by Hart, Blaine
“What?”
“Wizards,” the man went on, “witches, mages, even holy paladins seem to disappear. Whether these are physical or spiritual abductions I cannot say. But I do know that when Visalth appears there are none who can stand before him – they all disappear or get destroyed. And now Wendfala is captured, and from her prison she sends me to you ahead of the storm to get your aid.”
Kell gulped his tea. The mystical scene vanished but Byrinius still held the glowing ember. My master stood and paced the room. He ran his fingers through his hair again and again. Then he finally stood before the window and gazed out to sea. He stood a long time. He then seemed decisive and strode to a locked wardrobe. He held his fingers over the handle and mumbled a quick verse. The doors popped open and from the inside he drew out a long and stout war-hammer that was glowing brightly.
The weapon was easily as long as my arm. Its handle was wrapped with red leather that showed stains of wear and sweat. The oaken shaft was carved in a hexagon. Cold blue steel ran from the crown down that shaft and was bolted with iron. The broad, flat head could easily have crushed an Ogres Skull, and the opposite side of the hammer was a nasty six sided piece of magical steel ending in a sharp point. The pommel was thick and ended with an 8 inch long double-bladed knife made of Admantium with a magically sharpened blade. Kell tossed his trusty weapon onto the table and the weight of it shook the table and dented it in several places.
“This is my little friend Ashrune,” my master said. “How might we help?”
“You need to Flea this place.” Byrinius said in a grave and urgent tone.
“Never! I will not run when my Queen’s lands are in danger. I am no coward.” Kell bellowed, outrage in his voice.
“Bravery in the face of such a monster is suicide,” Byrinius said calmly. “The power behind Visalth is cunning, and so you must be just as crafty. Ashrune may be a noble weapon but even with the might of a Titan behind, it would barely scratch the creature’s skull before you were impaled. You need something far mightier, and to find such a thing you need help that is beyond simple magic. You need an Angel.”
Chapter 2 The Annas
Kell and Byrinius spoke into the evening, talking of things and places that baffled me. During that time the crows whirled in the sky above, seeming anxious. The next day Byrinius returned to his bird form while dozens of folk gathered on the hill and along the wood line, silent and staring. They watched in awe as the spectacle of birds wheeled away into the morning sunrise, leaving a chilling silence in their wake.
“What does it all mean?” someone called from the crowd.
“For you,” Kell said with a shrug, “nothing.” But I distinctly heard him mutter “for now” under his breath.
But the people didn’t like that answer.
“For me,” he continued. “It means I need a boat. Wendfala is in danger. The witch needs my help, and I cannot say no. So, I need a boat. Will anyone help me?”
Two men and a woman stepped forward. One man and the woman began asking questions like “for how long?” and “how far will you need to sail?” and “how many will travel?” and “are you a good hand with a sloop?” Kell could answer none of their questions for sure other than to say that he was a fair hand at sea. That was when a third man stood forward.
“I can help you Kell,” he said with a strange sort of smile.
We didn’t know him, but I had seen him. He was from our atoll on an island west of Greed. He traded for our good cordage and was ashore for just that when he saw and so followed the birds.
“I have the perfect boat for you,” he went on. “It’s an old wreck that washed up in a tide pool by my house. I have been using it all these years as a teaching tool for my sister’s children. They’ve been refurbishing it stem to stern, and a right good work they’ve made of it. It’s a lusty little yawl and they have her in fair trim. The two have come of age and are eager to seek their fortunes in the world. They would be most eager to crew for you. Take them and the boat with my blessings.”
The man spat on his hand and held it out. I could see that Kell was wary. But I also knew that the price was right and his needs pressed. Still, he hesitated.
“If the yawl is as fair as you say,” he said. “Why wouldn’t you try and sell it?”
“Naw,” the man said shaking his head. “It’s the children’s by right, and like I say they mean to see the world. The problem is that they don’t know where to start. You give ‘em a mission and they’ll do you well. And when you are done helping Wendfala you’ll have given ‘em a good launch into life. It’s like they say in Merica, ‘a win-win’.”
Kell chuckled and shook his head. Then he spat on his hand and shook the sailor’s hand. The man’s smile was beaming. Kell was eager to set sail and so it was agreed that the boat would be ready and at Nillan’s wharf by the noon tide in two days.
“What’s the boat’s name,” Kell asked. “And how will I know her?”
“Oh you’ll know her alright,” the man smiled. “She’s baby-blue above the waterline and she has lightish pink sails -- with yellow rigging.”
My master and I looked at the man.
“It was the kid’s doing,” he said. “Clever little buggers I will say. Oh, and they named her Chaos. Fair winds, my friends.”
The sailor nearly skipped away.
“Well,” Kell said. “A deal’s a deal.”
“And the price is right,” I added.
“My grandfather always warned me about things that come free. He said they always ended up costing too much.”
“The wind is free,” I suggested.
“That’s true,” he nodded. “Anyhow, we’ve got two days to make ready. I don’t know how long we’ll be gone, but I don’t want to just abandon the place. You know anybody looking for a nice house to stay in?”
“M-Master Kell,” I stammered. “I – I could keep the place until – until your return.”
He looked at me as if I had gone crazy.
“You dolt,” he said. “You’re coming with me. You think that Wendfala’s rook Byrinius let you listen for your amusement? Close your mouth lad. You have a part to play in this, and while I cannot say if that part will be for good or not, your way lies with mine. Unless you absolutely refuse in which case—“
“No!” I cried. “I – I will happily – I mean yes! Yes I will go with you! And yes! I know that Rebecca hates her house. Her mother keeps making babies and she longs for her own place and she’d be a good tenant and . . . “
I babbled on as my heart swelled. There was suddenly before me adventure. Master Kell nearly insisted that I be by his side as he went to slay the Bone-Dragon. What lad of my years could say no to such a calling? Especially after all the stories he had told me on those cold winter nights.
“Looking back on this situation now… little did I know what I was getting into… But back then I was young and ready for some excitement. So, of course I couldn’t know the pure hell my master was going to put me through in the coming years. And so, not knowing the full extent of what I was committing to, I happily did what needed to be done to prepare for the journey ahead.
Then I spent the night packing my things. The next day Kell and I visited the chart maker. Kell found the ones he wanted. He offered the man a piece of a broken stem of a golden goblet. The man and I gaped. The fragment was easily worth five times the paper.
“Value is a funny thing,” my master said to me on the street. “The gold is precious to the man. His maps will be precious to us soon. Now take this and get us at least five days provisions. I am going to see Rebecca.”
He dropped a shard of the gold goblet in my hand. Giddy with wealth I broke the thing into smaller pieces and was myself a master of bartering. I arranged for nine days provisions to be on hand at Nillan’s wharf the next day, and still had a thumb slice of gold in my pocket. Kell was pleased.
So was Rebecca. She danced about our cottage as one suddenly set free. That night we broke
into the ale and we gave each other a farewell we will both remember until the end of our days.
The next morning Rebecca set us a hearty breakfast and the noon tide found us on the pier watching the gaudiest looking little ship I’ve ever seen cruise into the calm harbor waters. She was, as the man had said, baby-blue with pink sails and golden yellow rigging. She was coming in slow and steady by a trimmed jib-sail. Many heads turned and I distinctly heard a few snickers.
She was manned by two small sailors. One stood at the helm and the other held the aft mooring line. As the smack neared we had a closer look at the sailor’s children. They were girls, and if they were of age as the man had said, they must have been stunted. They stood barely four feet tall, and I thought that all their energy of growth must have gone into their hair. Each wore a braided-tail that ran easily down to their knees, and it was the fiery red of a sunset after a storm. Their skin was a deep coppery tan as if they had lived under the sun their whole lives, and I thought them to have been from the Southern Reaches.
As they came into view I got a good look at the one aft. She was lean but limber. She had true Southern eyes; wide, round and green, and looking like they were in a state of constant wonder. She had such delicate features, and with a slightly upturned nose she was so elf-like that I expected pointy ears. Her stance was solid and strong and she deftly swung me the line. I tied them off at the cleat and the slender craft came to a gentle halt, just as pretty as you please.
The little scamp stood a moment eyeing me. She wore raggedy britches cut off at the knees, and a bulky ywool tunic girdled at her skinny waist. She was most assuredly a she, but if she had anything of a womanly figure it was well hidden. She seemed to be sizing me up. Then with a nod forward we both ran to tie up the prow. She danced about the boat as limber as a fairy. She reached her hand to me and I helped swing her onto the wharf. Her hand was like a child’s and she whirled smoothly and landed silently. Then, totally ignoring me, she dashed up to Kell. Her sister was already there. They were twins.
“Hello,” the one from the helm said so brightly. “I’m Anna.”
“And I’m the other Anna,” her sister said.
“You must be Kell.”
“Uncle told us everything.”
“You’re going on a quest –”
“—to save a witch –“
“—that’s what he said –“
“—is it true?”
“Are we going on an adventure?”
“Where are we going?”
“Wherever it is—“
“—you’ll find the Chaos a sturdy craft.”
“We can take you to the Sands of Time—“
“—and back again.”
“All we need is a good chart—“
“—and a star to steer us by.”
“We are your servants, Lord Kell. Anna.”
“And I’m the other Anna.”
Kell burst out laughing. To hear them speak was to hear the same voice, light and lilting like water pouring, and they would have charmed me had I not been so amazed. But then I thought it was a trick, something that they had rehearsed.
“Tell me,” Kell said still laughing, “please tell me that you aren’t Impa.”
As one they frowned.
“We get that—“ Anna said.
“—all the time,” the other Anna finished.
Then to our shock and amusement they both undid their belts and lifted their tunics to show their belly-buttons.
“Okay?”
“See?”
“Born.”
“Not hatched.”
“I see,” Kell said grinning. “Okay then. Fix yourselves please. So now may I ask how old you are? You seem—“
“I’m thirteen,” Anna said with a snap. “And I’m the eldest.”
“By two minutes,” her twin said.
“Yeah so?”
“So.”
“So you could be wrong.”
“So maybe I’m not.”
“Momma said—“
“She coulda been wrong.”
“Well she wasn’t.”
“How do you know?”
“I was there.”
“Well that’s just stupid.”
“You’re stupid.”
And as they went on like that I began to understand the name of the boat.
But Kell quickly put a stop to their bickering when he asked them to show us around their fine craft. The two suddenly seemed to glow. We were given a tour of virtually every inch of the boat complete with the history of each decision that went into the making.
But my Master and I were more interested in the workings and the accommodations. The Chaos was a tidy craft. Her mainmast was at a slight rake and the mainsail boasted a gaff-sail above. There was a straight up spanker mast dead aft that the Annas declared most excellent for nulling tricky winds. A long jib held the fluttering pink canvas. Below was sparse. There were two bunks and space for bedrolls, a small cook-stove, a handy little tool-bench and plenty of spare cordage and tackle. Kell nodded. The other Anna and I stowed our gear and provisions, while Anna and Kell poured over the charts.
“Can ya sail?” the other Anna asked me.
“I’ve manned lines,” I said. “And I can island hop in a dinghy. But I’ve never been out on blue water.”
“You’re honest,” she said nodding. “That’ll do. Okay, this is the mainsail haul . . .”
And so I was given a primer on the ways of Chaos and then we sailed as soon as the tide turned.
When I was younger I dreamed of the romance of the sea. Like all young boys I saw myself cutting a dashing figure on the prow of a brig or merchantman. But I will tell you that the sea is a hard, lonely, and boring place. We lost sight of the Barnacle Atoll before sunset, and as night grew I saw nothing. There was no moon that night and the frosty stars were reflected by the calm waters. Sea and sky seemed to merge. After I got over the initial beauty of the sea, the monotony began to creep in. We had fish for that night’s supper, and then Kell sat in the prow and fell into a meditation while the Annas saw to the ship and argued. I was left with nothing to do but listen to their childish blather. I was however impressed with my masters serenity. He didn’t seem bothered by the twins childish rants and he almost seemed to glow while he sat motionless with eyes closed.
So the days went. The deeper we sailed into the ocean the rougher the waters were. Sometimes the ship needed quick and lively tending and that was a welcome relief. But mostly the sea was steady and rolling with fair winds. My Master would spend his time either fishing or in meditation. I tried to engage him in conversation. I wanted to know more about our quest. But he was aloof, saying only, “We shall see what we shall see.” Over and over again whenever I asked.
I tried to talk with our crew, but those conversations quickly led to quarrels between them and I was always caught in the middle, ending up the loser and shunned, and Kell would sometimes smirk, even in his meditation. I took to whittling, did my chores and anything the girls asked to help keep the peace.
We saw no other boats and no islands, and after our first five days I wondered if we might be lost. But three times a day Anna would look into her sextant, nod happily and mark the chart.
On our seventh day the cool winds became lively. They twisted and ran this way and that and the Annas and I were hard pressed to keep our course. Anna barked one order to me and the other Anna would yell another. I did my best to obey but the more the Chaos reeled and careened the more the twins blamed my incompetence. With the winds came a low, thick overcast sky and that day Anna couldn’t see the sun to take a fix. The air became chilly. That’s when Kell stirred from his reverie.
“I would never think to tell you how to captain your ship,” he said. “But my humble experience tells me that your work is futile. Strike your mainsail and trim your jib. The water is steady and the wind can’t toss us if there’s no canvas.”
The Annas looked at one another, then at Kell and
then at me.
“Well what are you waiting for?” Anna said.
“Get on the main-haul,” the other cried.
The other Anna and I set to the task. Kell went below. But even as the other Anna and I were working the jib the winds calmed. By the time we were finished there was not a stir in the air. That was when the fog began. I hadn’t noticed it creeping in until it was growing over us. It merged with the sky and slowly enshrouded the ship. The sea was still.
“What’s happening?” I asked.
“Dunno,” the other Anna said.
“This is creepy,” Anna said.
“It’s weird.”
“Unnatural.”
“Not really,” Kell said.
The three of us looked to the man. He had transformed. The simple herbalist was clad in leather armor. The breastplate was the color of oxblood and laced to the back with rawhide. Beneath he wore woven grey chainmail, gauntlets wrapping his arms. His britches hugged his muscled thighs and he wore boots that ran up above his calves, gathering in folds around his knees. Long daggers were sheathed in his boots and short swords crossed his back. And he held his beloved hammer Ashrune in his left hand.
“There is nothing unnatural about magic,” he said.
For once the Annas stood speechless. I looked on my Master, and I saw the proud paladin grin a slight grin. He reached a hand into the water and splashed us. We all jumped away from the water.
“Warm water,” he said, “and cool air make fog. Or had none of you listened to your elders?”
Anna chuckled. So did the other. So did I.
“The problem is,” Kell said. “It’s spring. We are in the middle of the Sassty Sea. The air here should be cold.”
He waited. We just looked at him like school children
“The air here should not be warm.” he said. “Still with me?”