by PT Hylton
“We got you, you bastard,” Abbey muttered.
Not wanting to wait a moment longer than she had to, Abbey leapt over the side of the ship and rode the wind to the Algonian vessel. She drew her sword as she landed and prepared for combat.
Instead, she found an empty deck.
She stood there for a long moment, confused. At first she thought it was maybe just poor crew management at work, but then she realized it wasn’t just that part of the deck that was empty. It was the entire deck.
She ran up the companionway to the quarterdeck, a sinking feeling in her stomach. It too was empty. As she explored each deck, each level, each cabin, she found the same thing--nothing.
Hooks were landing on the rails now, and her companions were dumbstruck when they boarded the ship and found her alone.
“They’re gone,” Abbey said in a vacant voice. “Everyone’s gone.”
Hekla held up a finger. “No, not everyone. Listen.”
After a moment Abbey heard it too. Pounding coming from below them.
She ran to the hatch that led to the cargo hold and threw it open.
The first thing she saw through the hatch was Syd’s filthy squinting face smiling up at her.
“Took you long enough,” Syd said with a laugh.
Abbey hopped through the hatch and embraced her friend. “Are you all right? Is everyone else?”
Syd nodded. “Most of us are. We lost a couple. Sigmund. Hekla, I think.”
“I’m right here,” Hekla called, sounding annoyed that her captain had presumed her dead.
“Thank the sea!” Syd shouted through the open hatch. She turned back to Abbey. “Elliot, Gideon, Olaf, and Fannar are all gone. They took them away a couple days ago, and I don’t know if they’re alive or dead.”
Abbey put a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “If they’re alive, we’ll find them and get them back.”
Syd sighed. “It’s so wonderful to see you. We haven’t heard a peep out of the crew in hours. We were starting to think maybe they left us for dead.”
“They sort of did.”
Abbey was helping her crew onto the deck when Clemens ran up to her.
“I found something you should see. It was on the desk in the captain’s quarters.” He handed her a slip of parchment.
As she read it, the color drained from her face.
Abbey,
I’ll see you in Holdgate. I hope you’re ready for what’s next.
S
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Abbey and Syd stood on the quarterdeck of Kraken watching the crew move about as if in a daze.
“You think they’ll be okay?” Abbey asked her friend.
Syd didn’t take her eyes off her crew as she answered, “They were locked in a cargo hold for three days. It was pretty shitty, but it’s not the worst thing that’s ever happened to anyone. They weren’t tortured, and they had food and water.”
“And how about you, Captain? Are you going to be okay?”
Syd turned to her and gave a thin smile. “Like I said, it wasn’t the end of the world.”
Abbey frowned. She knew her friend was hiding how difficult the experience had been. Yes, she hadn’t been tortured, but she had experienced the added stress of being responsible for forty people’s lives. They were her crew, and they had been locked up for three days. She hadn’t been able to do anything about it but wait and hope.
Abbey knew it would have almost killed her to have been in that position.
Syd continued, “The best thing for all of us at this point is just to get back to work.” She ran a hand along the rail. “We’ve been through a lot, but at least we got a great new ship out of it.”
Abbey raised an eyebrow. “You don’t think Algon is going to want their flagship back?”
Syd chuckled. “They’re welcome to try and take it.”
Abbey looked over the port side at her father’s pathetic little fishing vessel, which was creeping along close behind them. The former crew of The Foggy Day had claimed Kraken for the voyage back to Holdgate, and Benjamin and the team he’d brought to Algon had stayed on the fishing boat.
Dustin stormcalled from Kraken, but both ships were benefiting from his winds.
“You think we’ll beat the Algonian army to Holdgate?” Syd asked.
“I sure hope so.” Abbey had given the matter a lot of thought, but she hadn’t come to a proper conclusion. According to Jarvi, moving an army overland from Algon to Holdgate would take a minimum of two weeks under the best of conditions.
Carter had told Abbey the Algonian army had left for Holdgate over a week ago. It was that word “over” that was concerning her. It was such an imprecise turn of phrase. Did it mean eight days? Ten? Twelve? And how good could Carter’s sense of time be, when he was locked in that same room all the time?
Abbey had no idea. Based on what they knew she believed it was very likely they’d make it to Holdgate before the Algonian army, but there was no way to be certain. All they could do was get back home as quickly as possible and hope for the best.
And there was still the open question of where Simon was. Had he gone to join his army, or was he up to something else?
“Here’s what I don’t understand,” Abbey admitted. “Why did Simon do any of this?”
Syd shook her head. “I don’t know, but when I spoke to him it seemed like he had a real hard-on for you.”
Abbey’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “It’s not like that. He thinks of himself as my brother.”
Syd raised an eyebrow. “Is he?”
“No. Not really. It’s just that my mom…” Her voice trailed off. It didn’t feel right to tell the story to Syd before she’d had a chance to tell it to her father. “He knew my mom. It’s complicated.”
“Sounds like it,” Syd said.
Abbey stared out at the open water for a while before continuing. “He says he wants to teach me. It’s like he thinks putting me through hardship will make me stronger.”
“Sick bastard,” the captain replied.
“Yeah, but see… That’s what’s bothering me. If that was really his intention, at least there would be a disturbing logic to the whole thing. It’s messed up, but if you put yourself in his head, it sort of makes sense. It’s just that his actions don’t line up with that being his goal.”
“How so?”
Abbey turned toward her friend. “Okay, imagine he just wants to make my life hell. Why burn the other stormships?”
Syd shrugged. “Maybe to make Holdgate weaker. He’s made no secret of the fact that his long-term goal is to destroy the city, right? Even if it’s just another way to hurt you.”
“Okay, fine. But let’s look at The Foggy Day. He destroys the ship, which I get. But why take all of you captive? If he wants to hurt me, why not just kill you all?”
Syd thought about that. “He wanted you to imagine all the terrible things he could be doing to us?”
That didn’t track for Abbey, but she went with it. “If that was the case, why would he basically return you to me unharmed? It’s clear from his note he knew I was coming here. Wouldn’t it have been more horrific if I had found all of you dead? Or if he’d stayed here and fought me off so I’d once again fail to save my friends? Why would he just leave?”
Syd nodded slowly. “I see your point. But from what I saw of him, he’s pretty crazy. Why does there have to be any logic to what he’s doing?”
Abbey disagreed. Simon was crazy, yes, but he was also a planner. His scheme to recruit soldiers for the Algonian army had been brilliant. He’d been planning this a long time, and he’d proven over the past three days that he was capable of staying one step ahead of them.
She believed Simon had a plan, and that allowing her to take Kraken and save her friends was a key piece in the puzzle. She wasn’t going to argue with Syd about it, though—not now after they’d just been reunited.
Only time would tell which one of them was correct.
“You want to h
ear something funny?” Syd said. “I managed to pull a fast one on him while I was in the cargo hold. I found out some of the recruits were trading information for extra rations, so I fed those people some false information.”
“Nice move.”
“Yeah, but here’s the thing. When he confronted me and I told him the information was false, you should have seen the look on his face. I think I genuinely hurt his feelings. He seemed shocked that I would play a trick on him. It was like he thought we were going to be buddies.” She shook her head in disbelief. “I’m telling you, Abbey—something’s not right about that man.”
“I won’t disagree with you there,” Abbey said.
After a moment, Syd nudged Abbey. “Hey, do me a favor, would you?”
“Of course.”
She gestured toward the main deck. “Find somebody who’s not working and yell at them for me.”
Abbey cocked an eyebrow. “Are you serious?”
“I am. We need to rebuild their sense of normalcy. Besides, we are at sea. We can’t have a crew that’s just wandering around with their thoughts the whole voyage. It’s time to get to work.”
Abbey shrugged. It had been a while since she’d gotten to yell at anyone. It might be fun. “Aye aye, Captain.”
***
“Is there anything I can do for you, Warlord Fannar?” the woman asked him.
They were in the warlord’s tent, surrounded by the same advisors who had gleefully suggested gruesome methods for Fannar’s execution only the night before. Now their demeanors were quite different. They all listened intently when he spoke, hanging on his every word and falling all over themselves to compliment him on everything from his battle prowess to the regal way he sat on his new throne.
It had only been twelve hours since he’d been named warlord, and Fannar was already exhausted.
He was about to tell the woman he didn’t need anything, when a thought occurred to him. “Actually, there is something you can do for me.”
She bowed her head humbly. “Anything, my Warlord.”
“You can tell me your name. I apologize…I’ve been with you all day and I never even thought to ask.”
Her cheeks turned a deep crimson. “Please, don’t apologize. I didn’t properly introduce myself when we met. It was just that you were in a…rather different position at the time.”
He waved the comment away. He didn’t need to be reminded he’d been their prisoner less than a day ago.
“My name is Tyra,” she said in a voice so soft it was almost a purr.
“Pleased to officially meet you, Tyra. I’m Fannar.”
She turned an even deeper shade of red at that.
Fannar turned his attention to the ten advisors in the tent. These men and women had eagerly introduced themselves almost immediately after he’d defeated Eril, probably wanting to make a good impression. Fannar had been a bit overwhelmed at the time, and he couldn’t remember a single one of their names.
He wasn’t about to ask for them again now. Not until he needed to. Instead, he addressed them as a group. “Just so we’re clear, I’m counting on all of you to advise me of any traditions I should be following. Is it customary to have a feast when there’s a new warlord? I’d like to do something nice for my soldiers.”
The advisors exchanged confused looks. The shortest, widest man among them took a step forward. He looked at Fannar with a benevolent patience, as if he were addressing an especially slow child. “Forgive me, Warlord, but did you not say you grow up in Barskall?”
Fannar sighed with frustration. “I did. In a small village in the south. Before yesterday, the closest I’d ever been to a warlord was when one marched through my village when I was nine. Forgive me if I’m not up on all the traditions.”
The man held up a hand. “Of course. I meant no offense. A feast would be a nice gesture, though don’t make it too extravagant or they’ll think you’re soft. And you might consider killing one or two of them between courses to remind them you’re not to be trifled with.”
“I don’t think that last part will be necessary, but yes, make the arrangements for the feast.”
The man nodded, then paused. Clearly there was something else he wanted to say.
“Go ahead,” Fannar prompted. “Speak your mind.”
“We were just thinking it might be a nice gesture if you were to execute the foreigners, my Warlord.”
“Foreigners?” It took Fannar a moment, then he got it. “You mean Elliot, Gideon, and Olaf? The ones I came here with?”
The man nodded. “It’s just that some in the camp might think your loyalty is not to the Barskall if your closest friends are two Holdgatesmen and a Gren.”
Fannar sighed. “That’s not happening. In fact, that will be all for tonight. Leave me.”
The advisors made a show of bowing and saluting him as they made their way out of his headquarters. When they were gone, Fannar headed for the tent where his friends were being housed.
Elliot grinned as Fannar pushed through the flap. “There he is! The warlord!”
“Stop,” Fannar demanded. He wondered if he was blushing as hard as Tyra had when he’d asked her name.
“Sorry,” Elliot said. “It’s just that we have so many questions.”
Fannar sighed. “Okay. Ask away.”
Elliot nodded at Olaf to proceed.
“So, is this like a lifetime appointment?” he asked.
Fannar shrugged. “Until someone kills me. So yeah, pretty much lifetime.”
“And do they have to do anything you say?”
That one was trickier. “Technically, yes. However, if I lose the support of the majority, or if they think I’m weak, they’ll kill me in my sleep.”
“Hmm,” Olaf said, rubbing his chin. “And can anyone just challenge you to single combat to take your place?”
“Only another warlord. Usually that’s someone who has an army of a comparable size to mine. Eril made the mistake of saying he was going to treat me as a warlord, which was why I was able to challenge him.”
They had quite a few more questions, but eventually the conversation moved to more mundane things. They were discussing their dinner and Fannar was trying to explain the broad strokes of Barskall cuisine when he noticed someone standing just outside the tent.
“Warlord Fannar, are you in there?”
He recognized the voice as Tyra’s. “Yes, come in.”
She bowed as she entered, then she handed him a small piece of parchment. “This just came for you. Delivered by an Algonian soldier.”
Fannar exchanged a worried glance with Elliot, then he broke the seal and unfolded the parchment.
Eril,
The time has come. We attack Holdgate the night of the new moon. Your patience will be rewarded with treasure beyond your dreams. We will burn the city to the ground.
Simon
He turned to Tyra. “How far are we from Holdgate?”
She looked surprised that he didn’t know that information. “We are about two days northeast of Holdgate.”
He nodded, thinking about the timeline. The new moon was three days away. If he could get there before the attack, he might be able to help fight off the Algonians.
Something about this felt off. Why had Simon really sent him to kill Eril? He’d said it was because Eril no longer trusted him, but there was nothing in the tone of that note that indicated that was the case.
And he must have sent that messenger almost immediately after he sent Fannar and his friends.
“Tyra, there’s been a change of plans. We’re riding out tomorrow as early as possible.”
Tyra smiled widely. “Finally, a battle! The warriors will be so pleased.” She scurried out of the tent to spread the word.
“What’s going on, my friend?” Gideon asked.
Fannar showed them the note.
“If this is true, we need to get back to Holdgate as quickly as possible,” Elliot pointed out.
“Yes,” Fannar
said. “And we’re going to bring an army with us.”
Elliot scratched his chin. “You’ve been warlord for all of one day. Do you really think you’re going to be able to get your army to switch sides? You said yourself that they’d kill you if you lost majority support.”
“That’s true,” Fannar agreed. “But I’ve been thinking about that. I believe I might have a way to win them over to our cause.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Kraken was allowed entry into the Holdgate port after narrowly avoiding a confrontation with the three stormships guarding the city. A frantic string of messages and counter-messages sent through flashes of light reflected off a mirror eventually convinced the stormships that they were friendlies.
Even so, they were met at the docks by the city guards. Roy, Benjamin, Syd, Dustin, Clemens, and Abbey were ordered to see the magistrate immediately.
As the city guards led them to the magistrate’s offices, Clemens cleared his throat. “Say, Captain Roy, you don’t think this is about that fact that we abandoned our posts on Thunderclap, is it?”
Roy chuckled. “I think that may come up during the course of our conversation.”
“Wait!” Abbey exclaimed. “You didn’t have permission to come rescue us?”
Benjamin smiled. “I guess it’s time you found out the truth, Abbey. Your old man’s a rebel.”
Just as Roy had predicted, their desertion of Thunderclap did indeed come up early in the conversation. They’d barely taken their places around the long rectangular table when the magistrate leaned forward and glared at Captain Roy and Clemens.
“Which of you would like to explain why the captain and Storm Caller of my flagship disappeared while the city was under the threat of attack by an army of Barskall?”
“I will,” Benjamin said immediately. “See, I asked you for help to find The Foggy Day and you refused, so a few of us decided to take on the mission ourselves. I convinced Captain Roy and Clemens to help because I knew they were emotionally attached to the crew of The Foggy Day.”
The magistrate stared at him, wide-eyed at his honesty.