The Arcane Ward

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The Arcane Ward Page 19

by Jeffrey L. Kohanek


  When their lips met, Everson stiffened, caught off guard and unsure of how to react. The moment made him think of Rena and her reaction to his kiss. Rather than fight it, he chose to wrap his arms about Ivy and enjoy the kiss. Moments passed while their lips remained intertwined. A warmth ran through Everson, beginning at the tips of his tingling fingers and running down his body. By the time Ivy pulled away, Everson found himself breathing hard, his heart thumping like a drum. There was a fear in her eyes – a fear he recognized. He knew well the fear of rejection. While he was unsure of how he felt about Ivy, he would not reject her – not without giving her a chance.

  “Thank you,” Everson said.

  Her face darkened. “Thank you?”

  “Yes. I…I feel better now.”

  She hit him on the shoulder.

  “Ouch.”

  “You idiot. This was not to make you feel better. I’m not some tavern wench who kisses men on a lark.”

  “I…” Everson struggled for the right words. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”

  “How did you mean it?” The look on her face was a challenge.

  Everson fought through his emotions and considered his response, fearing that the wrong word would send her away.

  “I was hurting inside, and I felt sorry for myself.” He reached out and took her hand. “You are a wonderful person, Ivy. I hope that…kiss meant something to you, because it meant something to me. I have always enjoyed spending time with you, but perhaps I need to now try and spend it in another way.”

  Her expression softened as he spoke. “Such as…”

  He chuckled. “Why are girls always challenging what boys say? I feel like I am Jerrell Landish, seeking to avoid a trap that might burn me alive with one misstep.”

  “That is our prerogative. Now, please continue.”

  “It’s almost dinner time. Perhaps you would like to stop by the kitchen, grab some food, and find a quiet place to eat together? Just you and me.”

  When she smiled, he knew he had somehow navigated the pitfalls and had come out unscathed.

  “I would love to, Everson.”

  27

  In a Flash

  Quinn stood atop the quarterdeck, the fast moving wind blowing her hair back and forcing her to squint. An Empire ship sailed before them, now barely a quarter mile ahead.

  “We’re closing on them,” Tenzi said. “When we draw close, fire the warning shot and we’ll see how they respond.”

  Parker drew an arrow from his quiver and wrapped the note around the shaft before tying it in place with twine. He then slid his bow from his shoulder and descended toward the main deck.

  A glance toward the west revealed land perhaps ten miles away and no city in sight. At the current rate, they would close on the other vessel within minutes. The Empire freighter had no hope of outrunning the Razor and her crew.

  Quinn stared at the sailors on the other ship and tried to imagine the panic that might run through the crew when they saw the black flag approaching.

  “Do you plan to kill them?” she asked.

  Tenzi shook her head. “It rarely comes to that any longer. When we first began attacking Empire ships, we encountered resistance. After making a few examples, and firmly establishing the legend of the Red Viper,” she tapped on her red leather vest, “ship captains began to surrender rather quickly. Over the past four months, we have captured more than a dozen ships with little loss of life.” Tenzi looked at Delvin. “If we have to board her, what do you plan to do? Help or remain here?”

  “I would hate to miss the fun,” he said with a smirk.

  Tenzi nodded toward Quinn. “What about the girl?”

  “Her mission is more important. We shouldn’t risk it.”

  Quinn grunted. “I’m no flower. I’ll not wilt under a little heat.”

  “Oh, of that, I am aware.” He patted her shoulder. “Still, I’d rather have you remain here. No need to take an unnecessary risk when there is little to gain.”

  “What about you, then?”

  “While I should do the same, I seldom get to have fun anymore, and I’d hate to miss the opportunity.”

  “Don’t worry, girlie,” Tenzi said. “You can hold the wheel if I need to engage.”

  Despite the scowl on her face, Quinn let the subject drop and turned to look forward. They were drawing close, now two ships’ length behind their quarry and about the same distance to the side of it. Parker stood with his hips against the prow railing and lifted his bow. Drawing it back, he held it steady for a long moment before loosing the arrow. It arced over the open water, bent with the wind, and landed on the deck of the opposing ship. A moment later, Quinn saw a man scramble to it and pull it free before heading to the quarterdeck.

  “Joely! Shashi! To the foremast and mizzen mast!” Tenzi commanded. “Take down the topgallant sails!”

  A thin man with dark hair scrambled up to the quarterdeck and began scaling the mizzenmast while the rough-looking woman with short hair ran toward the foremast. In moments, each was up their respective mast and had the topgallant sails furled, causing the ship to slow slightly. By that time, Razor had drawn even with the other craft, a freighter with the word Galvanizer painted on the side.

  Three sailors emerged from the door beside galley. The two men in front carried a ballista, already loaded with a grappling hook. The third man held a long coil of rope, tied to the hook. Another trio of sailors ran into the room and reappeared seconds later with another loaded ballista.

  While the Razor’s crew placed both ballistae along the port rail, aimed at the other ship, Tenzi focused on the other ship. She then looked up and shouted, “Joely! Drop one more sail. We’re still too fast! If we don’t slow, we will slide past her.”

  The man in the rigging did as commanded, causing the ship to slow further. On Razor’s deck, armed sailors waited at the port rail as they stared at their quarry. Quinn counted the crew – eighteen strong. Some thickly muscled. Others lean and wiry. All appeared rough and battle-tested.

  Quinn shifted her focus toward the empire freighter as two men descended from the quarterdeck and ran toward the main mast, where something hid beneath a white sheet. The men fumbled with a rope for a moment, while two other men ran over to join them. The sheet rippled in the breeze as it loosened. It tore away, whipped across the deck, and flattened against the wall of the quarterdeck. The sailors then began pushing two large, black objects across the deck to the starboard railing. The objects were shaped like tubes, the open end facing the Razor.

  “Launch Ballistae!” Tenzi called out before turning toward Delvin. “What are they doing? Do you recognize those things?”

  Delvin shook his head. A sailor crossed the freighter’s deck, pushing a handcart. When he stopped, the man lifted a black ball from the cart and slid it into an open hole of one of the black tubes. Something was familiar about the object. Quinn suddenly recognized why.

  “Those look like the projectiles the academy uses for catapults,” Quinn said.

  Tenzi glanced at Quinn, her eyes widening. “Cut the ropes! Now!”

  While the sailors drew swords and began hacking at the two ropes, a man with a torch appeared on the other ship. After he extended the torch toward the rear of the black tube, the men on the Galvanizer scrambled from the black object with their hands over their ears. An explosion of green flame blasted from the open end of the black tube, accompanied by a boom. A black ball hurled out, struck a sailor in the chest, and launched the man across the deck. He and the ball blasted through the Razor’s starboard rail and disappeared. Splintered wood from the rail twirled and fell into the ocean, leaving a six-foot gap in the rail.

  “Burn me!” Tenzi swore. “Hold on tight!”

  Joely, still up on the mizzenmast, began wrapping rigging around one wrist and twisting it around an ankle. Shashi did the same on the foremast. Once the sailors were secured, Tenzi spun the wheel, her hands moving incredibly fast as she cranked it and sent the Razor t
urning from the Empire ship.

  Still near the prow, Parker raised his bow and began firing at the Galvanizer’s crew. The sailor holding the torch dropped first, with an arrow through his throat. The torch hit the deck and another man grabbed it before scurrying behind one of the black, iron weapons. Another man jerked and spun before falling to his knees with an arrow in his shoulder. The next shot struck his back and he collapsed face-first to the deck.

  “Stein!” Tenzi shouted.

  A middle-aged man ran up to the quarterdeck. Unlike the other sailors, he did not look much like a pirate. With brown hair and short-cropped beard, he wore a simple tunic and breeches.

  “Yes, Captain?”

  “Can your magic do anything to help us?”

  He glanced toward the other ship as a deep boom and a burst of green flame came from the other weapon, sending another projectile toward the Razor as it was turning away. The ball clipped the port side railing and careened toward the ocean as splintered railing parts rained across the deck.

  Tenzi then spun the wheel again and the Razor returned to its original course.

  “I can’t think of any rune that’ll work for this, ‘cept maybe making the ship a bit lighter.”

  Tenzi nodded. “Do it, then.” As the man scrambled toward the bow, Tenzi looked up and shouted. “Unfurl those sails, Joely! We need to reach full speed before they get those things reloaded.”

  Stunned by the entire ordeal, Quinn stared at the Galvanizer while men scurried about, pouring sparkling powder into each tube. Parker ran toward the stern and shot another arrow. An enemy sailor, who was loading a projectile into a tube, suddenly stiffened. With an arrow in the eye, the sailor flipped over the railing and vanished into the sea, a splash briefly marking the man’s grave.

  Parker ran up the steps to the quarterdeck, took aim, and fired again. The Razor was picking up speed, now three lengths ahead of Galvanizer. His arrow missed the mark, striking the enemy ship’s rail.

  “They are too far behind us, now,” Parker said.

  With the sails unfurled and the lines tied off, Joely dropped to the Quarterdeck while Shashi climbed down the foremast.

  “They’re pushing the weapons to the fore of the ship,” Delvin said while watching the enemy. “They intend to fire at us again.”

  “You do know that is obvious, right?” Tenzi said in irritation. Her head spun about, glancing from the enemy behind her to the sea before her. “I don’t know the range of those things, so I’m not sure how much lead we need.”

  A deep boom answered her statement when one of the weapons fired. The ball arced through the air, toward them.

  “Oh, no,” Quinn backed two steps and gripped the rail.

  While Quinn feared that it would land right on her, the projectile struck just shy of the quarterdeck. A burst of wood shards filled the air where it hit, and then the door to Tenzi’s cabin blasted off its hinges and tumbled across the deck as the ball rolled toward the bow. Unaware, Stein had his back to it as he was tracing a rune on the deck. Just before the ball struck him, the Razor heeled hard to port, and the rolling ball curved, just missing him before it shot through a gap in the rail and disappeared.

  “My ship!” Tenzi growled with her fist squeezed, knuckles white.

  At the bow, Stein stood over a rune twenty feet in diameter, the symbol glowing a bright red. The captain cranked hard on the wheel, turning the ship starboard when another boom arose from behind. Again, the ball arced through the air toward them. When it fell, it narrowly missed the port side before splashing into the sea. The glow faded from the rune and the ship suddenly rose up ten feet, picking up speed. Tenzi turned the wheel again and set the ship back on course, the Razor now moving faster than ever.

  “The Empire will pay for this,” Tenzi said with a snarl. She then turned to Parker. “Take the wheel. The Razor will be well beyond their reach by the time they reload.”

  Parker moved to the wheel, his eyes locking with Tenzi’s. “Where are you going?”

  Her scowl deepened. “I’m going to inspect my cabin…or what is left of it.”

  As the woman stormed down the ladder to the main deck, Quinn turned to Delvin.

  “What kind of weapons were those?”

  “The worst kind,” Delvin said. “This confirms something we feared. They have discovered new ways to use flash powder.” He looked Quinn in the eye. “Your mission just became far more critical. Thousands of lives may depend on the information you seek.”

  Quinn emerged from her cabin and smoothed the front of her dress. Her hair was tied in a bun behind her head. While wearing a dress seemed odd to Quinn, it was a critical aspect of her persona. As a handmaid, Glynnis always wore dresses.

  She shifted aside and turned to watch Hex and Garrard climb the stairs, grunting under the weight of the chest they carried. The polished brass panels on the wooden chest glinted in the afternoon sunlight and offered a stark contrast to the dark stained wood from which it was constructed. The two men had shed their leather jerkins in favor of simple cream-colored tunics, now appearing more like sailors than soldiers. They passed by Quinn and headed toward the planks that had been extended to the dock. Her attention was drawn away from them as Delvin approached.

  “The rune looks good,” He grinned. “Perhaps I should become an artist.”

  Quinn’s hand went to her forehead. She needed to remember the fake rune and wash it as little as possible. At least she no longer had to endure the smell of the dye he had used to create it.

  “I will go ashore with you. We’ll spend the night here, and you’ll leave on a carriage in the morning.” Delvin held a folded sheet of paper toward her. “When you arrive in Sol Polis, head to the citadel with this and ask for Abner Sheen. He manages the citadel staff and will be expecting you.”

  Quinn accepted the note and stared at it for a moment. “There will be an opening for me in the staff?”

  “Yes. One of the handmaids will be taking a leave of absence, if she hasn’t already.”

  “How did you arrange that?”

  Delvin smirked. “She’s quite pregnant by now and it will be difficult to hide it. Abner will be forced to remove her from her service, which he surely has by now.”

  Quinn shook her head. “I don’t want to know how you orchestrated this.”

  “It happened in the usual way, I can assure you.” His grin widened. “Numerous times.”

  “How could you do that to the poor woman?”

  Delvin’s grin dropped away. “I do have a conscience, and I considered the repercussions. She has been compensated with a significant dowry, and she should have little trouble finding a suitable husband who will care for her and her babe. It is the best I can do under the circumstances.”

  “And what of the child?”

  “I’m sorry, Quinn, but we are at war. While not ideal, I’m willing to make concessions so I might save the lives of thousands of other children. Let it go.”

  Quinn grit her teeth and pushed past him, toward the plank. Walking in slippered feet seemed as odd as wearing the dress. She had grown used to her boots and would miss them dearly. Reaching the dock, she joined the men with the chest and waited for Delvin to say goodbye to Tenzi and Parker. Moments later, the man was on the pier and leading her toward the city.

  Vinata was located at the mouth of a river, the docks downstream from the city itself. A river delta of sand and scrub occupied the heart of the bay. White gulls dotted the island and circled high above it.

  The city itself was a half-mile from the docks, closer to the river. Quinn wondered if the two men would be forced to carry the chest all that way. Her concerns were erased when they approached a wagon parked between two warehouses built along the shore. Delvin spoke with the driver before climbing on the seat and gesturing for Quinn to join him. The two sailors slid the chest onto the wagon bed, closed the rear gate, and pinned it in place before turning back toward the docks.

  “Take us to Pintalli’s Inn, please,”
Delvin said.

  The driver snapped the reins. “Get!”

  As the wagon climbed up the gravel road toward the city, Quinn gazed out over the countryside, covered with grapevines that climbed man-made trellises. For miles and miles, green vineyards stretched across the hills, occasionally interrupted by driveways that led to small clusters of buildings.

  “Much of the wine we drink comes from this region,” Delvin said, apparently reading her thoughts. “It would be a shame if tensions between the Empire and the kingdoms continue. Wine has already become difficult to purchase in the kingdoms, the cost rising each week. At the same time, these vineyard owners suffer because they are producing more wine than the Empire consumes, which has driven the local prices down.” Delvin gave the driver a sidelong look. “I wonder if the situation has led to smuggling goods.”

  The driver’s eyes flicked toward Delvin for a breath before returning to the road.

  As they approached the city, Quinn observed portions of the wall two shades lighter than the rest. Similar to Cinti Mor, Vinata had been destroyed and the people slaughtered during The Horde invasion. Now, nearly two decades later, the city had been rebuilt, but scars remained. The entire east coast lived with those very same scars.

  The wagon rolled through the city gate, the driver tipping his hat to the guards posted there. The soldiers were dressed in mail armor, their tabards white with blue accents and the rune of Issal, also known as the Order rune. The same rune marked their shields. With narrowed eyes and scowling faces, the soldiers watched the wagon roll past.

  At the second intersection, the wagon turned up a winding, uphill street. When the horses reached the top of the hill, the wagon turned again and proceeded down a narrow alley that led to a cobblestone courtyard. At the back of the yard was a roof held up by a dozen wooden posts. Two horses stood beneath the roof, busily eating hay. The driver drove the wagon in a tight circle and stopped with the horses again facing the alley.

 

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