by Brad Clark
Marik spent a few minutes explaining that Queen Elissa had disbanded the knights. He tried his best to explain how it was actually a good thing. But even as he said the words, he did not truly believe them.
“A woman at the helm is a cursed ship.”
“The queen is a great ruler,” Marik snapped back.
Captain Gorge smiled between puffs. “Of course she is. So what were you doing in Taran, so far from your home?”
“Is it any of your business?”
“Yes, I think so,” Captain Gorge said. “You are a guest on my ship, but I take all the risk of who you are. Say you were the one who killed the emperor, then it would be me that has the risk of having the navy attack my ship. Or when I return to Tara City in the spring, it would be my hide that would be flayed. I believe you when you say that you did not kill the emperor. I can see it in your eyes. But you are not an innocent traveler, are you? Tell me why you were in Taran.”
Marik glanced away, unable to look the captain in the eye. The sight of Conner being slain came back into his mind with the force of a hammer and it sent his emotions falling off the edge. Conner had been the little brother that he never had, and he had loved him as such. To have seen him killed was one thing. He had seen many good friends die in battle. But to be thrown into an arena where his death was to be celebrated was simply too much. His anger continued to grow towards the Tarans, and it crashed down on himself.
He should have done more to help Conner. Regardless of his own life, he should have protected Conner. That’s what a Karmon Knight would have done. He would not have stood there in stunned silence. He would have acted out of instinct and would have tried to save his life. He knew he would have failed as there were too many centurions around. But at least he would have tried and his name would have held honor beyond his death.
“I came for another. A friend,” Marik finally said, his eyes still unfocused on the back wall of the small cabin.
“You did not find him?” the captain asked.
“I did,” Marik said softly. The anger had seeped away and sadness had taken its place. His voice was on the verge of cracking and tears were about to fall.
“It did not go well. For your friend, I mean. I have been sailing the seas for thirty some years, since I was a young boy. I have seen death too many times. And I see death on your face. I am sorry that your friend is dead.”
Marik closed his eyes, squeezing them so the tears would not come out.
“You run from those that killed your friend? Is that why you are trying to get out of the city so quickly?”
Marik took a deep breath to gather himself. “No. They do not know of me. I witnessed his death from the seats in the arena.”
“Oh!” Captain Gorge exclaimed. “Your friend was a criminal, serving out his punishment?”
Marik’s anger turned towards Captain Gorge. “No! He was just a boy, a traveler from Karmon.”
“I am sorry,” the captain said genuinely. “The Taran judicial system is not friendly to foreigners, especially when the prince is looking for gladiators for his arena.”
A loud shout from directly above them caught the captain’s attention. He stood up and said, “Garapa. It is our word for a ship that is trailing us. It seems that maybe not all the Taran Navy has gone south for the winter.”
Marik followed the captain out of the cabin and back onto the deck. The aft section of the ship was raised higher above the rest of the ship and the captain skipped the stairs and sprung acrobatically up onto that deck. Marik was not quite so limber, so he used the steps to climb up. The pilot was at his station, two hands on the long tiller that controlled the rudder. The pilot’s eyes were straight ahead, sighted on a fixed point in the distance that only he could see.
The captain stood at the back railing with another sailor, who was pointing in the distance. They spoke in their native language for some time.
Finally, the captain turned to Marik. “You are sure that they are not chasing after you.”
“Yes,” Marik said. “Nobody knows about me. I came into the city just as I found out that Conner was to fight. I went straight to the arena to watch him. I talked to no one and did nothing.”
Captain Gorge stroked the rough stubble of his chin, his eyes studying Marik’s face. “Our quick exit may have spooked them, then.” He mumbled some words under his breath. “But if I would have stopped, they might not have let me leave for days, and then the seas might have gotten too rough for this old ship. And I could not afford to stay the winter in Tara City. I owe my crew their wages, and this cargo was to pay for it. I would likely have woken up with a second mouth in my neck.”
“Can we outrun them?” Marik asked. He looked closely into the darkness, but he did not see anything.
“Maybe. Their naval ships are sleek and fast and they have teams of rowers to help them along. But like I said before, they all went to the south, so this must be another ship. Maybe they commandeered another merchant vessel.”
“There were no others on the pier.”
“There is a small protected inlet on the far west side of the city just on the other side of the walls. Privateers who wish to stay in Tara City for the winter moor their ships there. But there was not enough time for them to get one of those ships under sail. They would have already been moving when the centurions came onto the pier. It is clear that they were going to block any ships from leaving, but we were able to get out just in time.” He slapped Marik on the back and smiled. “Even if we would have fought off the centurions, they would have blocked us from leaving. So indeed your coming was fortuitous.”
“What now?” Marik asked, still trying to peer into the darkness.
“You do not have sea eyes,” the captain said with a chuckle. “She is out there. We will douse our lamps and run in the dark. We will tack and change directions to try and lose them. But we are laden down with cargo, and they are lighter. Unless we can outwit them, they will catch us.”
Chapter Five
Glaerion looked up to the sky and saw only blackness. He had lost count of the days that they had been at sea as each day seemed to blend into the next. There was little to do other than to help out the other sailors. In the many days that he had been on the ship, he learned how to sew sails, scrub decks, and toss countless gallons of bilge water from below decks. The rolling of the deck no longer made him sick, and in fact he had gotten so used to it that he barely even noticed the up and down motion of the ship cutting through the waves of the sea.
The winds of the sea had gotten cold over the past week. He now wore a thick blanket around his shoulders each time he was up on the deck. And with the weather having turned, he had spent less and less time up there. The sailors only wore a thick wool shirt to do their duties, but they also avoided time on deck as much as they could. Most of their time was spent huddled in their large cabin below the deck trying to stay warm.
The captain had taken his turn piloting his vessel. He stood straight and tall, his right hand firmly grasping the end of the tiller. He wore a thick cloak, but he kept the hood off to let the cold wind blow through his hair.
“How do you know where we are going?” Glaerion asked. “The star that is guiding us is gone. There is no sun, no moon, or even another star in the sky.”
“The clouds have come,” Captain Janari replied. “It is a sign that we are close to the land of Man. They have come to hide our path, but I have been sailing ships for six hundred years and I can feel my way through the ocean. I can feel the waves of the sea and feel the tides as they move us north. I do not need a star to guide us.” He lifted a hand and pointed directly across the bow of the ship. “The land of Man is there. Straight ahead.”
Glaerion squinted to try and see any land, but he could only see blackness, even with his great vision.
“It is yet below the horizon. It will be some hours before we arrive. When the sun rises in the morning, perhaps.”
“We have made good time, then.”
“Indeed. The wind blows our sails with a strong force and we have arrived more quickly than I had thought. Before tomorrow’s sun is high upon our heads, we should be walking upon the beaches of the realm of Man.”
“We will make for one of their ports,” Glaerion declared.
“It would be wise of us to stay away from their cities.”
“You fear them?”
Janari did not reply. He only glanced at his passenger briefly before returning his gaze to the sea.
“I fear no man,” Glaerion said. “We will land our ships at their city and meet with their kings. We will find who the magic wielders are and then we shall slay them.”
“King Illichian g
ave me very specific orders to stay away from them. I am not to expose this ship or my crew to danger. I must be available to return you home.”
“The king is not here. You are under my command, so you will do as I say.”
Janari straightened up. “This is my ship. I do not take orders from you. I first serve my king and then my crew. I will not disobey the orders of my liege or ignore the responsibility I have for my sailors.”
“Today, you will take orders from me. Man poses a threat to our existence and we must wipe out the threat before they wipe us out. The last time that they held the power of the web of magic, they almost destroyed the world. We cannot let them have that power again. We will not sneak around and spend days or weeks trying to find out who it is that has the power. We must act quickly and aggressively, if need be.”
“We cannot expose ourselves so openly,” the captain countered. “If they were to attack this ship, we are but a handful of fishermen. We are not soldiers and we are definitely not an army.”
“We must draw out their mages to find them. That is how we will expose them. And when they are exposed, then I will slay them. I have waited thousands of years to continue the war with man. And this time, we will win.”
“That is not what the king wishes,” the captain said coolly. “The king will not want war. He will want this threat removed, but he will not want war again.”
“Mankind is a scourge upon the earth, and I will eradicate them.”
“You would do well to control your anger. It will be your downfall.”
“I have controlled it!” Glaerion snapped back. “For five thousand years, I have held it at bay. Now it is time for my anger to be released on mankind. You were not there. You were not betrayed by Man and you did not fight in their wars. I was there and I remember each and every moment. I remember each and every elven death and that is why I will have my vengeance. If you had in your memories what I have, then you would feel as angry as I do.”
“It is true I was born in exile, but maybe that has given me perspective. We do not need a war with them.”
“You do not have perspective!” Glaerion shot back. “You have a childish naiveté. You will find out soon enough, though. When Man is confronted and they fight back, you will see the barbarians that they are. I only hope it will not be too late and that I am able to kill these mages first.”
Glaerion spun and marched off into the darkness towards the ship’s bow. Captain Janari watched with sadness at the anger that he saw from Glaerion. It was true that he had not been born in the time of the wars with Man. It was many years afterwards that his mother bore him. What he knew of those times were only exaggerated tales told to children at bedtime. Rarely did anyone talk honestly of those days and when they did, it was only about the good times of living in their homeland. He could not imagine what the war must have been like, so he could not judge Glaerion for his anger. But the king’s commands were clear. They were not to expose themselves to danger or risk their ability to quickly return back to their home. The king needed information more than he needed Glaerion to run off and seek revenge.
With a strong wind at his back, the sails were stiff and full, pushing the elven ship quickly through the water. It would soon be time for one of his men to take over piloting duty, but he would turn them away. There was not an ounce of weariness in his body as he was anxious to see the land of Man. The danger both excited him and made him fearful, which made him still undecided on how much he would help Glaerion if he went against the king’s orders. Life as a fisherman was not exciting and the thought of an adventure in a strange land did excite him.
***
Captain Janari was still manning the tiller when the sun began its slow climb up the eastern sky. Glaerion returned to the open deck, shaking the coldness out of his bones. The skies had cleared and the air was much colder than it had been during the night. He could see each breath of his sailors as they went about their morning duties.
Janari kept his gaze upon the northern horizon as Glaerion approached.
“I apologize if my anger felt directed at you,” Glaerion said.
Janari simply gave a nod to accept the apology. “The king would be displeased if he knew of the conversation. To defy him would not be wise.”
“My mind will not be swayed,” Glaerion said calmly. “The king sits upon his throne in the center of a dark chamber half a world away. He has entrusted me to carry out this duty, and with that comes the responsibility for making decisions that will protect our people. Mankind is a threat, and I must do all I can to eliminate that threat. If I were to leave that threat alone and return back home, it would be late spring by the time we could return. That may be too late. We need to be prepared to act now.”
Janari nodded towards the bow of the ship. “There she is. You can just see her at the edge of the horizon. The land of Man. The great new star is back high in the sky and it will guide us to our destination. If it is to a city, then I will moor my ship in their harbor or at their docks. If it is to an empty beach, then I will weigh anchor and I will leave you there. The king has entrusted you with this task, so I will defer judgement to you. But I will not risk my ship or my crew. You will be on your own.”
Glaerion nodded his head in agreement. “That is fair.” He turned and looked up at the mysterious bright star in the sky. “We will let this star guide our fates. It is has brought us here, so we will see how far it takes us.”
The ship cut through the water swiftly, riding over small, choppy waves. Gone were the deep swells of the sea now that they were in the Gulf of Taran. The elves had no name for this body of water, nor did they know the human name of the land they were approaching. Their original homelands were far to the west across another large body of water. The lands to the north had always been an unknown. Fishermen such as Captain Janari had traveled far from their home, but never as far north as the continent Man had named Krania. The excitement of a new land brought all the sailors to the top deck and even those that had nothing to do found something to keep themselves busy.
The clouds stayed away, allowing the sun to warm them despite the cold air of winter. With the wind still at their backs, they did not feel any wind, allowing them to feel even warmer. The thick wool cloaks and shirts were tossed aside as the sailors climbed ropes to trim the sails or scrubbed the decks clean of the salt of the sea. But one eye was always on the ever growing land on the horizon.
With excruciating slowness, the land of Man came close. With no clouds to hide their guiding star, Captain Janari kept the bow of his ship directly on course with the star, which was now just a small point of light in the brightness of the day. The winter sun crossed the sky behind them, keeping their backs warm and their eyes free to see ahead of them. At first all they could discern was a long stretch of grey shadows on the horizon. As they neared the coast, the land played out before them, stretching to either horizon from east to west. One of the lookouts who had climbed to the top of the main mast had called down that he could see land to the east, just at the limit of his sight. But there was only open water to the west. He was also the first to see the city, not directly underneath the star, but just a degree or two off to the left. Janari adjusted the tiller to head directly towards it.
The coastal land was mo
stly flat, so there was little to see. With the lack of an extensive forest or towering cliffs, Glaerion considered the land of man pretty benign. But he found the city quite interesting. He could see tall buildings that were made from stone and brick that were two or three stories tall. There were many buildings, more than he would have expected. A long pier stretched out into the water, but there were not any boats or ships tied to it. Two ships, their masts bare, sat anchored off to their left.
Janari called for the sails to be lowered to cut their speed as they approached the city. His crew jumped to action and climbed up rope ladders to drop the sails onto the deck where another team of sailors was waiting to neatly roll up the canvas. Everyone had a job except for Glaerion, who took a spot well out of the way of everyone else. He stood several feet behind Janari, who still manned the tiller.
Glaerion felt his heart begin to race with excitement as they neared their destination. For the first time in ages he felt alive and frightened at the same time. Being in a strange land where anything could happen actually made him feel at home. For so many years he had lived a simple life in exile, just hunting and living. His adventurous side had always been there and he had spent years traveling throughout their new homeland. Over the thousands of years, he had forged trails and paths that would take him hundreds of miles from his home, over tall mountain ranges and through dense jungles. He had come across strange and wonderful animals and seen so many amazing sites of nature, but none had given him the thrill that he now felt. He took a long, deep breath to slow his beating heart.
“We will drop anchor out here,” Janari called back. He then called out orders to his crew, who quickly jumped to action to deploy their anchor.
“We are still a bit far out,” Glaerion observed. With his keen vision, he could clearly see men and women walking the streets of the city near the water. It would be a long boat ride from their ship to shore.