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The Ancient Ones (The Legacy Trilogy Book 3)

Page 23

by Michael Foster


  ‘Why could the magicians not make a stand? Why could they not be here, braving our adventure beside us?’

  ‘It is not that simple,’ Samuel replied impatiently.

  ‘Is it because you wanted their power?’

  ‘It is not!’ boomed the voice. ‘None of it came to me. The essence of every dead magician waits in the ether, waiting for Lin to take them.’

  ‘Ah.’ Leopold breathed deeply. ‘My father told me many stories of the world before the Darkening and of the many things you did. He spoke of you kindly, but I was disappointed to find that his perspective of you was distorted. He gave his life to you, Samuel, so that you would protect me and save the world. I just hope his faith in you was not misplaced.’

  ‘So do I,’ Samuel said to himself. Leopold went to leave, having heard enough, when the magician spoke up. ‘Leopold?’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘When you get outside ... varnish the rails.’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘Varnish the handrails. That’s what I said, Leopold.’

  ‘Which handrails?’ he asked with sheer disbelief, for the ship had endless lengths of railing around her and throughout the decks.

  ‘All of them.’

  Leopold sighed. With that, he took his lamp from the chamber, leaving the magician and the room in darkness once more.

  ****

  A few days later, a commotion stirred amongst the sailors and Leopold hurried to see what they were pointing at, far off in the distance. A large shape loomed upon the horizon, an island with an enormous snaking neck, and it arched its head up and down, diving beneath the waves before surfacing in an explosion of spray. Dark forms flitted around in the sky above it, too large to be birds, roosting upon it when they could, flying madly into the sky as it submersed, waiting for it to reappear to once more rest upon its back.

  ‘A gargantuan devil, heading north,’ someone said beside him, startling him. It was Captain Orrell.

  ‘I hope we do not bump into one on our voyage,’ Leopold returned.

  ‘We will. We have passed many and met other strange creatures such as that which Samuel destroyed before. Thankfully, we have avoided them until now, but they thicken by the day. Our passage into the south is dependent upon Samuel. He clears the path before us.’

  ‘We need the magician to protect us from such beasts, but I lack your faith in him, Captain. I fear that when we get to our destination we may find ourselves misled.’

  ‘Oh?’ the captain said with interest. ‘How so?’

  ‘I am not sure. What he has said is built from lies. Did you know we have a Truthseeker amongst us? Two in fact.’

  ‘Who would they be?’ the captain said with concern.

  ‘Daneel is one. He admitted it in Cintar. He killed a magician before my very eyes. He had your men dispose of the body and I assume the secret has gone undiscovered. The other Truthseeker is Samuel. He is their leader.’

  The captain stared at Leopold intently, discerning if he was serious. ‘These are grave accusations, Your Highness.’

  ‘They are true. Speak to the magician. He will not deny it.’

  ‘I intend to, but it only raises further problems. What if they are Truthseekers? We cannot turn our ship about, nor can we punish them—we need them both. We cannot stop this voyage. The hopes of the people of Amandia are riding with us.’

  ‘That is the problem. I believe they are false hopes. We will find no salvation with Lord Samuel. He is leading us to our demise.’

  Orrell looked grim. ‘Leave it to me. I will find a way to ask them about this. Do not tell anyone. I do not want trouble with the crew.’

  The captain left Leopold and strode quickly away, headed for his cabin and worried.

  ****

  It was an hour later when a crewman found Leopold, bearing Captain Orrell’s summons. Leopold heeded the call swiftly, striding down the passage to the captain’s room, eager to hear the result of his investigations.

  Orrell waited, sitting at his small desk fronting the window, bathed in a dusty shaft of light. ‘Come in, Your Majesty.’ He opened his palm welcomingly. ‘Please, sit down.’

  Leopold did so, eagerly. ‘What did you learn?’

  ‘I spoke to Daneel and I met with the magician. They denied your claims.’

  Leopold was flabbergasted. ‘That lying devil!’

  ‘We have no proof and they refuted the accusations. What can I do?’

  ‘Is my word not worth anything? Is being the Emperor of no consequence? Could emperors of the past not order someone’s head removed and it was done at once, without fuss or remonstration?’

  ‘Calm, please, Your Majesty. Of course your word is of value, but I strongly advise we do nothing—for now.’

  ‘Did you not speak to your men? Someone must have seen Tulan’s body or have heard of the tale.’

  ‘I asked around, but no one knows anything. Daneel has a small group of my men at his disposal, and although sworn to me, I know they are fiercely loyal to him. They would not give him away. We do not have enough to go on. All we can do is wait and see if any evidence comes to light. Until then ... my hands are tied. In truth I hope we do not learn anything. I cannot afford to have Samuel offside. None of us can.’

  Leopold was furious. ‘Damn him and damn this ship!’ he said, gaining his feet and stamping about the room. He wanted to grab an object and smash it to the floor, but his last shreds of sense held tight and he refrained from the indulgence.

  ‘Listen, Leopold.’ The captain’s voice was strong and assuring. He had often dealt with furious people, including upset kings, generals and many of their wives. ‘Do not get worked up. We are stuck on this ship. Remain focussed on our goal. I know Samuel. I will talk to him and see if he will open up to me. I don’t like my chances, but perhaps he will explain why he has done what he has done.’

  Leopold stopped his ranting and looked to the captain, feeling calm. There was no point arguing. Orrell’s mind was decided—he was with Samuel.

  Leopold nodded. ‘You are right.’

  ‘Before you go, I wanted to ask you something else. It is a different matter—about Jessicah.’

  Leopold furrowed his brow. ‘What about her?’

  ‘My men have been suspicious of her since we rescued her in Cintar. They do not believe it natural that she could have survived there unscathed. Is there nothing else you can tell me about her?’

  Leopold felt immediately warm inside. That’s it! He had forgotten that little secret. He would not tell the captain now, for once he did his advantage would be lost. Better to build the stakes first, until the knowledge that she was indeed Rei became a better bargaining tool.

  ‘No, Captain.’

  ‘Good,’ the man said with a relieved sigh. He cleared his throat, set to broach another uncomfortable subject. ‘If it is not too delicate a matter, I would ask something else. You speak to her often … has she mentioned me?’

  ‘I am unsure what you mean—’ Leopold said before stopping, as it dawned what the man was talking about. ‘Oh! Why, yes, Captain. She speaks highly of you. She is very keen on you indeed. I thought you knew?’

  Orrell was pleased with the response. The moment passed and he was again his sober self, shuffling papers on his desk. ‘I need to review my weekly reports. If that’s all you need, then good day, Your Majesty.’

  Leopold smiled in return. ‘And good day to you too, Captain.’

  ****

  The voyage dragged on. Days passed, then weeks; the journey would never end. Thankfully, they met little trouble along the way: several minor breakages below decks were soon fixed, rigging needed mending—nothing of consequence, and the wind remained fair at their backs.

  Samuel kept Leopold busy with unending menial tasks, never allowing him rest, never willing to let his aches and blisters heal before setting him to some other unnecessary chore—which Leopold saw to stubbornly, unwilling to concede, never granting the man the satisfaction of compla
ining or cutting corners.

  Many of the sailors kept their distance from Samuel whenever he appeared on deck, muttering and cursing on sight of him, postulating the vileness of what he was doing with his accursed coffin in his cabin.

  Others mentioned how well their journey was faring and how there were no rats or lice or any of the usual pestilences, how not one of them had taken ill since he had last cast his spell over them. Some called it unnatural and unwanted, yet the growing minority called it a blessing.

  Jessicah was most often in the company of Lady Wind, which was understandable: the only two women on the ship. When he was with her, Leopold became angry, annoyed. He strove desperately for the right words; the more he tried, the more he felt a fool. She regarded him strangely, and on one occurrence he caught her turning away upon sight of him, hoping to evade him. Leopold burned inside. He could do nothing, except keep his distance. Better that than drive her away altogether. He only wished there was something he could do to win her favour.

  ****

  To maintain alertness, Captain Orrell had his men exercising and engaging in swordplay on the deck at regular intervals, and they suffered not from lack of space. They had enough room to ride horses at full charge if they wished; not that they had any.

  Leopold watched, surprised when the captain called him down from his perch upon the stairs after the men had finished their drills.

  ‘Leopold, come here!’ he called.

  Leopold obeyed and when they met, the captain offered him the handle of his blade.

  ‘What’s this?’ Leopold asked.

  ‘Come, no point wasting this time. You are an emperor and you have a sword. It’s time to teach you how to use it.’

  ‘Oh, I wouldn’t know where to start,’ Leopold said, feeling uncomfortable as crew members gathered to watch.

  ‘I know. That’s the point.’

  ‘I couldn’t,’ Leopold insisted and he looked to the men, standing and watching him, waiting to see how a young emperor would fare in a fight. Would he share the legendary abilities of his father?

  ‘I see,’ the captain returned. ‘I shall clear the quarter deck. The crew have their business to go about, and I will ask them to refrain from loitering there for the next hour or two. Time is not to waste.’

  He led Leopold to the rear of the ship. It was relatively obstructed from view, except from those men working in the sails, with few around to ogle Leopold as he fumbled to learn. Captain Orrell taught him the basics of holding the sword, drawing and sheathing the blade, and not cutting his fingers off in the process.

  The captain sent for wooden practice blades and before they clattered them together Orrell showed Leopold how to face an opponent, to place his feet and keep balance. Finally, they chopped intermittently; Leopold felt ridiculous; many times he lowered his weapon, and declared it a waste of time.

  Under the captain’s instruction, he put his fears aside and undertook the task with enthusiasm, hacking wildly to defeat his instructor.

  ‘Calm, Leopold,’ the captain told him. ‘Don’t kill your teacher.’

  Leopold laughed foolishly, making a game of it.

  ‘Stop it, Leopold,’ Orrell then told him. ‘This is serious.’

  ‘No harm in enjoyment. A few minutes ago you were chastising me for not trying hard enough.’

  ‘Not paying attention causes harm. We’ll see how much you laugh when your thumb flies to the deck.’

  Leopold held up his wooden blade in the defensive position he had been shown. With a sigh, he resolved to follow the captain’s commands. ‘I understand.’

  ‘Hold strong, Leopold.’ Orrell cracked his sword against Leopold’s defence.

  It jarred Leopold’s wrist and he struggled to return the weapon to its original position in time to block the next attack.

  ‘Ow!’ he complained, shaking his wrist to ease the pain. ‘This is harder than I thought.’

  ‘Don’t laugh,’ Orrell warned sternly.

  When the weapon was next knocked free Leopold shook his head as he picked it up, giving one brief chortle. A sharp pain bit his behind. The captain had whacked him across the buttocks with his sword.

  Leopold shrieked, standing straight and rubbing his tender cheeks.

  ‘I told you.’ Orrell was short of patience. ‘This is not a game, Leopold. You have nothing to prove here. Stop playing the fool.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ he returned, annoyed with the captain’s accusations.

  ‘You make light of your failures, Leopold. You mock to hide disappointment. Stop it. No one, least of all me, cares if you drop your sword a hundred times—as long as you pick it up again, determined to improve. I warn you. Do not shake your head, do not laugh, do nothing beyond the task at hand.’

  ‘I don’t know what you are talking about.’

  The captain lowered his weapon. ‘Before you grasp your sword, Leopold, you must know what you are to use it for. It is not a plaything and you are not a child. If you could see yourself you would be ashamed. Defend as I have shown you. If you fail, stand up straight and try again. Do not jest, do not speak. Exercise control of yourself.’

  Leopold shook his head in frustration, but determined to follow the instruction.

  The captain slowly rounded him, stepping in lightning fast and striking his weapon against Leopold’s. Each time it rattled the bones in Leopold’s hands until his forearms were tingling. One blow sent the blade bouncing to the deck and Leopold held his tongue, and picked it up without a sound, the captain scrutinising his every move.

  ‘Good,’ Orrell said, smiling, before stepping in again with a blow that made Leopold stagger. Again the blade flew free, and this time Leopold felt his fury rising.

  ‘Well done, Leopold,’ the captain said. ‘You are doing well. Anger comes next, as I can see you are beginning to learn, but that is a battle for another day. Enough for now. We will face that challenge next time.’

  He left Leopold with a practice blade and strict instructions not to handle a real weapon until being told he was ready.

  ‘Yes. Well done, Leopold,’ sounded the voice of the magician, and Leopold found Lord Samuel standing behind him.

  ‘What do you want?’ he asked sourly.

  ‘Taking in the view,’ said the magician, and he strolled around the quarter deck, studying the ship’s wake in tow.

  ‘It surprises me that the weather has been with us this entire time. We met the region named The Doldrums that Lady Wind had marked on our maps, apparently renowned for its prevailing calm, yet a gale formed behind us and we passed straight through. It seems more than luck.’

  ‘So it seems,’ was all Samuel would say.

  ‘Can you so easily control the weather?’

  ‘Every aspect of life requires balance. The currents I put at our back deprive someone else of theirs, but I consider the trade is fair. We go to save the world, after all.’ The magician took an item from his pocket and threw it into the water. A scrap of bread? Surely the man had not been eating? ‘I have not seen you recently, Leopold. You have avoided me since I had that visit from Captain Orrell.’

  ‘Oh?’ Leopold remarked.

  ‘I am not killing you or doing anything despicable. I am saving us. You seem set on working against me.’

  ‘I told you I would kill you.’

  ‘Ah, yes. So you did,’ Samuel noted, and looked to the sea once more. ‘You can’t kill me, Leopold. You know that. All you are doing is making the trip more uncomfortable for everyone, especially those you pester. I couldn’t care less what people know about me. They do. What they need is hope and unity. You are their Emperor, Leopold, not a child—as the good captain already pointed out.’

  ‘You care about Jessicah,’ Leopold said and slowly the magician faced him. ‘You care what she thinks.’

  For a moment, Leopold thought he had erred terribly, that Samuel would strike him dead. The magician’s flash of fury faded as quickly as it had come, leaving a warning to not tread up
on ground where he was not welcome.

  ‘Jessicah is all I have left. She is a goddess, remarkably clever, and resilient, too. You will make no friends here if your idiocy continues. I will give you space, Leopold, but when the time to aid me arrives, I expect your full co-operation. Get in my way, and I shall remove you. It would be unfortunate, Leopold. I would not want to break my word to your mother and father—but if necessary, I will.’

  Leopold waited, wishing the magician to leave first; he did not. Lord Samuel turned his back and patiently watched the sea. It was Leopold who was forced to stalk way, furious.

  ****

  Lessons continued and Leopold realised he would never be a great swordsman. At first he was excited by the premise of discovering affinity for swordplay hidden within his core, but he quickly proved himself wrong. Gains came slowly and he made the same mistakes repeatedly, much to the frustration of his teacher. He would never be a master, but he was pleased for learning the basics—to be able to defend himself and not look foolish or slice off his hand as he readied his weapon.

  Captain Orrell passed his training onto various men under his command so that Leopold could learn from each of their styles, their insight. That’s how the captain explained it, but Leopold suspected it was more that he was a terrible student.

  Most of his instructors were patient and considerate men, and through them Leopold learned a further lesson: he could use his position as Emperor to advantage. Unlike Samuel and Captain Orrell, they spoiled him, catering to his every need, happy to fetch him water and run errands if asked. Leopold tested his boundaries, and amazingly had few. If he commanded the men, they obeyed him, whether it was cooking between meals or raiding the liquor supplies and bringing him brandy or rum. He had been foolish—he could have been doing this from the start.

 

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