‘Are you scared, Zastra?’
‘A little. You?’
Orika nodded. ‘We won’t tell though,’ she whispered, with a small giggle.
‘No,’ agreed Zastra. ‘It’ll be our secret.’
Orika smiled shyly and lay down on her bunk. Zastra sat with her until the girl was sleeping peacefully. Then she returned to her cabin to try and snatch some sleep herself.
Zastra was awake and on deck as dawn arrived. The triangular outline of the Pyramid Isle broke upwards out of the sea, black against the yawning orange crescent that heralded the sunrise. Mata ordered an increase in sail and laid the ship on a direct heading towards the island. As the sun rose into a cloudless sky all eyes were fixed upon the horizon.
‘Nothing,’ remarked Jerenik. ‘It must be gone.’
‘Don’t be so sure,’ said Dobery.
A black smudge rose from the tip of the pyramid, shivered and headed towards them. There was no doubting what it was.
Chapter Forty-three
‘Make ready,’ ordered Zastra. The crew set up the catapults, polished their swords and loaded their crossbows. Even though such weapons were next to useless, Zastra thought it only right to be as prepared as possible. A large net covered the quarterdeck, the ropes triple-spliced to increase their strength. The plan was to try and trap the migaradon once Zastra had dealt with the rider. As she ran the rough cords through her hands, checking for any weak points, Zastra began to wonder if the net was big enough. Well, it was too late to do anything about it now.
‘Where’s Orika?’ There was no sign of the girl. Zastra dashed below and found her cowering in her bunk.
‘You must come, Orika,’ she pleaded. ‘This is what we’ve been working for. I can’t do it without your help.’ Trembling, Orika allowed herself to be led up onto the deck. Dobery reached out and took Orika’s hand.
‘You stay with me, my dear.’
Orika clung on to his arm so tightly that the old man winced. He nodded towards Zastra.
‘We’ll be all right. Be careful, my dear. And good luck.’
Zastra gave Orika’s hand a last squeeze. It felt surprisingly hot.
‘Wait until the last moment. Surprise is our one advantage. I know you can do it.’
Orika gave a small whimper and buried her head in the front of Dobery’s cloak. Zastra placed the wooden hatch cover down on the deck between the fore and mainmasts and squatted upon it. She bent her head and waited, trying to appear calm. Her crossbow was primed and she cradled it in her arms. Everything now depended on Orika. The migaradon was less than half a league away, its flight so ungainly that it looked like a giant rag flapping in the wind. Zastra waited until the shadow of its wings darkened the bow of the ship. A harsh, confident shriek broke the silence. She opened her mind to Orika and gave the command to go.
Nothing happened.
Come on, Orika, willed Zastra. We have to do this.
The raft wobbled and then jerked into the air, launching her up between the masts. She struggled to keep her balance, arms flailing as she tried to steady herself. Before she knew it, she was high above the ship. The wind whipped at her shirt and half-trousers, trying to dislodge her. As Zastra steadied herself, the hatch cover began to slow.
Higher, she urged. The wooden raft responded. As Zastra rose up in front of the migaradon, the rider’s chin dropped in astonishment.
‘Surprise,’ said Zastra, grimly. Her bow was already at her shoulder. She fired. The body of the rider slipped sideways and fell towards the ocean below. In response to Zastra’s unspoken command, the hatch cover skirted around the head of the migaradon and nudged up against its side. Zastra sprang off the wooden square and into the saddle. She had barely enough time to grasp the chains that served for reins before the beast let out a cry of utter desolation. It wrenched its head around in a frenzy of anger. With one snap of its mouth, the hatch cover was smashed into pieces. It gnashed at Zastra’s leg, tearing at its own scales in its eagerness to destroy her. No matter how hard Zastra tugged the chains, the migaradon refused to obey. They sunk lower, circling round and round as the beast strived to attack Zastra. Its huge tail slammed into foremast of the Wind of Golmeira, snapping it clean in half. Shrieking in fury, the migaradon beat its wings and began to climb again, higher and higher. All of a sudden it tipped forwards, flinging Zastra out of the saddle and over its head. Still clinging to the chains, she found herself dangling directly beneath the open mouth of the migaradon. The wide jaws snapped at her, but they were both falling, gathering speed at the same rate and it could not catch up with her. Zastra glanced down. The sea, peppered with sharp rocks, rushed towards them. She was helpless. The migaradon couldn’t get her, but she would be crushed between it and the sea or else dashed upon the rocks. The Wind of Golmeira was too far away to offer assistance.
Zastra, here. Look. Take!
She felt a sharp prod in her ribcage and looked down to see a wooden pole digging into her side. She reached out and grabbed it, letting go of the chains at the same moment. The wooden pole wrenched her upward with such violence that her right hand slipped off and her left shoulder exploded in pain. Somehow, she retained her grip. The migaradon plummeted past her and crashed into the sea, showering her in a huge plume of spray. The wooden pole slipped out of Zastra’s sweaty, one-handed grasp. Time seemed to slow as she plunged towards the green-grey sea. She felt a heavy slap against her side and her shoulder burst in agony. Cold water closed around her. She rose once, gasping for breath, but as she tried to swim, pain and water closed over her and she was plunged into blackness.
Chapter Forty-four
Zastra awoke in her cabin. Yashni was prodding her whilst Kylen and Ithgol looked on anxiously. For some reason the Kyrg and the Sendoran were both dripping wet.
‘Dislocated shoulder,’ said Yashni. ‘I’m sorry, but this will hurt a bit.’
‘Ow!’ Zastra yelled as Yashni wrenched her arm, sending waves of pain shooting out from her left shoulder.
‘That’s better. It’s back where it should be. You’ve also cracked a couple of ribs, but at least you’re alive. Thank the stars.’
Kylen was trying, unsuccessfully, to restrain a laugh.
‘That went well,’ she remarked. ‘You didn’t tell us that the plan was to try and get it to eat you. Luckily, it was distracted enough to crash into the only rocks in the entire area.’
‘Well, I didn’t like to reveal too much ahead of time.’ Zastra returned her grin.
‘I particularly liked the bit where you fooled it by making it look as if you fell off. The crew were mightily impressed.’
‘I did fall off,’ Zastra admitted.
‘Don’t worry. I’m sure some Golmeiran orator will describe how the noble Zastra defeated the dread migaradon by pulling it from the sky with a single hand.’
‘Only there will be two migaradons,’ Ithgol grunted. ‘Both breathing fire.’
‘The Kyrg may well be right.’ Kylen clapped her hands and Zastra felt that a change of subject was called for.
‘Why are you two dripping all over my cabin floor?’
Kylen jerked a thumb towards Ithgol. ‘This big lump jumped into the sea to try and save you.’
Zastra stared at the sheepish Kyrg.
‘I thought you couldn’t swim?’
‘He can’t.’ Kylen chuckled. ‘He sank like a rock. Hylaz had to jump in and save him. However, I can swim perfectly well and I got to you just before you drowned. You could say thanks, rather than complain about a little puddle on your precious floor.’
‘I’m very grateful. To both of you.’
‘You’re welcome.’
Ithgol added a barely audible grunt, still looking a mite uncomfortable.
‘Where is the migaradon? Did it sink?’
Kylen shook her head.
‘No, they’ve dragged it alongside the hull.’
Zastra heaved herself up. ‘Good. If we can work out why its hide is so strong, we may be able to ma
ke a weapon able to kill it.’
‘Rather than rely on blind luck, you mean?’ asked Kylen.
‘Luck?’ Zastra pretended to be offended. ‘There’s a lot of skill involved in falling from the sky and staying alive.’
‘Skill indeed,’ came the familiar voice of Dobery, ‘most of which belongs to Orika, I believe.’ The old mindweaver led Orika into the cabin. Zastra stepped forward, wincing as her shoulder and ribs complained. She gave Orika a one-armed hug. ‘Thank you, Orika. It was quick thinking, sending me that pole. You saved my life.’
Orika grabbed her and squeezed so hard that Zastra had to clamp her teeth together to stop herself crying out.
‘You still fell,’ Orika sobbed. ‘I was so scared you’d be drowned.’
‘Fell? You mean when I pulled the migaradon from the sky single-handed?’
She paid no heed to the strangled noises coming from Ithgol and Kylen.
‘I thought I told you to be careful,’ admonished Dobery, but he too was unable to keep a smile from his face. ‘I don’t know if you have proved much to Nerika and the others, except that you seem to be blessed with copious quantities of good fortune. Still, luck is a valuable attribute in a leader.’
‘How is the ship? Is the mast badly damaged?’
‘It’s ruined. Luckily there’s a spare in the hold. Mata says it will take a few hours to winch into place. Do you want to come and see the creature?’
Zastra followed the others onto the deck. The migaradon lay alongside, half submerged in the water. It was too heavy to be winched on board. Its body had smashed open against the rocks and its innards lay open to view. The sight was not a pleasant one and the smell was even worse.
‘It really is fascinating,’ said Dobery. ‘See how it has three hearts, lined up along a giant artery. I suspect you have to puncture all three hearts to kill it. Unless of course you can crash it at high speed like you did. The bones are surprisingly light and snap easily.’
‘And the hide?’
‘Scales.’ Dobery leaned over the dead body and tapped at a dark brown circle, slightly larger than his hand. The scales overlapped and covered the entire body. ‘They are too strong for an ordinary bolt or sword to penetrate.’
He tugged at the tip of one of the scales, wrenching it away from the body.
‘Aha!’ he cried in delight. ‘They are attached by normal flesh and sinew. Does anyone have a knife?’
Jerenik stepped forward, a large knife in his hand. Dobery hacked at the sinew until the scale was released.
‘I’m sure Vingrod could use this to discover how to fashion a blade strong enough to penetrate.’
‘Who’s Vingrod?’
‘One of Justyn’s followers. A scientist, and a good one too.’
‘Well, let’s cut off as many scales as we can while the mast is being fixed,’ suggested Zastra. She retreated from the unpleasant stench. ‘Then we must get back to Uden’s Teeth and tell Justyn to prepare his ships. We haven’t time to waste. We need to set the watches and…’
She staggered, suddenly feeling dizzy. Mata caught her just before she fell.
‘Leave it to me,’ she said. ‘You need to rest.’
Once the new mast had been jockeyed into place they headed back to Uden’s Teeth under a full press of sail. As evening drew in, Mata arranged for a feast so that the whole crew could celebrate their victory. Jerenik took the opportunity to recount the moment that the beast had crashed into the rocks. He windmilled his arms and collapsed dramatically to the deck in an impression of Zastra’s fall through the air. His performance drew gusts of laughter from the crew.
‘I save their lives and all they can do is make fun of me,’ muttered Zastra.
‘Stop complaining,’ said Kylen. ‘Just be glad you’re alive.’
Spirits were high and the near drowning incident appeared to have lessened Kylen’s animosity towards Ithgol. She even brought him a second helping of fish steak.
‘Let’s just hope you can fight better than you can swim.’
He accepted her offer of food with a grunt.
‘You don’t say much, do you? A “thank you” would be polite.’
‘That was one of his grateful grunts,’ Zastra remarked. Kylen turned to her.
‘Why didn’t you guide the migaradon into the net, like we’d arranged?’
‘It wouldn’t respond to anything I did. Believe me, I tried. It must only respond to its rider. You’re welcome to have a go when we get to Murthen Island, if you think you can do any better.’
Chapter Forty-five
A wall of disbelieving faces greeted them as they docked at Port Krysfera. The astonishment on Nerika’s face made Zastra feel her ordeal had been worth it. Justyn hailed them warmly.
‘I’m glad to see you back. Did you… Did it work?’
‘Just like we planned.’ Zastra managed to keep a straight face, but only just.
‘Are you injured?’
Yashni had set Zastra’s arm in a sling to help her shoulder heal.
‘I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. We must start for Murthen Island at once if we are to get there ahead of Thorlberd’s reinforcements.’
‘But you’ve only just returned. Surely you should rest.’
‘I told you, I’m fine,’ insisted Zastra, determined to show no sign of weakness.
‘You promised to help us if we killed a migaradon,’ Kylen reminded him. ‘Will you stand by your word?’
Justyn rubbed his chin.
‘I guess I wasn’t expecting you to succeed. Very well. Let preparations be made at once.’
‘I don’t believe this,’ Nerika protested. ‘I can’t believe you’re agreeing to risk our people for a few Sendorans.’
‘It’s about more than Sendorans. Think about it, Nerika. If the next generation of Thorlberd’s mindweavers are being trained at Murthen Island, we cannot wait for him to create a force of such power. It would make him truly invincible. If we free them, we may be able to persuade them to join us. We have only three mindweavers at present. We would need many more to have any chance of defeating Thorlberd.’
‘And we need to save Zax,’ added Kylen.
‘Defeat Thorlberd?’ Zastra gave Justyn a long look. ‘What happened to just trying to survive?’
‘We made our choice when we attacked the transport convoy. When I saw what they had done to the Sendorans and to poor Orika, I knew we’d done the right thing. We can be spectators no longer.’
‘Then we are agreed?’ Zastra looked around the group. One by one, they all nodded, even Nerika.
‘We have another problem besides the migaradon,’ said Dobery. ‘As Justyn says, there’s only myself, Pol and Drazan against twenty mindweavers on Murthen Island. We cannot block all of them. How many of your crews can resist mindweaving?’
‘Not many,’ admitted Zastra. ‘Most of my crew were disabled when we attacked the transports.’
Justyn shook his head. ‘Same for the Darkhorse, and you know I have little power to fight them myself. I shall need you or Pol by my side, Dobery, when the time comes.’
‘Sendorans have strong minds,’ said Kylen. ‘We can resist the mindfoggers. But we are not sailors.’
‘Then I suggest you learn,’ Zastra remarked. ‘We can split the Sendorans across each ship, ready to take over if the mindweavers interfere with our crews.’
‘It might work,’ said Justyn. ‘If the Sendorans agree to take orders from our captains.’
Kylen frowned. ‘Taking orders from a Golmeiran will not come easy to my people.’
‘There is no other way,’ argued Zastra. ‘You must persuade them, Kylen. No one is asking them to swear loyalty to Golmeira, but we must be together in this, or we will fail.’
Kylen inclined her head. ‘Agreed.’
Thanks to the organisational skills of Justyn and Pitwyn, all four ships were ready to leave only two days after the Wind of Golmeira returned from the Pyramid Isle. Zastra was on the jetty with Justyn, supervising th
e loading of the last batch of supplies, when a short woman with grey hair rushed towards them. Looking ready to drop with exhaustion, she placed a bulky package in Lord Justyn’s arms.
‘Vingrod!’ Justyn exclaimed. ‘Please tell me you’ve got something?’
‘We’ve been working non-stop since Lady Zastra returned. As we suspected, none of our normal weapons will work. We tried to mould the scales themselves into weapons, but they are so hard that they wrecked the grindstone. By a lucky accident we discovered that the scales melt in a firedust furnace. It’s the intense heat, you see, it’s—’
‘Get to the point,’ Justyn interjected. ‘We leave any moment.’
‘Apologies, my Lord. We used the melted scales to make spear tips and arrowheads. In tests, we found that arrowheads can penetrate the scales as long as the crossbow is fired at close range. We hadn’t time to test the spears, so I can’t say if they will work. This bundle contains everything we could make in the time.’
Justyn weighed the bundle thoughtfully.
‘Gives us half a chance. Good work.’
‘Remember that the beast has three hearts,’ Vingrod warned. ‘One shot will not be enough to kill a migaradon. You will need a good aim.’
They crossed the southern expanses of the Golmeiran Sea, giving the Sand Islands of the Skurgs a wide berth. Zastra left most of the sailing to Mata. Her shoulder was still sore and she had to give it a chance to heal if she was to be fit for the assault on Murthen Island. At every opportunity, the Sendorans were taught the basics of sailing, but progress was slow. Jerenik, promoted to Watchmaster, was among those giving instructions. When he pointed out the difference between two almost identical ropes to a confused Sendoran, cursing her for her incompetence, Zastra couldn’t help a private chuckle. She remembered when they had both been novices, every bit as confused as the Sendorans were now. Yet Jerenik displayed little sympathy for his new charges as he chivvied them along. Kylen kept her side of the bargain, stamping down on any disobedience from the Sendorans and insisting they did as their Golmeiran officers told them.
Murthen Island: Book Two: Tales of Golmeira Page 22