The Viking Throne
The Cursed Seas Collection
JB Michaels
Harrison and James Publishing
“From the opening pages to the final sentence, you are treated to a rollercoaster of fun and frights.”- DT Chantel
SEE THE BACK OF THE BOOK FOR MORE!
For the “Boys”, my dear friends
For the rough men who stand ready in the night
There be monsters in this story. No turning back now.
Chapter One
I didn’t notice the first pass. Admittedly, I had taken to drink like I had every other night of my life since I was fifteen, but my daughter had made mention of the swimmer who had passed our living room viewport.
Maggie, my daughter, pointed again. “Da, look. There he is again.”
“Maggie, no one is out there. I mean, I don’t see anything, love.” I even remembered leaning my head on the viewport in a silly attempt to see this swimmer Maggie had spoken of. Nothing.
“But Da, someone is out there. They have a mask on, Da. Like the humans use above us,” Maggie insisted.
Submerged Killarney had looked the same on that evening. The lights dimmed. The pink pub down the sea lane had emptied a few sirens, and a few more swam in. Everything seemed perfectly boring and in order.
“Mags, I am telling you, there is no one out there.”
Maggie swam outside of the house to find the human.
I put my hand on the viewport, then pointed and yelled, “Maggie, don’t leave the house like that. Get back in here!”
The human in the black scuba outfit grabbed Maggie. She struggled to remove his hand from her mouth. He shook his head at me. Then proceeded to ascend away from the house.
I swam as fast as I could to the door.
My wife, Imogen, screamed for Maggie and beat me out the door.
I awoke with a pounding headache, followed by a thundering panic that spewed from my stomach. There was no light in the confines of whatever awful fish tank I had been put in. I could feel the sides, the front, and back. The trap was laid. I’d swum right into the bloody thing. My first instinct was to bludgeon the tank with all my might. That didn’t work but made my knuckles bleed. I could smell my own blood mixing with the water. At that point, I didn’t want to admit that had I been sober, my current situation could have been summarily avoided. I put my head in my hands and prayed for some light.
As time wore on, hours in measure, I could feel a steady movement of the tank and concluded that I had been aboard a vessel. A human vessel, no doubt. The steady overflowing anxiety of the state of my family struck me continuously. What happened to Maggie and Imogen? What had I, James Henihan, done to lose my family? I’d failed to protect them. To see to it they were safe. I had failed. What good was I? These desperate thoughts caused me to strike the sides of my prison once again. More blood.
Hours passed before the light flooded the chamber below deck. Behind me were many other tanks, meant to hold other sirens, I surmised. The flickering lights showed the cold grey of the steel chamber.
The human’s boots clomped down the steep staircase to the floor and then towards me.
“You have been making far too much noise for a hungover siren. I admire your tenacity, though. It will suit my purposes very well.” The man spoke in a regal, proper British accent. One of the privileged who didn’t need the High Mage’s help. His position certainly granted him his own vessel to survive the floods and the ice caps melting, among other calamities that have shaped the current state of Earth, now a blue planet of vast, roiling seas.
He walked over to my tank and placed the listening device on the glass.
“Where is my family? You daft bastard.” I didn’t mince words.
“Your family? Oh, they didn’t tell me you had a family. I am sure they have been separated by now, but safe, I assure you.” He looked at his fingernails as if examining a manicure.
“You took them from me!” I slapped my hand against the tank and envisioned a crushing blow to the smug son of a bitch’s face.
“I can check the manifest for what cargo we acquired from our last dive. I am sure they are fine.” He smiled. “I need you to understand something. You are no longer a sentient being. You are now my property, an asset. Similar in nature to your family. They are no longer a family. They are now my property. As are you.”
“You are reviving enslavement for personal gain?” My eyes couldn’t have been wider with rage.
“I am Admiral Montgomery. You will be taking orders from me now. It is my understanding that you are a former member of the Siren Guard. This greatly impacts your treatment. If you cooperate willingly, then rewards will be due. Should you act the belligerent brute as you are now, punishments will be inflicted upon you.” Monty pulled a remote from the breast pocket of his red coat and pushed a button.
The shock fired through my body. My nerves burned with a piercing pain that dominated my every sense. Every fiber of my being. The electric shock paralyzed me for what seemed like minutes but was only seconds. Every muscle tensed then quickly relaxed.
“I hope my rather blunt demonstration has helped you understand the need for full cooperation.” Monty put the remote back in the breast pocket and then walked away.
The shock caused me to lose consciousness again.
This time, the lights were on when I opened my eyes. There were three more tanks filled with sirens, all capable males, certainly being enslaved for the same purpose. A purpose that had yet to be revealed to me or likely any other sirens. The thickness of our glass tanks prevented any communication.
I couldn’t help but think of Maggie. She and I used to mimic each other silently and contort our faces in the strangest positions to make each other laugh. We did this on a daily basis. The pantomiming, the laughing, the love powered my rage and disappointment in myself. I wanted to keep hitting the sides of the tank until it cracked open. I could be free. Any attempt to communicate through the glass to these other sirens was futile. The shock cords would certainly fire.
Two of the three fellow captives tried to break free as I did. They were shocked repeatedly until their will tired. Monty was not in the brig, so there must have been surveillance somewhere above us.
Pounding footfalls sounded once again and descended to the floor of the brig. The red coat of Montgomery burned my line of sight.
“Swimmingly. Rather swimmingly.” Monty walked to the tanks. He wiped crumbs from his jacket, and the gesture alone caused my stomach to growl.
I hadn’t even thought about eating up until that point. The bastard played games very well.
“Dear sirens, you have been chosen for your unique skill sets and knowledge of the deep. You will swim to the submerged grounds of the Donington estate and salvage the physical monies stored below. It is my estimation that there is a vault of gold and silver bullion. You are to examine every room of the mansion for this treasure. You will be kept under close watch, so any attempt at escape will end in your death. Within each of you is an implanted electrode at the base of your skull. The shock will kill you.”
My guesses at his motivations were true. He wanted us to fetch for him. As if we were dolphins or seals locked in an ancient aquarium for amusement.
I violently shook my head. He pushed the button. The shock wasn’t enough to render me unconscious, but the pain spiked considerably. My ribs hurt.
“Oh, you are too stupid. Thank you for the teachable moment though. We will set you to work shortly. Upon your return, should you find what we need, you will be fed. Given the hours since all of you last ate, I am sure your hunger will serve as motivation.” Monty
walked away.
Several of Monty’s crew attached chains to the top of our tanks. They walked out of the grey chamber, and the floor underneath me opened. The abyss showed below. Our individual tanks were being lowered to the sea’s bottom. We acted as anchors.
He made mention of a Donington estate. If it hadn’t been settled by sirens and converted to a city, it must mean the waters surrounding Donington were cursed.
Cursed almost always meant a leviathan in the depths.
Chapter Two
The descent to the bottom was fast and far too jarring to focus on what may or may not be swimming or lurking around me. My tank hit the submerged bowling green hard. The top of the tank popped open. I was technically liberated from the transparent and small prison but not truly free. Monty’s warnings were not to be ignored. I swore that I could feel the shock implant in the back of my neck.
I swam from the open tank and could see the mansion’s gothic spires and brownstone. The sea had not taken it just yet. The mansion’s main building was bookended by two towers that did show signs of wear and algae. Still, the mansion had held up under immense pressure.
The three other tanks reached bottom seconds after mine.
“How shall we proceed? I am James Henihan. Who might you gentlemen be?”
“I am Jacob.” A tall siren emerged from his tank.
“William,” another shorter siren said.
“I be Pierce. We should make haste to the mansion as we do not know who or what might be out here.” The muscular siren swam away from the group.
“Perhaps it would be wise to stick together and get this done as quickly as possible, Pierce!” I yelled but still swam to catch up to him. His impatience would either reward us or kill us.
Pierce pushed through the grand double doors. His pace of swim was reckless. He couldn’t possibly have known where to go. We caught up to him. He was already above us swimming on the top floor above the grand staircase. The lobby was ornate and colored black and white. Ironically, the center of the lobby had a statue of Poseidon at the center. The Greek god held his trident as if gleeful that the sea had overtaken the mansion. Pierce couldn’t have possibly noticed the irony as he frantically burst in each door shoulder first. He was making enough noise, sending soundwaves and vibrations every direction to wake even the deepest sea creature.
I swam to the top floor around the great white chandelier and hurried to silence the idiot. He’d burst into a door down the left wing of the mansion. I approached him, my haste enhanced by the need to survive in cursed waters and the fear of the unknown.
“My dear boy, Pierce, your strategy of making as much noise as possible will almost certainly work against us. I understand the need to find the bullion to eat, but this is most certainly not the course to take.”
“You know what, old siren? I don’t take orders from you.” Pierce emerged from the bedroom he’d just ransacked.
“Yes, thanks for the reminder of our enslavement. We only take orders from Montgomery. That is our position at this time, but I would prefer that over death. We haven’t a clue about what may be swimming these depths. These are cursed waters. Otherwise, sirens would have settled this mansion by now. Certainly.”
Pierce ignored my urging to err on the side of caution. He kept pushing through the doors down the hall.
“The bullion or safe will not be up here. I am heading down to ground floor,” Pierce said.
The water suddenly felt much colder.
“Did you feel that sudden shift in water temperature too?” I said to William and Jacob, who followed me to the top.
“I feel it too,” William answered.
“Yes. What do you think it may be?” Jacob asked.
“It could be any number of things, but a stark drop like this and seemingly nothing visible around us may mean that whatever it is…it’s big and has pushed the cold water to us.”
Pierce swam past the Poseidon statue below.
We swam over the railing and followed Pierce.
Again, he pushed through the rooms on the first floor in the same maniacal way he had before. Another current of cold water filled the lobby.
“He will get himself killed, he will.” William swam to catch up to Pierce.
“Stop,” I warned William.
An ephemeral outline of the banshee floated in the dark corridor underneath the stairwell, then it was gone. Despite being a short-lived sighting, it had no face and wore white robes that seemed to glow in the darkness of the mansion’s halls. Pierce was down the opposite hallway. Will kept still. We all stopped, trying to grasp the reality of a seemingly illusionary vision we had witnessed.
“You did see that, din’ ya’?” Jacob asked.
“I did. Apparently, banshees don’t care if the mansion is submerged or not and haunt regardless.” I was the first to move from our group of three, again in the direction of the blunt instrument that was Pierce.
Will and Jacob followed suit.
“What do we really have to worry about? Banshees scream. Surely, they can’t scream in these depths,” Jacob said.
“We don’t know the nature of the banshees. I haven’t encountered one before, have you? I just know from the humans’ accounts, they float in wispy robes and scream until one goes deaf.” I pushed down to Pierce, who swam out of a room in a flash and signaled for our help.
The cold surrounded us again. We saw Pierce about twenty yards away down the hallway and swam towards him as fast we could. As we approached him, his eyes grew increasingly wide and started waving his arms.
“Hurry! Hurry! Don’t look behind you!”
At this point, I didn’t want to look back, having assumed the banshee had materialized and had given chase.
“William!” Jacob yelled.
I turned to look.
William had been pulled in reverse in a violent and incredibly powerful manner.
Jacob’s eyes went wide.
“Make haste, boy. We can’t let him go.” I swam as fast as I could. Deep, powerful breaststrokes to close the gap.
The darkness of the corridor crept in around me. It felt claustrophobic. The water was freezing, which further restricted my speed. Something white flashed on the left side at the end of the hallway. At least now I had a direction to head even if it was through the darkness. My Guard training kicked in. The extra weight from lack of exercise hugging my lower stomach proved a non-factor. A siren was in need and I moved swiftly.
“Do you think it wise to move so quickly?” Pierce said as he matched my speed and position.
“Ha. Quite amusing. It was your rabble-rousing and rummaging that alerted the banshee in the first place.” I looked towards his voice and could see a vague, soft outline of his body. He was strong and would be useful for whatever or whomever we were about to confront.
“Why would a banshee abduct a siren?” Pierce asked.
We had reached the sight of the flash. It was a butler’s door that swung open and closed, settling in the middle.
“Well, it could be protecting the mansion. Or lord knows what. It’s rather silly to think of a reason as if the banshee has reasons,” I said.
The kitchen was big and open, black counters and white cabinets aplenty, and it led to a courtyard. The surface light beamed down to the open water of the outdoor patio.
“I would suggest a stealthier strategy since the light will show our position,” I said to Pierce.
“You sound just like my superior officer, Billingsley.” Pierce shook his head but obeyed.
“You were in the Guard too.” I was shocked due to his lack of discipline.
“Yes, I assumed we all are. Of course, I was in Special Forces. Jacob and William are your run-of-the-mill grunts, and you obviously led your own troop.” Pierced grasped a counter and peeked into the courtyard.
“Perhaps you aren’t as dumb as you look,” I quipped and joined him behind the counter.
“He appears to be unconscious and hunched over a stone firepla
ce,” Pierce reported.
Indeed, he was lying over the fireplace on his belly.
“The banshee has wisely laid a trap for us to roll right into. I will scout around.” I swam away from Pierce and below the windows that looked out into the yard. Perhaps another angle would help spot the banshee and reveal the reason for William’s location.
The windows rattled. A thumping bass knocked the cabinet doors open.
I quickly swam back to Pierce.
“It would appear the banshee’s motivations are revealed.” Pierced pointed to the courtyard.
The gigantic reptilian head, equal to the size of a siren’s entire body, had appeared above William. From what I could see in that moment, the head was that of an extinct underwater dinosaur, a Pliosaurus, except its jawline could no longer contain its teeth. They were bared and sharp and aged from years of crunching bone and sinew.
Pierce stared into the courtyard. “How do you suggest we save our fellow Guardsmen now?”
Chapter Three
The Pliosaurus didn’t hesitate to give us a show. Poor William was barely visible in front of the fireplace as his body burst into a bloody cloud. His detached arm floated toward the kitchen window.
“We can’t save him now. Can we?” I said.
Pierce and I stared at the gore.
The Pliosaurus just chomped and swallowed. There was very little chewing. It moved faster with each successive chomp. It must have been very hungry to have devoured William so enthusiastically.
“We should swim away.” Pierce started toward the swinging butler pantry door.
“Agreed, let’s move.” No sooner had I responded than the banshee showed its wispy white robes again beyond the door. It lifted its arm and pointed towards us. Seconds later, the glass from the kitchen window sprayed. The beastie was not sated. It hit the cabinets hard in search of more food. The food being us, of course.
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