The Living Sword

by Pemry Janes

  Eurik didn't bother explaining who might be out there. It could be fishermen. They'd encountered a few of those already, or a patrol ship from Linese. Those ventured out into these waters from time to time too. A trading ship was unlikely on this course, unless they were orcs. But orcs freely mixed trade and plunder, with little warning when they switched from one to the other. And orcs had attacked the Ichiru in the past. Sometimes those attacks had not been stopped.

  Time passed as the crew and passengers waited for the ship to get closer, waited for the lookout to tell them who it was. The creaking and groaning of the wood mixed with the clapping of the sail to fill the silence that had descended upon the Ichiru.

  At last, the lookout spoke up. “Orcs! It's an orcish longship!”

  “Judging from that, it's not a fishing boat,” Patheos concluded. He looked around. “And we don't have a lot of people to fend off a boarding party of orcs. Of course, that doesn't matter. The orcs won't attack a ship whose crew can command the sea and the wind.”

  “Actually, orcs have attacked san ships in the past. And some of those attacks weren't repelled. That's why everybody's on edge.”

  “When was the last time they tried?”

  “Hmm, I'm not sure. I know I was very young at the time...”

  “Twelve years ago,” Hoyashi told them joining the conversation. “Guren of Loiran managed to gather three other captains under his command, and ambushed our ship on its return journey. It failed, but we still lost Saphaoh and Zothohi. I knew them well.” The captain said no more.

  Patheos turned his attention back to Eurik. “So we might have a fight on our hands. I think I can still handle an orc or two, but how much can you do, away from land?”

  “Enough,” Eurik assured the scholar. Retrieving a few copper coins from the folds of his sash he showed them to Patheos. “My sesin gave me these to use out in the world, but they'll serve a purpose now as well. There's enough chiri here to strengthen my body or I can turn them into a very effective projectile. Don't worry, I'm not defenseless.”

  The old Linesan grunted. “At least you're not fool enough to try and swing that sword of yours around in a sea-battle without any training. Guess we'll be fine then.” His gaze went out over the water. He didn't look reassured to Eurik.

  For all the suddenness with which the orcish ship had appeared, it still took more than an hour before it got close enough for Eurik to actually see them. The lookout hadn't identified the ship based on who was aboard her, but on the vessel itself. Humans went for plain sails, though both races liked to decorate their bowheads. The ship coming towards them had a bow ending in a bull's head, and its sail showed a seagull with an eye in its beak. Eurik didn't recognize the symbol, but there were so many. Rare was the orc that owned more than one ship, and there were a lot of ships; certainly more than there were islands in the sea.

  Now everybody could see the orcs. From afar they looked like san, with their green skin and tall bodies. But san didn't have ears, or hair like a horse's mane flowing from the top of their head down their back. And their eyes didn't catch the sunlight like a san's would.

  On the other ship, the orcs looked back at them and more than one of them held a weapon as they sailed past. Only the orc at the helm, their leader, kept his eyes forward as if their ship didn't exist. Still, Eurik didn't relax. Orcs would only be led where they wanted to go, and it was looking like this captain hadn't done a good job in convincing his crew to follow him.

  “They look unhappy,” Patheos observed.

  “If they were going to defy their leader, they would have done it before now,” Eurik reasoned. “There's no way they'd catch us when we're both sailing with the wind.” Still, even he only started to feel better when the longship shrank into the distance.

  ***

  The seagulls bobbing in the sea indicated they were approaching land. The increase in traffic told Eurik they were getting closer to Linese. He counted six ships in the gloom of the setting sun, including two low-slung warships escorting a sleek ship with two masts. A long purple banner flew from one of them.

  “And here I thought I'd done a good job keeping track of time,” Patheos mused as he joined Eurik at the railing.

  “What do you mean?”

  The scholar's hand swept out to indicate the small convoy on their right. “Behold, one of the traditions of my people. That ship carries the report of the High Governor on the state of the Overseas Provinces to Nese. When I was young they sent it every year, now it's only once every five.”

  Eurik frowned. “But... there has been no contact with the other continent in 240 years.”

  Patheos chuckled. “Oh, the scroll is probably empty. And High Governor Alexandrios II is supposed to have filled his with poetry. The custom hails back all the way to the invasion itself, when General Parmenos sent word back to Nese that the army had landed. No reply came back, of course, so he sent another ship, and when he didn't hear back from that one, he sent another.”

  “I know that. I did read your manuscript,” Eurik reminded him. “What I'm asking is why Pelagrian kept up the practice, given that he took over from Parmenos on the basis that they had to accept no reinforcements would come from Nese. If he knew the ships would never reach their destination, why send them at all?”

  “Because he knew that the connection mattered. The ships, the reports, they are a reminder that we're not just another kingdom, that we're part of something bigger. But Pelagrian wasn't a fool. That's why he stopped using warships, and crewed them with criminals. If they managed the journey, they would be pardoned, if they didn't ...” Patheos shrugged.

  “However,” the scholar went on, “that too is part of history now. These days it's an entire festival. The city turns out to watch the courier leave and young nobles compete over the chance to captain the Pelagrian. Those warships aren't there anymore to guard prisoners, but to escort the courier past the Orcish Isles. There they wait a day, and then they all sail back. But if it is a more useful piece of history you are interested in, why don't you look there,” Patheos said as he pointed past the bow.

  Eurik looked and saw what at first glance appeared to be a star peaking over the horizon. Except the light was off, bigger than any star he'd seen, but not as bright. “The Star of Alexandrios. I read about it in Barsoc's guide to—”

  “Barsoc?! Your first glimpse of one of the marvels of the City and you bring up the scribblings of that Volsomer.”

  “I thought his tour of Linese to be very descriptive,” he replied mildly.

  “Descriptive, he says,” Patheos grouched. “Oh, he was descriptive alright. He managed to subscribe to just about every rumor and old wives' tale in one small volume. Like his warning about Nosferatu in the sewers. He couldn't be satisfied with the goblins that are actually there, he has to emphasize not to venture into them by having demonically infested corpses wandering the tunnels underneath the city. That's how you can tell it was written for Volsomers, they need to have the danger spelled out for them. You're better off with Xerxen or Telemachaios, both of them born and raised in the City.”

  “Barsoc himself lived in Linese for five years. He must have gotten to know the city and its people quite well in that time,” Eurik countered. His face was starting to hurt from holding back his laughter.

  “More like every gambling house and thug,” Patheos muttered.

  Eurik finally broke down. A moment later the Linesan joined him with a dry chuckle.

  In the east, the sun sank into the sea.

  Chapter 3

  The City

  While every book about Linese mentioned the Star of Aleixandros, it was not actually built near the city. In fact, you couldn't see the city even from the top of the tower; the lighthouse merely marked the entrance into Ciroth's Bay. Still, it was a marvel Eurik kept staring at as darkness fell. The Ichiru passed the lighthouse, and still he kept standing there.

  He knew he should go to bed. They wouldn't reach Linese until first light, where
this journey would end and another would begin. He would need his mind clear and rested to navigate the biggest city in the world. But he stayed at the railing and stared as the landscape passed them by. Not that there was much of it; only cliff-sides topped with a dark carpet of grass. Ships passed them in the night, from rowed galleys to fat, two-masted tubs crawling their way out of the bay.

  On the shore, cliffs shrank and gave way to sloping hills ending in sandy beaches, and Eurik got his first glimpse of a human house. Several posts with torches illuminated the building and its surroundings. It sat on the top of the hill amidst neat rows of small, identical trees. Like the lighthouse, it was bigger than the houses back on the island. But where the lighthouse had been tall, this house was wide. He didn't recognize the stone it was made from. Something reddish, with a sheen that reflected the light of the torches.

  “There must be a lot of people living there,” Eurik mused.

  “Not as many as you think.”

  Startled, he turned around to look at the silhouette of Hoyashi. “What... what do you mean?”

  The master nodded towards the shore and the house. “While many humans live there, most of them do not call it home. They reside there to serve its owner, who probably only lives there a couple of months in any given year. Most of the building's space is reserved for the owner's comfort while the servants reside somewhere out of sight.”

  “I see.” Eurik's gaze went back to the house. “Then that is a villa. It certainly looks grand.”

  Hoyashi made a sound. “Go to bed, Eurik. We won't reach the truly remarkable sights until tomorrow. There will be more light to see them by, too.”

  He opened his mouth to say ... something, but closed it again when he couldn't figure out what that something was. Inclining his head, he made his way to his sleeping mat. As he closed his eyes, Eurik knew what he'd wanted to say. 'But tomorrow, there will be a sight I won't see again for a long time.'

  ***

  An unfamiliar sound woke Eurik up. The light filtering through the tent-cloth told him it was morning now, but his waking mind still could not place the distant, vague, a constant murmur. Eurik nearly crawled out of cover when he remembered what was supposed to happen today. “Is that the sound of a city?” he wondered out loud.

  There was only one way to find out, so he rolled up his mat and gathered up Misthell and his pack. He didn't want to disturb the still slumbering Patheos. Chewing on a dried strip of meat, he crawled out of the tent. Once out, Eurik got to his feet and turned towards the bow. A forest of masts and rope surrounded them. It looked like every ship in the world had been gathered in one place.

  Beyond this armada were shapes. They rose higher and higher, regular but not similar; not all of them. His eyes did not comprehend what they saw. They were made out of wood and stone, plastered and painted in several colors, which had then faded and chipped. At last his mind made the connection between what he saw and what he knew. 'That's Linese.'

  They were buildings. Hundreds upon hundreds of them. None of them as grand as the villa or as tall as the lighthouse he had seen on the way here, but gathered in one place this multitude easily dwarfed it. The city stretched out as far as the eye could see, the only breaks in this skyline were two broad waterways that had to be the river Endria.

  Towering above the city a sprawling structure of red stone was topped by a golden dome reflecting the rising sun as it peaked through a patchwork of clouds. It was the Paleidrome. Eurik recalled the words of Barsoc. “If politics are the lifeblood of Linese, than the Paleidrome is the heart.”

  As the ship drew nearer, the sounds coming over the water grew more distinct too. There were so many of them. Ships groaned as they bobbed in the surf, feet stepped and stomped on wood and stone, cartwheels rattled, and through it all people talked, screamed, sang, and yelled. One of the voices sounded awfully close.

  Eurik looked around and noticed they had an extra passenger this morning. A man with weathered skin wearing an off-white tunic and gray leggings stood next to Hoyashi and pointed something out. It turned out to be the empty dock that the Ichiru glided towards. The sail had been raised, and the ship now moved on the currents Hoyashi manipulated.

  'Must be a pilot,' he concluded. Eurik gave the man a closer look. He went barefoot and was missing a finger on his left hand. His face was pockmarked and his hair was graying, but Eurik was starting to think the pilot was younger than Patheos. Much younger even. There weren't that many wrinkles on his face and they weren't as deep as the scholar's.

  Speaking of Patheos, sounds coming from the tent signaled he had woken up. “Good morning,” Eurik said as the scholar crawled out.

  “For the young maybe,” Patheos grumbled. “I'm a little too old now to be chipper after spending several nights on a floor.” He stretched his back, producing several popping sounds. “Your island is a paradise for the curious, but a nightmare for those who like a good night's rest.”

  The scholar joined him in gazing at the city. He took a deep breath. “First thing we do is find Graccio's so I can introduce you to a Linesan breakfast.” Patheos smacked his lips. “I haven't had any garum in so long I've started to forget the taste. And in the afternoon, we will go to the Forum Diie to catch a debate. I wonder what they're talking about these days?”

  Eurik gave the Linesan a smile. “Sounds interesting. And perhaps we could visit your, ah, family member after that and ask about my parents' ship.”

  “Of course. And even if Rolan can't find anything out, he can ask around. And then tonight, I can finally rest in a bed again.”

  Ichiru slowed to a crawl as it slid up against the wooden dock. Two of the crew jumped overboard towing ropes to secure the ship. Patheos went up to Hoyashi and thanked him for his hospitality while Eurik silently bowed before they both made their way off the ship. The young man couldn't help but look over his shoulder at the last piece of home he would see for a long time.

  “Patheos is-Ilad?” someone asked.

  Turning his attention away from the ship, Eurik saw a man dressed in green approach them. His clothes looked finer than the pilot's, though they were just as simple, except that this new person wore sandals.

  “Patheos is-Ilad?” he repeated.

  “That would be me,” the scholar confirmed.

  “Excellent. I bring an invitation from your benefactor,” the man said. He clearly addressed Patheos, but his eyes were busy looking over Eurik. “He is holding a dinner this evening and wishes for you to enlighten the discussions.”

  “I will of course attend.” The scholar turned to him. “It seems our plans for this afternoon will have to be postponed.”

  “I'm afraid C—your benefactor insisted you present yourself to him at the earliest opportunity. He is most eager to read your work.”

  Patheos opened his mouth in protest, but it clicked shut without him having uttered a word. With a great sigh, he drew Eurik away from the messenger. “This is most awkward. It seems my patron continues to insist on discretion and I must honor that. Your tour of Linese will have to wait until tomorrow, but there is another matter.”

  The scholar lapsed into silence again. Eurik thought he knew what was causing the problem. “You should know that I am aware of your people's customs regarding guests. I know that without you there to introduce me, I cannot go to your family's home and expect a welcome. It's alright, I will figure something out.”

  “Nonsense,” a relieved-looking Patheos countered. “I'll give you some money to get a room. I know a good inn and those few coppers won't buy you much of anything,” he added when Eurik opened his mouth to protest. “And while a letter from me won't get you a place under my roof, it will suffice to get you the help you need in finding out more about your parents. Wait here, I'll be right back!” The last part was said loud enough that the man in green couldn't miss it.

  Patheos went back to the ship, leaving Eurik alone with the messenger in an awkward silence. He'd realized the man didn't trust him and also why.
He was a stranger. The messenger didn't know him and didn't seem to find it necessary to change that. It was a novel situation for Eurik. He'd rarely encountered strangers on the island, and when he did they'd always introduced themselves to him. But the messenger seemed content to sneak a glance at him every now and then while waiting for Patheos to come back.

  It took a while. Eurik got lost in watching the activity around him; the sailors scurrying over decks and rigging, men moving bales, sacks, and crates about. They sometimes had to go around small groups of people who were talking, or arguing. Across the harbor, a ship was being towed away from its dock by a pair of rowboats.

  All of this activity was done by pure muscle, not one of these people could use the Ways. Eurik had known about this for years, but seeing it was strange. Humans did have magic, a force that was potentially more versatile than chiri, but only a minority could use it.

  Finally, is-Ilad returned carrying a bag at his side and a sealed piece of paper in his hand. Eurik knew Patheos' belongings were going to be brought straight to his home by one of the crew, so the bag must hold his manuscript. “Here, this should get Rolan to help you. He works at Dogall & Sons, ask for Rolan Ilad. Oh, and take this too,” he said to Eurik as he retrieved three silver pieces and put them on top of the letter. “Now, you just need a guide.” With those words he started to walk down the docks.

  Eurik hastened to follow him. “Thank you,” he chose to say rather than a protest that he didn't need the money. It was clear Patheos wasn't taking no for an answer.

  “You were good company these past two years, and I did offer you my hospitality. This will have to do for the moment. Ah, there they are,” the scholar said and he headed for three children sitting on the edge of the wharf, their legs dangling over the water. They appeared to be fishing using a length of string wrapped around a piece of wood.