Whisper of Blood

by James Dale

  When the long boats were readied and Dorad and Falco had recruited their eight men and outfitted them for the landing, Tarsus sought out Cullibranos, who had retired to the captain's chamber below the quarterdeck.

  "All is ready," he announced when his questioning knock was answered. "The men are assembled and the boats are ready to shove off."

  "Whom did you place in command until our return?" asked the captain when he finally emerged, folding an old, yellow map and sliding it into a leather pouch.

  "Lars," Tarsus answered.

  "No," Cullibranos said. "I want Danos to command."

  "But Lars outranks..."

  "Danos will command," Cullibranos snapped. "Lars is a fool and the son of a fool."

  "The laws of the Brotherhood..."

  "I am the law aboard this ship!" shouted the Norgarthan. "Are you prepared to go against my orders?"

  Tarsus was silent.

  "I thought not," he smirked. "Find Danos and tell him I don't want the Seawolf caught by any patrols out of Norgarth. They have been more than enough trouble to the Brotherhood of late. Have him put out to sea and meet us back here in three days."

  "Aye, sir," the Amarian nodded, but in his heart, he vowed Cullibranos would not return from the Ailsantain Forest.

  Minutes later, nineteen men climbed down rope ladders to take their places in the long boats; Tarsus, Dorad and his eight men in the first boat, Captain Cullibranos, Falco and the other eight pirates in the second. In but a short time the hundred yards of sparkling green water was covered, the long boats were beached and pulled up onto the white sand far out of reach of the tide. Then with their swords slapping against their thighs, the sailors made their way across the sun-drenched beach to confront a wall of jungle-like vegetation.

  When the pirates reached the edge of the Ailsantain Forest, Cullibranos turned to address the landing party. "I want two men to stay with the long boats," he began. "Bedegam and Gar, remain with the boats and keep watch until our return. If we are not back in three days, return to the Seawolf and put out to sea again. Return here at midday every day until we are back or a week has passed. After that, take your orders from Danos."

  "As for the rest of you," he continued. "We are not here to gather provisions as you have been told. We are here to gather riches! I have in my possession an ancient map," with that Cullibranos reached into the leather pouch hanging from his shoulder and pulled out a yellowed parchment. "In the Ailsantain Forest there is a temple built by the old lords of the Staffclave after the Great War. Within lies a treasure untouched for seven hundred years. Spoils of war looted from the East! It will be hard going and each of you will be expected to pull your weight. So, no lagging! Just get the job done. Then," he finished, "we’ll return to Brimcohn and show those dogs how to throw a party!"

  The pirates cheered hearing this and Cullibranos whipped out his sword with an impressive shiiing, then set upon the restraining growth of the Ailsantain Forest.

  "I see you didn't get the chance to speak with him about this temple," Tarsus said, turning to Dorad as he drew his own sword and attacked the foliage, though with far less enthusiasm than the captain and the rest of the crew.

  "No," replied his young friend, doing the same. "He would not give me the opportunity. If we are lucky enough, or unlucky enough I should say, to find it, we must force the captain to listen. Our very lives may depend on it."

  "I will make him listen," the Amarian promised. "If you think we are in that much danger."

  "Tarsus," Dorad answered grimly, "in all our time together, we have never been in such peril."

  The traveling proved rough and the pirates soon understood why the Ailsantain Forest was frequently mistaken for the jungle it was often called. As they moved farther into the forest, the temperature rose until it was unbearably hot and the air became thick and barely breathable. Dense underbrush bared every foot of the way and vines and creepers reached down from the trees, entangling sword arms and snagging anywhere they could find purchase on the crewmen.

  The pirates were quickly drenched in sweat, muttering curses at various gods, demigods and demons. They hacked and slashed, and where swords became encumbered and unwieldy, out came daggers and dirks to continue the tiresome work. Multicolored birds took flight at the pirate's approach and unseen tree dwellers scrambled up to higher branches to escape the wildly swinging blades, the furry creatures making a bigger ruckus than the men battling their way through the forest.

  One hour passed, then two, then four. Still there was no sign of the trail shown on the captain's map. This caused Cullibranos to slip into one of his blacker moods and he pushed the men harder because of it. Towards midafternoon, with the pirates almost dead on their feet, the captain finally ordered a rest halt. Tarsus took the opportunity to speak with him.

  "Sir?"

  "What is it dog?" the Norgarthan snapped.

  With a force of will few men could have equaled, Tarsus somehow restrained himself from taking his sap covered dagger and driving it into Cullibranos' heart. It was several seconds before the Amarian could speak and by that time the entire crew had given up their exhausted attempts at eating and drinking, and had turned to watch the two glaring officers.

  "Meaning no disrespect, sir," he finally managed in a voice dripping with malice, "but if we don't find this path soon, we'll be forced to cut out a defensible clearing before nightfall. Hell only knows what manner of beasts roam this damned jungle."

  "Don't you think I know that, you stupid son of a...."

  Cullibranos went no farther. This time there was no restraining the seething Amarian. He could only take so much abuse from the Norgarthan, damn the consequences. With a flash of steel, he drew his sword, meaning to separate the captain's head from his miserable neck. At the last instant however, whether from exhaustion or the realization that most of the landing party were Cullibranos' men, Tarsus' blade turned aside and the flat of it struck the captain's temple with a resounding whack! He tumbled to the forest floor unconscious.

  Immediately the scrape of swords being drawn filled the air as the remaining pirates jumped to their feet. But before they could choose sides in a battle that would probably leave most of them dead, Dorad intervened.

  "Stop!" he shouted at the top of his voice. "Do you all wish to die in this forsaken place?" It worked for only a second. A blow had already been struck. But that second saved their lives.

  "I say only one should die!" retorted Malachus, a desperado as cruel and murderous as they come. "The mutineer Tarsus!"

  "Hang him!" shouted Jaakhan, a Kadinar running from a blood feud.

  "String him up!" agreed another.

  "Yes!" several of the pirates chimed in. "String him up!"

  "If any among you think yourself man enough," said Falco stepping to Tarsus' side, "just reach for a vine! You'll find a foot of steel in your back."

  "That's the only way you could take me!" snarled Jaakhan. "From behind."

  "Silence!" bellowed Dorad. "Enough I say!"

  "Who do you think you are?" yelled Malachus. "No Doridanian horse bugger orders Malachus the Bloody!"

  At that point Tarsus reentered the fray. With a sweep of his sword he disarmed Malachus, grabbed him by the throat and pinned him against a tree. "He is the Prince of Doridan, you gutless pig," he said, low and dangerous. "And the next time you address him, you'll have a civil tongue in your head or none at all."

  He released Malachus and the pirate fell to the ground choking.

  "Besides," Dorad said soothingly. "There has been no talk of mutiny. Tarsus was just venting a little frustration. It has been a trying day for us all."

  "Try telling that to Cullibranos when he awakes," grumbled a pirate.

  "If he awakes," chuckled another, and sheathing his sword, resumed his seat.

  Thus, was the tension broken and a disaster averted. A handful of men set about the task of reviving Cullibranos and persuading him to postpone punishment until the treasure was safely aboard
the Seawolf. Pointing out Tarsus was stronger than any two of them, they convinced the captain his help would surely be needed to secure the temple's loot. It was a difficult task, but one born liars, such as pirates usually are, had little trouble accomplishing. When the remains of an ancient path were found minutes later, even the usually unforgiving Norgarthan acted as if the whole event was forgotten.

  The remaining day's trek through the forest was relatively uneventful. The traveling was now easier thanks to the discovery of the path and the pirate's spirits lifted. The sudden appearance of a large constrictor snake, well over fifteen feet in length, was merely considered a break in the monotony, instead of bringing complaints and grumblings of fear it would have caused earlier in the day.

  When darkness fell the pirates once again went to work on the thick underbrush. This time to create a clearing large enough for the entire company to rest safely and comfortably for the night. Deadfall was gathered and a large fire was kindled. Then the crew of the Seawolf ate, drank and jested until the Cullibranos ordered them to rest.

  Dorad drew the first watch along with Burke Rynthe, a man from Amorhad. Before long the landing party was sleeping deeply, exhausted from their day of strenuous traveling; all save Cullibranos and Tarsus. Both of those experienced fighters were watchful of his adversary, knowing that many an argument had been settled by a knife thrust in the dark. Finally, only Dorad and Burke remained awake as the lusty snoring of misfits, outlaws and adventurers joined the sounds of the night.

  As usual when he was alone with his thoughts, Dorad thought of home. Though being a part of the Brotherhood was carefree and adventurous, he did miss a few things from his former life. Not the pompous, self-important nobles at court, of course, but he missed his family. Though his father had consented to his exile, he still loved him. Being in the king’s place, four years older and wiser, he admitted grudgingly perhaps he might have done the same thing. Perhaps. He missed his gruff Uncle Morgan and his chivalrous cousin Grain. Most of all he missed his younger sister Anna. Grown now since he had been forced to leave, he still thought of Anna as the awkward girl who followed him everywhere through the palace when they were children. He also recalled in his last days in Dorshev, and how Kiathan Ellgaer’s had eyes followed her every move as she began to blossom into a beautiful young woman.

  "Duke Kiathan," Dorad muttered as a look of disgust came over his youthful face. The man was a silver tonged jackal who had been scheming and plotting to assume more power in the kingdom since gaining the Duchy of Raashan and winning the competition of the Sword at Ljmarn Haelfest.

  "Anna," Dorad vowed. "One day I will return, and if Kiathan has somehow managed to trick your hand away from father and that council of fools, I swear, Swordmaster or not, I'll carve him like a Haelfest bullock!"

  With thoughts of how he would reap revenge on Duke Kiathan, Dorad passed his hour of watch. After he and Burke roused their relief, they too were soon asleep. An hour later, a new watch was roused, and so it passed for the remainder of the night.

  With the coming of dawn, the crew of the Seawolf’s quest for the temple began anew. Though still weary from the previous day's labor, they arose, ate a quick breakfast of dried fruit, salted beef, and water, then they set off along the forest path. After only a few hours of quick paced marching, the thickness of the undergrowth began to lessen. The air, which the day before had been almost unbearable, lost much of its heaviness and became easier to breathe. Vines, creepers and other jungle-like growth gave way to short brush and scattered grasses.

  As the band traveled deeper into the forest it began to thin until finally there were only tall, arrow straight trees with a smooth, silvery bark and broad, deep green leaves. Towards noon, the forest thickened again, but only for a brief time. Then without warning, they came upon the object of their search.

  The temple stood in the center of a circular clearing about two hundred yards across, surrounded by a sea of tall, dark green grass. A score of terraced steps led up to twelve massive, marble columns shot through with veins of gold, supporting a large golden dome which shone with a brilliance to rival the sun. Even after seven centuries of weathering, the structure was amazingly unblemished. Its preservation left the pirates awestruck and its magnificence caused even those hard men to look upon it as something more than a building to be plundered. Cullibranos had in no way prepared them for what stood before them now. Even he was dumbfounded, having expected to find a crumbling pile of stones, long since defeated by time and the elements, despite what the blind priest of Yh’Adan had claimed.

  Wonder and excitement grew with each passing second. And fear also. For although there was no sign of life about the temple, the pirates one and all felt a powerful presence, watchful and waiting. A pain was growing in Tarsus' chest and there was a ringing in his ears. With a start, he realized he had been holding his breath since the temple had burst into view.

  It was Jaakhan who broke the silence.

  "What in the name of Gorthiel is this place?" he asked in a frightened whisper.

  Dorad promptly struck him an openhanded blow that sent him reeling. "Do not invoke that dark tower here!" the prince hissed. "You will place your miserable life in peril! Men of the Brotherhood! Behold the Temple of the Door! Look if you dare, but attempt to enter and your life will be forfeit!"

  To the pirates the name held no meaning. What Cullibranos knew came from the cryptic ramblings of a blind, possibly mad priest. Tarsus knew only the little Cullibranos had passed to him. Only Dorad knew the rumored purpose of this temple, and his knowledge was comprised of whispered speculations of closely guarded secrets. “This is no treasure house!” the former pince warned the Seawolf’s crew. “This is…” In truth, the former prince of Doridan knew very little about the Temple. Yet he did know it had been constructed seven hundred years ago by the races of Ailfar and Man at the behest of Aaracus the Pure, the last known prophet of the Creator God Yh. Every pillar and stone was placed where it now rested a generation after the defeat of the dark King Graith, constructed under the direction Aaracus and the greatest heroes of the West at that time: High Lord Thomas of Ruined Arkand, First of the Staffclave; Thayen Th'nar, King of Brydium; Cilidon An’Mera King of the Ailfar, and Lord Mirian Ellgereth, daughter of King Ellnad Ellgereth of Doridan.

  Once completed, Aaracus had taken the Staff of Mikael from Lord Thomas, entered the temple and from that moment forward passed out of the world. Why the prophet entered the temple with Staff only the Staffclave knew and kept that secret closely guarded. Lord Thomas and Lord Mirian placed upon the temple mighty Words of protection and preservation, guarding the temple against time and the meddling’s of human, Ailfar and Hiru. Neither could any creature of darkness pass through the Words so long as there was life left in one Lord of the Staffclave, though he or she be the last and it be ten thousand years distant.

  As a prince of the House of Ellgereth and a descendant of the Lord Mirian, Dorad alone among the pirates knew these things. Because of his unique heritage, he was also one of the few outside of the Lords of Staffclave who knew another secret as well. He had studied the prophecies spoken by Aaracus, prophecies which foretold that darkness would rise again one day. They were dark prophecies that spoke of the dark King Graith returning to trouble Aralon. The Staff of Mikael was a mighty weapon, fashioned by an Arch-Angel in a time so long ago it was not measured in years but eons. It could be the only reason for the Temple. It was a repository. A place to keep the staff safe until it could be used against the return of evil.

  All this he told the gathered pirates.

  "Tis a lie!" Cullibranos shouted. "A harper's tale to keep us away from the treasure Aaracus buried here!"

  "Can't you feel the power surrounding this place?" Dorad shouted back at the Norgarthan. "There is no treasure here. But there is power! Power that will only lead to death to anyone who dares try and enter!"

  "If this place does not harbor treasure," Cullibranos scoffed, “then it holds a mighty w
eapon! A valuable weapon for those bold enough to claim it. I shall reclaim the staff now and send any man who tries to stop me straight to hell!"

  "That goes for Malachus the Bloody as well!" shouted the captain's loyal henchman, drawing his sword and waving it above his head.

  "What say ye lads?" asked the captain of the Seawolf, drawing his own blade. "Shall we take this staff and make the Seawolf the mightiest ship to ever sail the Widewater? Make ourselves the most feared pirates on the high seas?"

  "Aye!" the pirates shouted.

  "Then follow me!" Cullibranos cried and stalked off toward the temple with fifteen pirates in his wake.

  Only Dorad, Falco and Tarsus remained behind.

  "Let them go," Tarsus said, holding back Dorad when he started to protest.

  "But they're walking to their deaths!"

  The group was halfway across the clearing.

  "Cullibranos deserves any death fate sees fit to deal him," growled Falco. "Even death by sorcery."

  The pirates were now at the foot of the temple. Cullibranos' voice could be heard clearly across the clearing as he addressed the men who had followed him.

  "When we return to Brimcohn as powerful as all the kings of the earthe, whom will you say led you to such heights?" he asked.

  "Captain Cullibranos of the Seawolf!" came their shouted reply.

  "Then on lads!" cried the Norgarthan, waving his saber above his head. "On to fame! On to fortune!"

  The pirates, wild eyed and insane with lust for the fabulous treasure Cullibranos had conjured in their minds, rushed by their captain, eyes locked on the golden domed temple. The first unfortunate man to place his foot on the marble steps knew instantly that his life was forfeit. He felt the increase of the Word in his bones, but before he could stop his charge, he was struck full in the chest by a lightning bolt of the radiant blue that sprang from the golden dome. The same horrifying fate was met by the next pirate a heartbeat after the first, then a third was struck and their mad rush was suddenly ended.