Children of Another God tbw-1

by T C Southwell

  A rustle of wings beside her made her glance around. A gull had landed not two feet from her, and regarded her with silver-blue eyes as he shuffled his wings into place. Talsy smiled.

  "I have passage on a ship," she told him. "It sails this afternoon."

  The gull stretched his neck and looked around.

  "I don't know its name," she answered the silent question. "But you'll see me board it."

  The gull puffed out his feathers and shook himself. Glad of his presence, she sat on the wall beside him and watched the wharf's bustle and the ships sailing in and out of the harbour. At noon, her stomach growled, and she left the Mujar to purchase lunch at a nearby tavern. Returning to the sea wall, she brought a slice of bread, which she tore into little bits and fed to the gull. He took them from her fingers, and she longed to stroke the smooth soft feathers, but doubted that he would appreciate it.

  "That's a very tame bird." A voice behind her made her turn as Chanter took wing.

  The grey-eyed sea captain sauntered up, smiling. He glanced up at the wheeling birds. "They're good eating, you know."

  Talsy shuddered and swallowed the hot words that leapt onto her tongue at his callous observation. "Are we leaving now?"

  He nodded. "They've almost finished loading the cargo."

  Once again, his eyes raked her, making her skin crawl, and she was glad when he turned away. She followed him to a gangplank that spanned the gap to a modest, well-built schooner. He helped her aboard in a gentlemanly fashion, but she shuddered at his touch. Bales were stacked on the deck, and the ship sat low in the water. The captain led her to a hatchway, where Talsy hesitated, unwilling to follow him into the ship's bowels.

  "I'd like to stay on deck," she said.

  "For two days?"

  She hid her dismay with a bland smile. Chanter had said a day and a night, but evidently it took longer on a ship.

  Talsy followed the captain down a steep stairway, filled with trepidation. He took her to a cabin in the stern of the ship with a narrow bunk on one side and a desk and chair on the other. At the back was a diamond-paned window made from poor quality glass. She put down her bag and turned to find him smiling, his demeanour smug.

  "This is my cabin, but it's yours for the trip."

  "Where will you sleep?"

  "I'll bunk with the men. It's only two nights."

  Talsy frowned. "I thought you said two days."

  "Yes, two days and two nights. We dock early in the morning of the third day. That's depending on the weather, of course."

  She fingered the hilt of her hunting knife, drawing his eyes to it. "It's very kind of you to give me your cabin, captain."

  He raised cold eyes to hers. "Think nothing of it."

  After he left, she sank down on the bunk with a sigh. For all that he was handsome, the captain made her nervous. Half an hour later, the sounds from above told her that they were setting sail, and soon the ship rolled on ocean waves. Afraid that Chanter might have missed her boarding the ship, she went on deck. The bustle of undocking had calmed, and a brisk offshore wind filled the sails. Sailors coiled ropes or sat smoking and talking in groups. The wind freshened, filled the sails to capacity and drove the ship along at a good rate. Talsy knew who was responsible for it and looked up for her gull. Many wheeled above, making it impossible to pick out one with blue eyes.

  The captain joined her at the railing. "Nice wind. We should make good time if this keeps up."

  "Let's hope it does."

  "Yes." He eyed her. "Odd to get an offshore wind at this time of year."

  "Lucky for us," she replied.

  The captain scowled, then turned to shout orders at some malingering men before walking off. Glad to be left alone, Talsy relaxed and watched the sparkling sea foaming along the ship's flanks. The rest of the afternoon passed pleasantly, and at dusk she retreated to her cabin, where a boy brought her a hot fish stew for dinner. The cabin door had a latch, and she locked it after the boy left.

  An hour later, just as she was about to climb onto the bunk, a knock at the door startled her.

  "Who is it?" she ask ed.

  "It's the captain." The door rattled.

  "What do you want?"

  "I have some wine. I thought we could have a drink together."

  "Thank you," she called, "but I'm too tired."

  Talsy held her breath as a long silence fell, then the door flew open with a crash. The captain sauntered in, a bottle of wine in hand, wearing a thunderous scowl.

  "I don't like to be turned down, missy," he growled. "Two coins don’t buy the captain's cabin, you know."

  "Then you shouldn't have given it to me," she snapped. "I'll sleep on deck." Picking up her bag, she went to pass him.

  He stepped into her path. "Not so fast, girl. You just have to be a little friendly, and you can stay here."

  "I don't wish to."

  "Surely you know how these things work? A girl travelling alone should have learnt the rules of the road. I know you're not from Jishan, so you're wise to it, aren't you?"

  "No." She stepped back, putting the bag down. "I learnt how to make my own rules." She slid the big knife from her belt.

  The captain eyed it with a smile. "A big knife, but you're just a little girl."

  Talsy raised the weapon. "I know how to use it."

  His eyes narrowed, and he stepped back. "You're going to regret this, girl. I expect more payment than a mere two coins for this passage."

  "Too bad, that's all you asked for. Get out."

  The captain hesitated, measured her with his eyes and probably wondered if he could take the knife away without getting injured. Evidently he decided the risk was too great, for he turned on his heel and left, slamming the door. Talsy relaxed with a sigh, sagging onto the bunk. When her heart had stopped pounding, she rose and dragged the chair across the room to jam under the door handle.

  Chanter drifted high above a black sea silvered by a glittering moon path that led to the rising orb. Below him, the dark ship ploughed through restless waves, its foaming bow wave aglow with phosphorescence, leaving a shimmering trail that the ocean tossed. A short while ago, he had perched atop the swaying mast to listen to the ship's faint Dolana. It carried no warning of danger to the girl, freeing him to spread his wings and let the wind lift him into the air. The ocean's dark depths beckoned with gentle liquid swells and the promise of endless mystery and excitement.

  Folding his wings, he dived through the cold wind and into Shissar's welcoming embrace. As he slipped beneath the waves, he invoked the Power and exchanged his feathered, long-winged form for a sleek grey shape powered by sweeping flukes. With a flick of his tail, he slid through the water that enfolded him in a soft clasp. Shissar was the friendliest of the Powers, the tender healer and wellspring of life. Like returning to the pod that had birthed him, the touch of water sent thrills of delight through him.

  With swift vertical strokes of his flukes, he glided through the sea, tasting the currents that flowed beneath the waves. Amid the layers of cold and warm, sweet and salty, he revelled in the ocean's mighty bounty of sensations. The black depths stretched away in every direction save up, where the moon's glimmer shone through the wave patterns. A flash of silver below revealed a solitary hunting fish, eyes agleam as it searched for prey.

  Chanter dived deeper with a gentle lashing of his tail, and soon inky blackness surrounded him. The water sliding over his skin and the warm and cold currents gave sensation in this dark world. Passing swells rocked him as they marched across the sea, and the currents that ran through it on their way to distant shores tugged at him. Within the freezing black depths, he sensed the ocean floor and levelled off, letting the sea take him where it would.

  Below him, myriad tiny creatures sent signals of light into the darkness, flashing dances of sparkles that pulsed and shimmered, spiralled and glimmered, filling the blackness with their little beacons. Fish carried biotic lanterns to light their way, denizens of the darkness that h
ad never seen any light but their own. Hunters waved flashing lamps to attract the unwary, luring them to certain death in sucking mouths. Within these watery depths, a strange song of pops and crackles, buzzes and rattles mixed with the faint ballad of a distant pod of whales rejoicing in their freedom and the birth of a calf.

  Chanter flicked his flukes and started upward, leaving behind the secret dark world. His lean, muscled form arrowed through the water, whose gentle caress became a strong stroking as it parted before him and slid along his length. Moonlight sent shafts of silver downwards, then he leapt into an empty world of light and swift, cold wind. He blew out mist and inhaled before plunging back into the waves, lighting them with a green glow amid the white spume. Back in the buoyant environment for which his form was designed, he powered through the waves, leaping from one swell to the next.

  A pod of his sleek grey brothers and sisters joined him with glad cries and smiling mouths, dark liquid eyes sparkling with their innate joy. They gambolled in the waves, rubbed smooth skins and flippers, and blew puffs of spray before diving back into the depths. They sought out the whales and joined them as the new mother nudged her calf to the air, the big bulls watchful for predators amid the birth blood. Two older bulls hung head down and sang their piercing, poignant song of welcome to the new member of their pod.

  Chanter headed back towards the ship, followed by the playful dolphins. As the first rosy streaks of dawn lighted the sky, he decided it was time to quit Shissar's safety and return to the emptiness of Ashmar. The ship sailed silhouetted against the golden dawn as he made his final ascent and leapt into the air. The Power of Ashmar transformed him, and he clawed his way into the wind with long, fragile wings. Buffeted by the cold air, he sailed high, looking down at the sleek grey shapes that frolicked in the waves below. With a tilt of his wings, he let the wind sweep him to the ship, there to settle on the mast top and test the ship's Dolana. A few sleepy sailors emerged to stretch and yawn as the cook prepared breakfast on deck.

  Talsy emerged, clutching her coat close against the cold wind, and took a bowl of steaming porridge before vanishing below again. Satisfied that she was well, Chanter tucked up a foot and puffed out his feathers. He pondered the distant Rashkar, only a few hours away by air. Perhaps he should go ahead and see what he could find out before Talsy arrived. She seemed safe, and surely the sailors had no reason to harm her. This close to his goal, the urge to find the boy, Arrin, was strong. He could be back at the ship by dusk. Talsy would be on her own for just a few hours. Making his decision, he spread his wings and let the wind lift him into the air.

  Chanter flew low over the wave tops, swooping through deep troughs between the swells where the air was easier to fly. The sun was only a halfway to its zenith when Rashkar came into sight.

  The great city sprawled for miles up and down the coast, far larger than Jishan, one of the largest Chanter had seen. Unlike Jishan, Rashkar gleamed white in the sun, a city of whitewashed stone and wood. Two massive stone breakwaters calmed the harbour and banned the ocean swells. Here ships lay at anchor or docked beside the wharf, boats swimming between them with flashing oars. He wheeled above the city, studying the centre of it, where straight roads intersected between tall buildings with grey-tiled roofs. On the outskirts, the roads became warped into a maze amongst smaller dwellings, losing the orderly design of its original builders.

  Finding the barracks was easy enough. Dusty parade grounds and sprawling tent towns bordered the cluster of long, low buildings. He floated down to perch on a rooftop, surveying the men below. Hundreds marched around in the dust, others trained in groups with slashing swords and parrying shields. Many more lived in the tents and rested in the barracks. How was he to find one man amongst so many? The task seemed impossible, for none of his Powers would aid him in this endeavour.

  Pondering the problem, he watched the men. He could not search for red hair; the men wore helmets and looked alike. He would have to ask Talsy to help as part of her clan bond. All she had to do was enquire as to the whereabouts of young Arrin. Once he had the answer, he could do the rest himself. Perhaps he would have to grant a Wish in return, but Talsy would not ask for much.

  As he was about to spread his wings once more, a nearby conversation caught his ear, and he turned his head to listen. Two officers paused in their strolling below, brought to a halt by the serious nature of their topic.

  "How many physicians have seen the Prince?"

  "Too many, if you ask me."

  From Chanter’s vantage, only the top of the soldiers' helmets were visible.

  The first man nodded. "It seems certain that he will die, then?"

  The second officer replied, "The King is in despair, and it will augur badly for the future, since the Queen can have no more children."

  "Indeed. The kingdom shall have no heir."

  The first officer strolled onwards again. "Unless the King casts off Merrilin, but he is sadly reluctant to do so."

  Chanter pondered the information. A stroke of luck, it seemed, had fallen across his path. Spreading his wings, he flew towards the distant palace in the heart of the city. King Garsh's citadel rose above humbler buildings, fluted marble pillars supporting its high domed roof. Manicured gardens surrounded it, and mighty pillared buildings flanked them. A sprawl of servants' quarters and stables bordered these.

  Unimpressed by the magnificence of Lowmen's achievements, Chanter drifted down to alight upon one of the trees in the garden. Many gulls waited there, making his presence invisible amongst them. To find the King in the huge palace would be a daunting task, though not as impossible as finding the boy in the barracks. At least he would be able recognise the King.

  Chanter found out what the gulls waited for when a young girl in a frilly yellow dress came out and threw bread to them. The gulls swooped and caught it in mid-air, making her giggle with delight. When she left, so did the gulls, and Chanter had to wait alone as the sun traversed the sky. Waiting never bothered Mujar, since there was so much to see and hear, from the warbling of garden birds to the sap rising in the trees. People wandered past below, garishly dressed courtiers and their ladies, army officers with their advisors and scribes. Servants hurried by on errands, gardeners pushed barrows of leaves and manure. A giggling gaggle of maids came to cut roses for the palace, and a pair of young lovers met under a spreading tree nearby.

  The sun sank when a lone man walked with bowed head through the garden, his hands clasped behind his back. A simple dark blue velvet coat trimmed with gold embroidery and a crisp white shirt with lacy sleeves clad his burly form, his fawn leggings tucked into black leather boots. The thin gold band that encircled his brow caught Chanter's eyes. Flaxen hair hung in a plait down the King's back, and a darker, curly beard hid his chin. Frowns had lined his brutal visage, and cold green eyes glittered under shaggy brows. Though not a young man, King Garsh retained a well-muscled figure.

  Chanter glided down to land on the path before the King, who stopped to frown at him. Chanter transformed with a rush of Ashmar, and the King stepped back, his eyes widening, then his brows drew together in an even deeper frown.

  "Mujar!"

  Chanter held out a hand, palm up. "No harm."

  "What do you want, beggar?"

  "I ask a favour."

  King Garsh sneered, "Why should I grant you a favour?"

  "Is the King of Rashkar versed in the ways of Mujar?"

  The King snorted. "I care nothing for your kind."

  "You have an advisor who is?"

  "I have many advisors, but I don't need one to tell me how to deal with a damned Mujar!"

  Chanter shook his head. "You do."

  Garsh eyed Chanter, his florid face mottled with anger. He fiddled with his lacy sleeves, clearly torn, until curiosity got the better of him and he turned to bellow a name at the palace. A tense minute passed before a tall, slender man in a severe black suit emerged, with two guards. The soldiers started to draw their swords, and Chanter prepared to
invoke Ashmar. The advisor grabbed the soldiers' sleeves.

  "No! Don't threaten him! He's no danger to the King, he's Mujar!"

  Chanter relaxed as the guards released their weapons. The advisor, a clean-shaven young man with dark hair and brown eyes, passably handsome but for a prominent nose, persuaded them to stay where they were and came forward alone. The King turned to him as he arrived beside his monarch, and the advisor faced Chanter, holding out a hand, palm up.

  "No harm."

  Chanter nodded.

  King Garsh glared at his advisor. "Yusan, this upstart Mujar scum has the effrontery to come into my garden and beg me for a favour."

  "Grant it, Your Majesty," Yusan advised.

  "What?" The King looked incensed. "Why should I do anything for him?"

  Yusan turned to him. "Majesty, you pay me to advise you, and I beg you to listen to me. All will be clear as soon as you grant his favour."

  "But why the hell should I?"

  "Please, Majesty, just do it."

  King Garsh shook his head like an angry dire bear. "Yusan -"

  "Majesty, please," Yusan interrupted. "You will thank me for this if you do it. If you're displeased with the outcome, strike off my head, but grant the Mujar's wish before he grows tired of waiting and leaves."

  King Garsh studied his advisor's desperate face, his brows rising. "Very well, but if this displeases me, I shall indeed have your head."

  Yusan nodded, bowing.