Ocean Of Fear (Book 6)

by William King

“That makes no sense,” said Zamara. “Slavers take men in their prime and young women. That’s not what happened here.”

  “I know who they took,” the boy said. “I saw them go.”

  “Which way?” Zamara asked. “Out to sea—towards the Sunset Islands?” It was a way of asking whether they had sailed west.

  The boy shook his head. “They went upriver.”

  The captain looked at him open-mouthed. “Upriver. Are you sure?”

  “Yes—they had oars out and they went up against the current. It was not what I would have expected either.”

  The captain shook his head. “That can’t be right.”

  The woman said, “It is right. We watched them carefully. You would too, if your life depended on it.”

  “Why would they do that?” Frater Jonas asked.

  “You would need to ask them,” Lorenzo said. “I just know that’s the way they went.”

  “What’s up river?” Kormak asked.

  “Elves,” said the boy. “And a lot of them. We used to see them watching us from the edge of the forest.”

  “They ever attack you?”

  “Why should they? We never attacked them and we always respected the woods. The Preacher made us.”

  “Then we’ve caught him,” said Jonas. “All we need to do is wait here and we’ll catch him when he comes back downriver.”

  “If he comes back downriver,” Kormak said.

  “He has to,” said Zamara.

  “We can’t be certain of that. There are two more estuaries within a score of leagues from here. Your own charts show that. How do we know that those rivers are not connected? They might be able to take another route back.”

  “We could split the fleet and cover the river mouths,” said Frater Jonas.

  The captain shook his head. “It would surrender our main advantage. We have three ships to his one.”

  “We could follow him upriver,” said Kormak. He watched the captain make some calculations in his head.

  “The Marlin and the Sea Dragon are ocean-going cogs converted for war. They draw too deep to go far upriver. Only the Ocean’s Blade could follow under oar.”

  “And we would surrender our advantage,” said Frater Jonas.

  “Not necessarily,” said Zamara. “We could pack the ship with marines. We’d have a numerical advantage in fighting men.”

  “You’d need to carry supplies as well.”

  “We have the supplies, Frater, and we could put the men on half-rations.”

  “Are you seriously considering following this pirate upriver?”

  The captain nodded. “There’s a chance we may overhaul him and take him by surprise. And it certainly beats waiting here for an indefinite period of time for a foe that might never come back this way. Who might even get lost in the jungle.”

  Zamara was convincing himself. He was one of those officers who preferred glory to waiting. And the Kraken had a large bounty on his head. This expedition might make Zamara’s fortune if he was successful.

  “We can leave the other two ships here to blockade the river mouth in case, he somehow slips past us.”

  He began to shout orders. Within ten minutes the village was clear and men and provisions were being transhipped to the Ocean’s Blade. The survivors refused to leave their village. Kormak wondered what would become of them.

  Kormak stood on the prow of the ship once more, studying the forest as it glided by. At this point the nameless river was wide and slow. A sailor with a plumb-line stood nearby measuring the depth and counting it off.

  The Guardian wondered what would happen if the river became too shallow to navigate or was blocked by some obstacle. He consoled himself with the thought that anything that could impede the progress of the Ocean’s Blade would also stop the pirate as well.

  Or would it? The Kraken was a sorcerer and now there was this Black Priest to consider as well. He had asked the survivors about his magic but he had not got any more out of them than from his initial questioning.

  Sandaled footsteps from behind him told him that Frater Jonas was approaching. The sailors all went barefoot, the marines wore boots and the captain had a heavier stride.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” the priest asked in a confidential tone. He studied the undergrowth by the riverbank with nervous eyes. He ducked his head as the ship swept through a curtain of vines.

  “No,” Kormak said. “But what else could we do? Wait for the Kraken to come back? He might never do that.”

  “You really think there’s an alternative route.”

  “He might be wiped out. The elfwoods can be a hostile place for mortal men.”

  “You sound as if you have had experience of that.”

  “I have.”

  A movement among the trees got his attention. Something was there, among the shadows. A deer emerged.

  “I doubt we are going to be so lucky as to find the forest has swallowed our prey.”

  “I fear you are correct.”

  “It seems strange that a salt water pirate like the Kraken should suddenly decide on a river voyage.”

  “It seems strange to me that a sorcerer should turn pirate and start raiding the coasts of Siderea,” Kormak said. “But it has happened. It’s why I am here. The Trefal Merchant’s Guild made a sizeable donation to my Order to ensure it.”

  “You think there is a connection between the Kraken being a sorcerer and this little excursion through elf country?”

  “Terves was right—we have no idea what is really up here. There could be anything within these woods. They stretch hundreds of miles east of here, all the way to Taurea, and no man has ever crossed them.”

  “Or has at least recorded the tale, you are right about that. I’ve heard stories of everything being up here from giant walking trees to a lost city of the Old Ones.”

  The water swirled by the prow of the ship. The sweeps moved in time to the drumbeat. Frater Jonas stood by his side in companionable silence till eventually the Guardian spoke, “He’s here for a reason. He has to be. Why come all this way otherwise.”

  “This Black Priest—what do you think he is?” There was a curious edge to Jonas’s voice.

  “I don’t know. It may be an Old One bound to service by soul pact or it may be an apprentice.”

  “A strange apprentice who seems more powerful than most masters.”

  Kormak tilted his head and stared at Jonas. The little priest smiled. “Magic is studied openly in Siderea, Sir Kormak, and I have found it necessary to learn about it. Sorcery is no easy thing to work. To so swiftly summon the sort of creatures this one did beggars belief. An archmage would struggle to do such a thing and, thank the Light, there are few of those in this world. If this being is as powerful as those poor people implied I fear even you, with your formidable blade and your formidable talents, might struggle to overcome it. And it is the servant...”

  “Is it?” Kormak said.

  “Ah, now that is an interesting question,” said Frater Jonas. “Perhaps the man we are pursuing is not the one we want at all. Perhaps it is this Black Priest, although I suspect priest is very much the wrong word to describe him.”

  Kormak studied the priest. He was taking all of this rather too well. Most priests would have been filled with righteous fury or simple terror at the thought of what the Kraken and his companion had done. “You may be right,” Kormak said.

  Frater Jonas made a small grimace that might have been a smile.

  “Blessings of the Light upon you, brother,” he said then he bowed and made the Sign of the Sun before he walked away.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “I NOTICE YOU were chatting with our ship’s chaplain earlier,” said Captain Zamara. He used his handkerchief to wave away the cloud of midges that floated above the river in the early evening light. Kormak wondered if he should be flattered at the captain descending from the command deck to speak with him.

  “I suspect he is more than the ship’s chaplain.�
�� Kormak said.

  “You are a perceptive man.” There was just the faintest hint of irony in the captain’s voice. Zamara walked over to the man checking the plumb-line. He counted to himself, making sure the sailor was doing his job correctly. He walked back over to Kormak, leaned against the deck rail and said, “Frater Jonas is a spy and something more, I think. He has a reputation at court for being an expert on occult matters.”

  “You think he is a sorcerer?”

  “The good Frater was an inquisitor before he took up his position as spiritual advisor at the Imperial Palace. He hunted witches and burned malefactors.”

  Kormak nodded. Perhaps it was not just Jonas’s accent that made Zamara dislike him. Inquisitors were feared. In Siderea, even the mightiest might be brought down by an accusation of witchcraft.

  Zamara said, “He was assigned to me as fleet-chaplain just before we departed on this mission. He had been with us only a few days longer than you have.”

  “As chaplain? Not as an inquisitor?”

  “Exactly so.”

  “From the Palace Imperial to the under-decks of a warship in a few days. That is a big change.”

  Zamara’s lips quirked into a humourless smile. “Perhaps he has displeased his superiors. Or the King-Emperor.”

  “Or perhaps there is another reason,” said Kormak.

  “Perhaps. Rumour has it that our Frater Jonas reports only to the head of his Order and the King-Emperor himself. His Order has tentacles everywhere. The tip concerning the Kraken’s course and heading came from their agents.”

  Kormak considered this but said nothing.

  Zamara remained quiet for a few heartbeats then said, “I disliked having him aboard as much as I disliked having you foisted on me. I confess that since hearing that boy’s tale of demons I am rather glad you are both here. Cold steel, wild seas and decks awash with gore I do not mind. Sorcery sets my blood to freezing and this Black Priest... I like not the sound of him at all.”

  Zamara fell silent and stared out into the gathering gloom. He seemed to making some form of judgement as he watched the waters of the river flow sluggishly by. He nodded to himself, said something to the man with the plumb-line and said, “Good evening, Sir Kormak.”

  The captain withdrew to the sterncastle, wrapped himself in his cloak and took a seat in the great wooden chair beside the steersman’s wheel. As Kormak watched, Terves brought him a cup of hot wine.

  Kormak put his back against the guard-rail and closed his eyes. The day had given him much to think about and it was time to take his rest.

  A scream rang out through the night. Kormak woke to the sound of thrashing on the deck and a horrible crunching noise. He rose to his feet. A massive form moved nearby, scales catching the lantern light. A screaming man’s head protruded from a mound of what looked like cables. A cracking sound told of the man’s ribs being broken.

  A ghost snake, Kormak thought, one of the great forest constrictors. It must have dropped from the trees above and enveloped the struggling marine. Other soldiers dithered around the enwrapped man. They ran to and fro, panicked, not realising what was happening, fearing that a demon had emerged from the forest to claim their souls.

  Kormak sprang to his feet. His blade slid from the scabbard. He aimed just below the reflected glitter of the lantern light in the creature’s eyes, hoping to sever its head. At the last moment, as if sensing its danger, the snake unwound from around its prey. The dwarf-forged blade slid through the great coils of muscle in its lower body.

  The creature hissed and thrashed in agony. Its muscular length hit one of the hanging lanterns, knocking it from its post. The lantern crashed to the deck, spilling oil and then igniting it. A stream of flame flowed across the deck, giving sudden flickering illumination to the scene.

  Men shrieked when they saw the gigantic serpent and the flopping corpse of its victim revealed in the firelight. They threw themselves away from the monster. Some dived into the water.

  Sailors bellowed with fear of another sort, the age-old terror of unleashed fire that every nautical man dreaded. The ship’s decks and ropes were caulked with tar. Sailors kept their pigtails in place with it. The pitchy stuff burned all too easily.

  The monster twisted to face Kormak, long neck rising out of a mound of coils. Its head swayed from side to side. Its forked tongue flickered as if tasting the air. The snake’s upper body reached to almost twice Kormak’s height. Stretched out, the thing might be half as long as the ship.

  Zamara yelled from the command deck and the sailors responded to the authority of his voice. A man picked up a bucket of water and rushed towards the flames, tossing the contents into their midst, causing them to sputter and steam. Other sailors held back, afraid of the great beast.

  A black feathered crossbow bolt thunked into the deck near Kormak and stood there quivering. Another ripped the night air over his shoulder. Panicked crossbowmen fired at the snake.

  A couple of bolts quivered in the coils of the scaly horror. The ghost snake struck, head arcing down towards Kormak. Ignoring the bolts all around him, he lashed out with his blade, severing the creature’s head. Cold blood fountained, splashing the furled sails. Coils exploded outwards and ripped through the air like a gigantic whip, knocking men flying, smashing into more lanterns, creating mayhem and chaos.

  More oil splashed everywhere. The flames spread. Men kept firing their crossbows at the serpent, unaware that the thing was dead. Some of them hit their target in the tricky light. Others hit their companions.

  Zamara still shouted orders, striding forward himself with a bucket of water and splashing it into the flames. A big bosun leapt in and started beating on the fire with a sailcloth.

  As the snake ceased to writhe, the soldiers and crew fought down their panic and began to bring the fire under control. In the moonlight shining through the trees, Kormak caught sight of shadowy figures watching them from the undergrowth. They withdrew into the darkness, as if aware they had been spotted and unwilling to be seen.

  “It was most likely pure chance,” said Kormak, glancing at the forest. “The snake was disturbed by our passage, dropped onto the deck and killed the sailor by pure instinct.”

  Frater Jonas looked out over the guard-rail into the gloom under the trees. “They say the elves of the forest can control its beasts.”

  There was still a smell of burning in the air even though all the fires had been put out. Wounded men lay stretched out on blood-stained blankets, groaning despite the grog they had drunk to dull the pain. No one wanted to sleep. Everyone looked nervous.

  “You think they put the snake up to attacking us?” Kormak said.

  “They were out there, watching, I saw them. The elves have no reason to love men and many reasons to hate us.”

  “If they wanted us dead, they could have attacked from the riverbank while we were distracted by the fire and the serpent. Elves are deadly shots.”

  Jonas nodded. “It is not the only possibility. Perhaps the Kraken too can control such beasts. There are spells that would let him do it.”

  “How would he even know we are here? He does not know we are hunting him?”

  The priest tilted his head to one side like a bird considering a worm. “There are spells of divination that could reveal our presence. And those are not the only methods of finding things out. Many folk in Siderea sell secrets for a share of pirate spoils. It is possible that our prey is forewarned of our presence.”

  Kormak’s own instincts were also to think the worst in situations like this. “We had best be prepared for more attacks.”

  “I have mentioned the possibility to our captain. He may not like me but he understands reason when it is presented to him.”

  The priest stood silent for a moment, glanced at the wounded. “I do not like this place,” he said. “I do not like being here. I do not like the sense that something terrible could happen at any moment.”

  “It’s not like being back in the palace, is it?”
Kormak said.

  The priest laughed. “On the contrary, it is very similar. Both are treacherous environments, full of danger.”

  Kormak found himself smiling. Frater Jonas kept talking. His voice was quiet and reflective. “I grew up in a small village on the great plateau. My parents kept a wine shop and their own small fields. It was too cold in winter, too hot in summer but I loved the place. Life was simple. I sometimes wish I had stayed there.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “I was good with my letters, quick, sharp - the local priest saw possibilities in me. I was sent to one of the Order of the Sun’s schools. I was educated, trained, dispatched on the Order’s business, eventually I found my way to court. Your own life must have been very similar.”

  “Yes,” Kormak said. He was wary. He had known other men who exchanged small confidences in the hopes of gaining larger ones. The priest looked thoughtful and sincere, but there were many who had that gift. If Jonas noticed his sudden reticence he gave no sign.

  “An Aquilean in the Order of the Dawn—I thought you hill-men were all heathens.”

  Kormak very much doubted that. Jonas was an educated man. He was also no doubt familiar with the technique of saying something provocative just to get a response. “Some are believers. Some are not.”

  “Much the same as anywhere else then,” said Jonas. “How did you come to join your Order?”

  The question hung there in the air. Kormak considered for a moment and said, “My village was wiped out by an Old One when I was a child. I was the only survivor. The Guardian hunting the killer took me back to Mount Aethelas.”

  Frater Jonas looked a little embarrassed. “I am sorry. I was merely curious.”

  “It was all a long time ago.”

  “Did the Guardian ever catch the Old One?”

  “No. The creature is still out there. He said he would come back for me one day. He has done such things before.”

  “Is that why the Order trained you?”

  “Perhaps. Or perhaps they simply saw the potential in me, as your Order saw the potential in you.”