The wind was at my back, fortunately pushing me in the direction I wished to move, but unfortunately pushing the storm closer to me. The buoy had also been dragged farther from shore. It was so far out that it was right at the cusp of the anchorage and halfway out to the cluster of rocks surrounding our island.
As I dunked my hand into the sea to find the tether, small droplets of rain began to hit the back of my neck. The cage was difficult to pull up this time; it seemed like a nice-sized lobster was going to find its way into a soup.
“Errrlaaand,” I heard Bergson shout from shore. “The…the storm! It’s coming.” I wasn’t able to make out much of what he said over the sound of the wind beating against my ears. Despite what he seemed to think, I was an experienced sailor. As mighty as this was, I’d still be able to reach shore. I was also at the end of my chore, just a few more pulls and the trap would be in the boat. Thunder cackled above me when the cage flopped onto the deck. By my best guess, it was cackling because I’d gone through so much work for next to nothing. All that was in it was a mess of sea tangle. I grumbled as I wiped a stream of water off my face and tucked the cage into a corner of the boat; perhaps it would still be edible.
Without warning, the winds then picked up, and the more furious of Aegir’s nine daughters surrounded me. Immediately, I went for the oars to try to row back. I stroked as quickly as I could, my tempo could have outdone horse and dog alike on shore, but this was not enough to best the waves. It was only enough to barely stay where I was, though “where I was” was difficult to recall as the rain grew so heavy as to limit my sight to inside the boat.
Now exhausted by my futile attempts, I reached for the anchor. If I couldn’t get to shore, I’d have to stay right here and outweather the weather. I threw it off the side of the boat, but as I felt it pulling hard against the boat as it hit seafloor, I could tell I was even still moving forward by small leaps. For good measure, I threw the cage back into the water and tried to tie its rope to the mast.
The ship still bobbed in the water, which was still now. While I was waiting for this to blow over, I threw a tarp over my head and crawled up against the back bow of the ship. The ship served as a windbreak, but the rain still harassed me from my cocoon. So heavy was the torrent that it had already soaked the half-inch thick tarp through, and water drenched and chilled me. I was still content to stay under the shelter because I’d rather merely be wet than wet and in the bruising rain.
I lay curled up there for what felt like hours, and the only thing keeping me from being lulled into slumber was the fear this was sleep born of cold heart rather than weary mind. The rain calmed down and the winds no longer looked for cracks to spout through and further freeze me. Thinking the storm had passed, I uncovered myself and looked back toward shore. Raindrops were still large, but had slowed down so I could look back and see all my family there. Father was getting into our spare scow to come help me back. At long last, this squall was over. I no longer needed to fear for my life.
Thunder then shouted in my ear, and I reflexively turned my head to the sky. In the black storm clouds that remained, I saw an image as lightning surged through them. It was the face of an old, bearded man, his eyes glowing like orbs of light. This frightened and confused me, for what had I done to anger Aegir, the giant in the sea? I had no time to think about the old sea giant’s reasons, because his daughter, Bylgja, scooped me and the ship up and thrust us onto a large rock, shattering the ship and rendering me unconscious.
Chapter 2
A Wicked Realm
The waves of the storm carried me a great distance. I didn’t know at the time whether I was killed upon the rocks or not, but had I been conscious enough to even think about things like that, I’d err on the side of caution and say I was dead. The only thoughts that were in my mind were how I was thirsty and I needed to go to the bathroom. Now that I thought about it, those both were probably the consequences of drifting on the sea.
Eventually, I washed up on some piece of land, rolling out of the hull I’d been afloat on. Of course, being as under as I was, all my brain could really do was figure that the impact and the sensation of rolling on the wet sand was ‘ouch,’ and then went on thinking intently about the color black.
I don’t know how long it took or when it started, but I eventually managed to regain some awareness. I heard the vague noise of waves clawing their way onto the beach and felt sore in a few odd places (my right hand felt like a cat had been using it for a scratching post). I also managed to translate those feelings of thirst into feelings on my body, as my throat dried and swelled to the point that it felt like one piece.
“Hey, look,” I heard a voice in the distance shout. “There’s a wrecked boat over here.”
“Nyot only is there a dead boat,” came another. “I think that’s a dead man, too. Solas, sir, you might vant to check this out.”
Now, I didn’t really equate these to real voices in the real world at the moment. I was frankly bored enough that my only thought in response was “good, entertainment.”
Then came a third voice, which was more somber and refined than the other two, but it had an accent I couldn’t put my finger on. It said, “Indeed, perplexing. He vears our color of hair, yet the clothes of a Shaloor he vears too. Scour his clothing for clues and vealth, but kill him should he return to health.”
“What an annoying accent,” was my only thought, and it only made sense, as I later realized it was a high Agrian accent. One of the men came over and gave me a swift kick to check if I were dead or not. My body only flopped around a bit, but my mind was darting with the thought of, “All right, I’m sorry. Continue with the story.”
“Doesn’t seem alive, my Jarl.”
Their Jarl replied, “His boat is nyow a tombstone then, let the birds be his mortician. Let them build his burial den.”
Now that set me off; it started as a nuisance in my mind and slowly progressed through my body until all of me was wide awake. It wasn’t until now that I realized I was unconscious, as light pierced through my eyes like darts made of water. As I stirred, the wet sand clung as hard as it could to me, and while some of it succeeded, most of it fell to the ground and reunited with the rest of the beach. I was on my elbows and knees when a wave crashed right into my nose. It stung as the salt ran out as fast as it could.
“Vhat? Hey! The Shaloor is alive,” cried one of the men, no doubt noticing me because of all of the noise I was making.
As I looked through my watering eyes, I saw one of them was charging at me with fists clenched in the air. Like I said before, my father taught me how Agrians think and how to exploit those flaws. This one didn’t seem to put much thought into defense, so I grabbed his legs and threw him into the water. I couldn’t really tell where he landed through my watery eyes, but from the sound of splintering wood, he likely didn’t enjoy the fall at all.
I then looked up at the other two, wiping the tears out of my eyes. The one at the bottom of the hill wore clothing made of wool. The fabric was colored red, but it must have been done with beets or some other cheap dye, because patches of his shirt were faded and became more of a pinkish hue. The only exercise he seemed to get was maybe walking, and his arms were as thin as the branches of a dead tree. He was likely only a lackey, and clearly not a threat of his own right.
The man atop the hill was different from the first. He was perhaps only slightly stronger-looking than the one I presumed was his servant, but he amply made up for this with his stature and despotic, almost draconic posture. His face was well-pampered, but pale like he seldom or never spent time in the sun. Unlike his servant, his shirt was made from the skins of otters and dyed bluer than the sea. He also wore massive amounts of silver—silver rings and bracelets on his hands, silver beads at the rims of his cloak, even silver embedded into the chest of his cloak in the shape of a bear. The only accessory he had that wasn’t silver was a necklace of pearls with golden waves hammered around them. With w
hat appeared to be a bemused smile from atop the sand bank, he spoke. “Vhat brings you to our home, Yellow Tooth? Exile, espionage, or storm?”
Yellow Tooth, what an interesting insult. Only a well-educated Agrian could have attempted to make such a refined insult. Granted, it was still far from a calculated blow. From this, there was no doubt that this was a member of the Agrians’ nobility, or ‘Jarl’ as they called them. So, I dropped my defensive stance and took a step back. I didn’t doubt that I could fight them, but I did doubt that I could handle a hoard of Agrians hunting me for attacking one of their leaders.
“I was cast adrift by a powerful storm, everything was fine until it came. Please be merciful and help me return home. It was only by the malevolence of Aegir that I was sent here.” Those words sickened me as they came out, but what could I do? This was the wisest thing I possibly could have done.
The man listened intently to what I had to say, keeping a passive, if not aloof, look on his face most of the way through. When I mentioned Aegir, he raised an eyebrow. He paused to think about what I said, and responded, “You lie. You are a spy and I vill tell you vhy. Many Shaloor have I seen sail in storms, nyeither vind nyor vave nyor rage of Aegir could cause vone of your family to founder.” He pointed at my boat and said, “Your kind live on your ships, nyever pleased by the magnyificent feel of soil upon your soles, to call this home, it’s a far cry from reason, so it must be from a larger ship. You are a terrible teller of lies, your tongue has the subtlety of a baying dog.” He slowly walked down the hill, his voice getting ever louder as he approached me, an unearthly aura burning forth from him. “For your laughable lies, your vit’s veaker than the average angler. Vhether to let you go graze in a pasture parted from clothes or corrode in a dungeon devoid of food, friend, or sight of the dainty dawn, I knyow nyot vhich vould be more merciful.”
My face flushed red with resentment at this pig’s words and I took a step back into a pouncing position. He wafted his hand at me and made a grunting noise, signaling his servant to attack. I charged and plowed through the weakling as one does through a pillar of snow and headed toward the viper, not even being slowed down. The man stood undaunted by me even as I pounced upon him. He was prepared for my actions, though; he grabbed me by the torso and used the momentum to hurl me onto the ground. All I managed to grab hold of was his necklace and that broke off in the fall.
As I was figuring out what had happened, I felt a weight on my chest pushing harder and harder down. I looked up and saw that nobleman standing and glaring at me. He growled, “For making the decision for me, I thank you. Your fate is to be beaten for show. But truly, I hope it vill be for what you knyow. It is time to reap vhat you have long sown.”
He ground his heel down harder. I wasn’t quite sure if he really intended to torture me, though, because it felt like at least his foot had the desire to squeeze life, not words from my body. As I gasped for air, my thoughts raced to find a way out, and my arms and legs flailed around, trying to get a hold of the man asphyxiating me. I looked down at the sand for my last hope of escape, scooped up a large handful of sand, and threw it at his face. The sand was mostly wet and clumped together, but it did the job well, lodging itself into his eyes and mouth. He staggered back in shock and pain, letting off enough pressure to give me a chance to get him off. I grabbed his leg and threw it as far up into the air as I could and rolled away from him. The anger and most of the resentment I felt boiled away and turned into fear inside of me. The man in the blue shirt had proven that his servants were there for general assistance rather than protection. So, I ran as fast as I could to the forest.
The Agrian shouted to his servants to pursue me as I waded through the shrubbery and hid behind a tree. “What can I do? I’ve got to make sure I escape,” I thought to myself.
By the rustling of the bushes, I knew they were coming closer; the only thing I could think of was to confuse them to get them off my tracks. So, I grabbed a stone and threw it far away from me. “There he is, sir,” called out one of the servants.
Their Jarl spoke, “He can’t be anyvhere there. A pity though, had Yellow Tooth been the first to do that trick, he might just have actually escaped. Try looking there instead.”
I peeked over and saw the man was pointing in the direction I was in. My thoughts raced to think of what I could do. I couldn’t run or I would reveal where I was hiding; staying wasn’t an option either, they’d find me nonetheless. With no other ideas, I simply threw another rock.
“Vhat? Solas, sir, I think that he might be over there,” he exclaimed.
“Perhaps, but check both places anyvays,” the man said.
“So, that man in blue’s name is Solas, eh?” I chuckled to myself, realizing the ruse was working. “Let’s see if I can’t confuse Solas and his goons anymore.” I grabbed a few more stones and threw them in random directions.
“Hey! Vhat’s going on? First he’s over there, nyow he’s over here.”
Solas was perplexed by the stones as well. He simply stood there for a moment, rubbing a stray pearl from his necklace. Solas raised his head with a smile and said, “Leave him for now. The mouse has entered its hole in the vall. Let us find help and then go on to trawl.”
Solas then began to walk away from me, and his servants followed.
“Why was he smiling?” I asked myself as the Agrians walked away. As I stood up to try to find a shelter for the night, there came a shrill, spine-shivering screech from my fist. It sounded like I had just scratched a nail against a dust-caked pot. The only thing in my clutches at the time, the necklace I had neglected to let go of, started to glow a sea-foam green and overwhelmed my sight.
When the glare died down, I was hovering far above the earth; a forest beneath me, a mountain behind me, and the sea in front of me. From the sea came a mighty tidal wave as tall as the mountain. I was sure the wave would uproot everything in its path, but it turned into fire the moment it touched the shore and drenched all the forest in fire. As the flame scorched the earth below me and suffocated me with the smoke and heat, Aegir walked forth from the now empty seabed and sent an eel to cast me down. The eel flew through the air like a bird and succeeded in casting me down.
I awakened just before the first burning limb ran through my skull, my head aching as if it did. Very little of the necklace was left in my hand, only a white powder and the pearls’ golden shell remained. I looked about myself to see what happened. The trees, the sea, everything around me was exactly as it was before that noise. Whatever it was I just experienced, it was only a vision. But what it was meant to express, if anything at all, was hardly clear to me.
* * * *
It was a long, stressful day. Whoever this Solas man was, he didn’t give up on the search so easily. He must have had an entire town or city at his disposal, as that was the only way there could be so many Agrians prowling the dusk. Fortunately, none of them found me, but with every snap of a twig and every hoot of an owl, I jumped in terror. The sky was growing cold, my stomach hungry, and my limbs were about to stop responding to instruction.
I had to find shelter and food. I didn’t care if they were still searching for me, I needed some place to recover. I meandered for a while, avoiding the occasional patrol until I came to a clearing. The area had a large collection of bushes that were all covered with berries and a large stone; it had a large cavity in it, so I decided to use it as a shelter.
I grabbed a bunch of berries, sat down, and popped some into my mouth. It took a lot of chewing to get to the insides of them and they didn’t provide much reward for my efforts. The juices burst out into my mouth and left a bitter sting. I spat it out but the flavor was still there and my mouth had dried up. “Even the plants are intent on my destruction,” I cried out with no regard of who might have heard me.
As I sat rehydrating my mouth with spit, I looked down at the remaining berries left in my hand, debating whether to continue eating them. “They’re all I have to eat,”
I said to myself. “Might as well fill up on something.” So, I sat back and ate.
As I was gnawing on the edible rocks, I observed the surroundings. The pine trees that were all about were rather intimidating in the moonlight. They looked like they were a hoard of massive, furry monsters just waiting for me to fall asleep to wrap their thorny arms around me. The squirrels and birds moving about them really didn’t help me shake that feeling either, as it sounded like the trees were moving.
“No wonder I was taught that forests are places of evil,” I thought to myself. “Not only are they the eeriest place to be at night, the Agrians have tons of them. That must make them bad.” I popped the third berry into my mouth and almost choked on it when something flew past me. I shoved myself farther into the little shelter in surprise and looked at where it went. I heard the heavy fluttering of wings and a loud screech that kept repeating itself. As it flew over the trees, I noted it had harsher features than those I’d expect on a bird. “Only a bat,” I thought to myself, being perfectly accustomed to the rodents. I swallowed the little bite, but I felt like I shouldn’t have just a few seconds afterward.
My stomach gurgled and burned. The sensation crawled its way up my throat and rammed into my head, leaving a dull headache there. I turned my discomfort-twisted face over to the berries in my hand and threw them as far away as I could (which wasn’t too far with how I was feeling). There was no doubt about it—if the berries here were poisonous, the forest itself must have been infected with the spite of the Agrians.
For those next few hours, I tried to sleep but failed because of the pain I was going through. And in accordance with what minds do when they can’t sleep, mine wandered into depressing thoughts. I imagined how my family was handling the pain of my loss. It was rough enough to have a family member die, and it was even worse when that person dies by drowning. According to the elders, anyone who died at sea was dragged down to Aegir’s hall, forced to forever toil in preparation of Aegir’s meals, which were often great feasts, but never enjoy the fruits of their labor.
Across the Kolgan Sea Page 2