gangway on their own. Ronald had to take Floanne by the hand and guide her as her eyes were tightly shut. Once onboard, they hurried to catch up with the captain as he stood over the open hatch, bellowing. “Bernard! Finish up down there and then report to my cabin.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  Glancing back to see if they were following, the old man continued on to his cabin where he opened the door and ushered them inside. The low ceiling forced everyone to duck, except Floanne. The Captain sat behind his desk, and the others found seats on chests along the walls. With steepled fingers, he leaned back and studied them before speaking.

  “I seen a fair number of mercenaries in my travels, and if you two are truly what you make out to be, I’ll give up my ship and take up farming.” Pointing a finger at Ronald, he continued. “Military, and probably an officer unless I miss my guess, and your partner would feel right at home in a palace ballroom, me thinks.”

  Shifting his attention to Floanne, he leaned forward, a frown barely visible behind the red beard. “What a pretty little lass is doing with the likes of you two is a mystery to me. I’d almost be willing to give up the sea if I had someone like you to come home to.”

  Blushing, Floanne lowered her eyes and shrugged.

  Sofia leaned forward, hand on the hilt of her sword, the heat in her eyes reflecting the burning fire of her anger. She pulled the Captain’s eyes away from her handmaiden.

  “Keep your observations and your hands to yourself, old man. You’ll live longer. And since you’ve ignored the common courtesy of exchanging names, ours will remain a mystery also.”

  “Maybe there’s a reason the Captain doesn’t want his name bandied about,” Ronald remarked after studying the old sailor. “I remember a story that circulated among the taverns many years ago about two brothers who had a falling out over the family business, and possession of a particular ship. The older brother disappeared along with the ship while the other changed his name to Rogosh the Red and vowed to sail the straits until the ship was once again his.”

  The Captain slumped back in his chair gently caressing the surface of his desk with his fingertips, and looked up as if seeing the entire ship through the roof of his cabin. “This ship is my life, and it would be over if I lost her. Maybe he has become so famous; he is no longer interested in an old ship.”

  “Be that as it may,” Sofia spoke up. “We have urgent need of you and your ship to reach Marlinor, preferably the Capitol of New Braton. Cedric promised that if you could accomplish this, he would consider your debt to him paid in full. My concern is, with the tensions between our countries, how will it be possible to enter the country safely?”

  A smile broke out on the old man’s face as he pulled a Marlinor flag from a drawer. “Now why would an honest, properly registered Marlinor merchant have any trouble sailing into New Braton harbor?”

  Ronald laughed, took one of the Princess’s gems and set it on the desk. “I have no idea what your debt to the innkeeper is, but a man needs to make a profit. That should cover it. So, do we have a deal?”

  “Aye, that we do,” he agreed and stepped from behind the desk to shake their hands, except for Floanne’s. He tried to raise her hand up to be kissed, only to have his hand slapped by Sofia. Floanne left the cabin giggling.

  “Just one more thing,” he stopped the other two at the door. “If my brother does catch us, he will probably try to save this ship, but won’t hesitate to kill us.”

  Sofia turned to stare at him as the temperature in the cabin rose sharply.

  “He can try.”

  ***

  After the council meeting, Duke d’Lorange spent the rest of the day half-heartedly attending to the needs of the Capitol, his mind elsewhere. By late afternoon, his work finally done, Marcus strode purposefully through the halls of the Palace on his way to the family mansion across the square. Oblivious to the nods of the guards now loyal to him, the events of this morning’s council meeting replayed over and over in his thoughts. While the results from his announcement the Princess had been attacked were exactly what he’d planned, his thoughts kept returning to the ogre.

  Damn that meddlesome Prince Mathias for countermanding his orders to the guard, and allowing that animal into the Capitol. The message to him was clear. Regardless of what the ogre actually said, the Ancient One was aware of the Duke’s plans, and the presence of the ogre was a warning. Why wouldn’t the old man just die and leave the world of men to those with the power and ambition to rule it?

  His thoughts scattered when he opened the door and was greeted enthusiastically by his son.

  “Father! Is it true?”

  “What?”

  “Rumors are all over the city that an ogre spoke at the council meeting this morning. Did it actually speak? What did it say?”

  The Duke turned away to pour himself a glass of wine which he quickly downed before pouring another. What else did the rumors say? He shook off the sudden unease and turned back to his son.

  “What the ogre had to say was meaningless. He’s just an animal taught to mimic the speech of men. Forget about him.”

  Rafael grabbed his favorite history book from the table where he’d been reading, and held it up like a shield. “But Father, an ogre’s honesty and loyalty are legendary. Their intelligence has never been questioned, only their ability to learn to speak properly. According to this, they were instrumental in winning the war against the Dark Lord.”

  “Nonsense,” Marcus retorted and tossed back the second glass of wine. “Men made up the back-bone of that army while the animals were just in the way. Whoever wrote that book must have believed the Deluti lies.”

  Recognizing the look in his son’s eyes, he decided to put an end to the argument before it even began. He didn’t have time for this. “And to prevent you from getting any ideas, I expressly forbid you talking to that ogre. Now tell your mother and sister I am not to be disturbed. Is that understood?”

  Marcus sighed as his son stormed from the room, slamming the door behind him. Tempted to pour another glass of wine, he refrained, knowing that no amount of alcohol would diminish the pain he was likely to experience from what he had to do.

  Fumbling with the lock o
n the door to his study, Marcus took a deep breath and turned to face the tapestry on the wall and what was hidden behind it. Even without the cloth covering, it would take more than a casual inspection to discover the near invisible seam outlining the door. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he stepped behind the tapestry and lightly touched the wall with his fingertips. A section of wall, barely wide enough to pass through, swung open soundlessly and then returned after he’d stepped through.

  He’d learned long ago not to assume what his master knew or didn’t know, and just reported the events as he saw them. By the time he’d mustered enough courage to speak the words of calling and watched the great eye in the mirror disappear, beads of sweat once again covered his brow.

  The scarred face of his master soon appeared in the mirror. Those hate-filled eyes always made him feel like he had to confess something, anything. But he would not soon forget the consequences of speaking before being given permission, and used every bit of his resolve to keep his mouth firmly closed.

  After an eternity, the Dark Lord’s lips twisted into a parody of a smile as his eyes froze the blood in the Duke’s veins.

  “Listen very carefully, my little Duke. Plans have changed. I am aware of the attack on Princess Sofia, and her sister will pay dearly for attempting to cross me, but none of that matters to you. What matters to you is that Princess Sofia now belongs to me. If by chance she makes it to the Capitol and you discover her, do nothing except contact me. She is not to be touched. Is that understood?”

  “Understood, my Lord,” Marcus answered. Worried about his own plans, he asked without thinking, “What of the betrothal?”

  Slammed up against the wall, every bone on the verge of shattering, the Duke stared in horror as the scarred visage of his master appeared to emerge from the mirror just inches from his own.

  “Maybe I didn’t make myself clear, my pathetic would-be King. There is no more betrothal. The Princess belongs to me. Now, I hope for your sake, you had a good reason to call me.”

  Released from the wall, and unable to control the tremors that wracked his body, Marcus struggled to remain upright. Afraid to speak, but afraid not to, he forced a word past the tightness of his throat.

  “Ogre.”

  “What did you say?”

  “An ogre addressed the council this morning,” he gasped. “He claimed to have been sent by the Ancient One, and issued a warning.”

  “Didn’t I order you to ban all non-humans from the Capitol?”

  “Yes,” the Duke rushed to explain. “I gave specific orders to the guard, but that meddlesome Prince Mathias intercepted the ogre at the gate and reversed my orders. The Prince welcomed the ogre to the Capitol and accepted full responsibility for Sebastian’s safe …”

  The tiny room plunged into darkness as Marcus held his breath. What did he say? Faint blue tendrils of power surrounding the mirror were the only things visible. He soon realized he couldn’t draw a breath even if he’d wanted to, but no longer had the capacity to care.

  Slowly the Duke became aware of the returning light and his body had resumed the process of breathing. His master’s face had returned to the mirror, and Marcus didn’t miss the splatters of blood caught in those hideous scars. The voice that hissed from those twisted lips was barely recognizable.

  “Kill the ogre.”

  “But …”

  Once again, the Dark Lord’s face hovered inches from his own.

  “Find a way, human. Your life depends on it.”

  The Duke collapsed to his knees as the face was replaced by the eye in the mirror and the door opened on its own. He managed to crawl out of the room and onto the chair at his desk, his master’s last command consuming his thoughts. Once able to stand and fortify himself with another glass of wine, he unlocked the door and pulled the servant’s rope. A plan began to form as he waited for his aide to arrive.

  “How may I serve you, my Lord?”

  “Set someone to watch the ogre that arrived at the Palace today. I want to know where he sleeps, who he talks to, and every move he makes.”

  “It will be done as you say, my Lord.”

  ***

  Emma slipped through the door on the heels of the servant and fled the Duke’s mansion. In an alley not far away, she doubled over and lost the contents of her stomach. The evil that infused her spirit like a decaying corpse would not be purged so easily. A fear like she’d never experienced before gave strength to her legs as she ran to warn Sebastian, and even though she would never admit it, she needed the comfort of the ogre’s presence.

  Chapter Sixteen ~ Balance

  “Bernard!” the Captain yelled before noticing his first mate leaning up against the ladder outside, watching the two women as they crossed the deck.

  The wiry, leather skinned sailor turned back to his old friend with a crooked smile and a gleam in his eye. “Ya think she be know’n how ta use thet sword?”

  “Don’t be a fool, Bernard. Maybe if you’d been check’n out her hands instead of other parts, you might’ve noticed the faint scars. I don’t think she got them doin needle point. Now, roust out the men and get the ole lady ready to sail. We leave in an hour to catch the tide.”

  Back inside the cabin, Captain Gerrad fell back against the closed door. Memories, long buried, filled the room. The specter of his brother appeared before him to replay the argument they’d had all those years ago: who would take over their failing family business. Failing because of Rogosh’s habit of gambling away their profits. The scent of acrid smoke filled his nose as it had that night when his brother returned and set fire to the yard.

  If not for the suspicions of an enterprising young innkeeper, who had arrived earlier in the day to “Protect his investment”, Gerrad and his men would have been lost. As it was, nothing could be done about the flames that ravaged their storehouses or the partially completed ship resting in the dock. He’d fought for his life and to protect his ship. Gerrad lost his hand to his brother that night, and Rogosh’s words after being driven back were as fresh as if they’d been spoken yesterday. “You owe me more than a hand, big brother, and someday I will collect.”

  The vision dissipated as quickly as it had formed, leaving the Captain gasping for breath and shivering. He stumbled over to the desk and fell into his chair, resisting the urge to scratch the phantom itch on his missing hand. The sparkle of the gem resting on his desk mocked him, daring him to pick it up and inspect it. Was it fake? He didn’t think so.

  Leaning back with eyes closed, he let the familiar sounds of his crew readying the ship bring him back to the present. In his mind’s eye, the Captain watched as barrels of water and crates of supplies were loaded into the hold. Men scampered aloft preparing the sails, lines were snaked out on deck, and he could feel the heavy booms being swung into position.

  The excitement he normally felt prior to getting underway eluded him. Gerrad knew this was just the calm before the storm, and the storm wore leathers with a sword at her hip. The moment he had looked into the young woman’s eyes, he knew his life would be forever changed. The mantle of death covered her like a cloak, and if he wasn’t careful, it would cover him as well.

  Ronald and Sofia waited by the wagon, Floanne having decided to stay onboard and not attempt the narrow gangway again. They watched while some of the crew swarmed the ship doing things the two of them could only guess at, and others moved stores from the one building to the ship. The quiet precision displayed by the men helped to banish Ronald’s apprehension over the upcoming voyage. Their professionalism rivaled any military unit he’d seen.

  “I don’t think we could have found a better ship and crew to get us to Marlinor.” He turned to Sofia when she didn’t comment. She no longer watched the ship, but stared far into the distance. He imagined what she must be feeling, as he felt it also. Once they left, there was no turning back, and both would be faced with a totally unfamiliar world.

  “Are we doing the right thing, Ronald?”

  “What
else can we do? Anyone could be our enemy here, and I’m convinced if we return now, we will die. Our only hope is to leave and then return with allies.”

  She turned her eyes on him and searched his face. “How can you be so sure?”

  Ronald returned her look and reached out to touch her arm. “I believe in you, and I believe in the Deluti spirit that guides you. There are four more amulets somewhere in the world, and more like you with Deluti blood running in their veins. My hope is that we will discover another amulet wearer in New Braton. At the very least, we can reach out to Prince Mathias for help.”

  Two sailors approached, putting their conversation on hold. “We was sent ta help ye load yer packs onboard. The amidships cabin be cleaned out fer ye. It be a mite snug fer three, but beats sleep’n on deck.”

  They followed the men up the gangway, and to what looked like a miniature house in the middle of the ship. Inside reeked of tar and hemp, but appeared clean. Floanne huddled in a corner, her face painted with an expression Sofia recognized right away. First things first as she inspected the interior and turned to the sailors.

  “I see no beds. You expect us to sleep in here?”

  The one sailor laughed out loud until his partner slapped him in the arm, and then turned to the Princess. “Aye, and dis be da best place ta sleep in a storm. Yer beds be hang’n there on the bulkhead.” He pointed to three canvas bags hanging from hooks. “We be cast’n off soon, and the Capt’n asks ye stay here until across the breakwater.”

  Ronald went to inspect their supposed beds while Sofia went over to sit next to Floanne. She gently pried apart her former handmaiden’s clenched hands and placed them in her own.

  “I promised to always protect you, didn’t I?” At Floanne’s cautious nod, she continued. “We survived leaving the Palace, we survived the attack, and we will survive this. Now, tell me about that grandmother of yours. She sounds like the kind of woman I would have liked to know.”