Winds of Torsham (The Kohrinju Tai Saga Book 2)

by J P Nelson

  The Ubank would be commanded by Captain Villiam S’Getti. He was a seasoned officer who served with distinction in the East Aeshean War. Older than Jha’Ley by fifteen years, solid and a stalwart navy man, S’Getti had a taste for exploration. His vessel was an older frigate, but sturdy and sound.

  Her LOD was one hundred thirty feet with a forty-foot-beam, full-rigged with three masts, a stern-castle, and carried a compliment of twenty-six of the now famous Balder Ballistae. Ubank was first to come off the line with a specialized missile-deck, housing six Balder Ballistae to a side and a pair at stern. On the main-deck were five of the Balders to a side with a pair at the bow. She also had a reinforced hull and a forged steel plate on the bow for ramming, the unicorn.

  As the expedition launched, there were a total of seven such frigates in the water, considered the most advance combat vessels of their time. The new designs by Redding were expected to render these obsolete. Among them would be the new Clarise Class Schooner, Esmeralda Class Frigate, and the new vessel of which design Redding had shown Jha’Ley, but had not yet been laid down.

  Of the Qua’Korr and Captain Ervis, Jha’Ley was most familiar. She was an even older frigate, one hundred and twenty feet LOD and full-rigged, long since refit for trade. A fore and stern-castle had been added and only three missile weapons to a side had remained. These were replaced with five Balder Ballistae to a side, a pair to bow and one to stern for this voyage. She had been a valiant combat vessel in her day, and had once sported the unicorn fitting at the bow. Due to her original purpose in construction, her hull was stout and formidable.

  On the 23rd day of the 3rd month, the squad of three vessels led by Commodore Jann Jha’Ley cast off for a voyage to last over three years. On the same day, however, other events were taking place.

  First of all, it was the first evening I fought under the name Gojai Dianbo, beginning the longest continual run and most coliseum-style victories in the history of Aeshea.

  Second of all, it was the first time I actually fought in an actual coliseum, and not a pit.

  Thirdly, it was the first time an elf had ever fought in a coliseum in northeast Aeshea, namely in Franswa of Lychiwal. Edgarfield had been fighting me in the pits up and down the coast.

  Fourthly, once more the paths of Jann Raul Jha’Ley and me intertwined, although indirectly, and it would not be felt for years. One would think our fates had been linked together, if you believe in that sort of thing.

  Captain Hastings was down on his luck. He was commissioned with the schooner, VNS Cowel, as fine a vessel as one could wish for, but the laurels he felt he deserved had not come his way. He had yet to lose an actual engagement, but twice a fish he really should have caught slipped through his fingers.

  Bitterness and ego gave way to drink and gamboling, and Ormond Hastings was not an astute player of the tiles. In fact, I have it on good authority he was below average at such a game. He had taken turns at other forms of chance and fared no better.

  This particular night he was very deep in debt and had, shall we say, borrowed a significant amount of funds to put down on what should have been an easy, low-risk opportunity to make some good coin, pay his debts, and have some left over.

  Edgarfield had for years been the biggest name in the gladiator business, but had fallen out of light due to a woman fighter he handled named Lath. No one I had talked to was sure of the whole story, but one night he had the two top names in the business, Lath and a four-armed man named Challero, and the next he was bankrupt.

  She disappeared from the public eye, and Challero only appeared on fight cards sporadically. He was often put to use by his new owner as a bodyguard.

  In Lychiwal, Edgarfield had managed to get me listed in a triple main event, third from the primus due to the novel idea of an elf fighting in Bloodbait. The odds were heavy against me, and the favorite was a hairy fellow who could have been sired by a gorilla.

  When I fight, the shuffling-step-style I use has been described as smooth and gliding, and it makes the fringe of my boots swing and sway as well. That, with my hand motion, hawk-like look in my eyes, the swish of my hair and body language, I am told it makes for a flamboyant visual effect. I have also been told I am intimidating. I don’t know, I have never seen me fight, but I know how I feel and in the ring I have never lost. If I had, I wouldn’t be putting this to quill.

  When the gorilla-man and me squared off, I knew the stakes had gone up from the low-class people I had fought under Lucky Laury. This jiuk looked mean. When we engaged, he snarled at me and bared his teeth to show teeth which had been filed sharp. At least, I think they were filed. I’ve only seen some fish with teeth like that.

  He came after me as if he wanted to eat me, not beat me. The thought of going down to someone as their main course simply wasn’t appealing, so as he charged I ducked low to the left and rammed my right fist home to his midsection, then followed quickly to where I thought the kidney should be, with the left knuckles extended in what I call a leopard’s paw.

  I grabbed his hair, the hair on top of his head, I mean, and yanked back. Instead of falling backward, he did a 360° flip and handspring and landed on his feet, then slapped me in the face with that bottom thing, hand or foot, I’m not sure what it was. Anyway, the fight was on and the crowd loved it.

  Finally, I caught him on my shoulders and gave him a good spin, then threw him over with a fireman’s carry but in reverse, meaning I held onto the leg instead of the arm. Hanging onto his right ankle as he went through the air, I stepped back, making him land harder on his back. Quickly, I stepped between his straddle with my left foot, then spun left-wise over his body and around his leg to face him with one movement. Reaching down, I grabbed his other ankle, placed the leg I spun around directly over the knee of the second leg in figure-4 fashion, then sat back and draped my right leg over his crossed ankle and arched back hard.

  It took a couple of moments as the gorilla-man screamed in agony, remember, I am beyond normal strong due to my training and healing ability, then his knee broke as the joint folded backward. I then did a back-roll into a standing position. Feeling mean and a bit flashy, I leaped against the wall of the fighting bay and went airborne, performed a gymnastic back-flip as I hurtled over my screaming opponent, and landed flat chest down against his chest.

  Then I stood and jumped straight up, executed what is called a tornado-stomp kick, and landed my foot into his throat. Match over; and so was Hastings’s finances … but that much I didn’t know.

  It was later in a tavern that Hastings managed the coin for a tankard of ale. He was joined by a fellow who was described as being ‘Clearly of Siaco.’ What the two discussed wasn’t loud enough for anyone to hear, not anyone without special abilities, that is, or a specialist who really wanted to hear, but when the two got up from the table they shook hands. Only Hastings didn’t look very happy.

  I know this because there was a certain someone else at that fight, someone on other business who was actually looking for a contact at that fight. This someone happen chanced to be in that tavern with no interest of Hastings, or his business. The only word which stuck in their memory was Esmeralda, which for all this someone knew could have been a horse, or something.

  At that time, this someone didn’t know who Hastings was, or me, for that matter. But it all came together years later. He is a person who forgets nothing. I came to know him as Bannock.

  The first goal of the Meinkutt Expedition was to observe and study the B’Frios Ridge. Briefly stopping in Franswa, Hastings had long since cast off. Nobody from the vessels came to any of the fights, but once more Jha’Ley and I were at the same place at the same time.

  If one were superstitious and traced our paths over the next four years, you would find many significant occurrences in our lives took place at the same time, sometimes in the same hour. No, I don’t believe in fate, but I thought you might be interested in the coincidence.

  In any case, the trio of ships took on a load of
rum, Franswa being known for brewing the very best on the east coast. Then they sailed for the ridge.

  Val’Nahahl is a really big piece of territory, beginning in the northern glacier region of the Kohntia Mountains, tracing the center of those mountains down to the Pihpikow Road, following said road all the way to the Mon’Cique, and encompassing all of northeastern Aeshea. It is largely an ice covered territory with glaciers, frozen mountains and what-have-you.

  For the most part, there they say if you aren’t at least seven feet tall you are short, which gives way to tales of Ice Giants, families of barbarian gods, and all manner of things. Up to this point, the only humans known to travel in there were those of the Chin’Tohvai Gypsy Caravan. They made trade all around the Phabeon and Alburin Seas, then up through a secret trail known as the Leprechaun Highway into the Bristahven Mountains, the realm of winged folk.

  That caravan produced the likes of Sandalfoot Bushwin, Sym Savoltry, Kestro the Tahn, and an old wizard woman named G’Ami. No one knows exactly how long they had been around, but one old timer’s journal had him trading with those folk as far back as 4825 ED. The word has been they were among the last of the Nakoai. Something must have happened, though, the last time they were seen was at Taggert’s Trading Post, in the western Kohntia Foothills, headed for Bristahven in summer 5132 ED, just eight years before.

  The ruins of Cheun Gak, an ancient D’Warvec Kingdom, were supposed to be up there somewhere, too. And then there was the Temple of Odin, Lonahki and his barbarians, lost civilizations, treasure … all the things that would make a seeker of adventure want to risk all. Adventure hunters … another way of saying crazy people.

  Just off to the northeast tip of Val’Nahahl is the land of Mittugahr, what many argue to be a large island, others contend is part of Aeshea. For the sake of current mapmaking, it is shown as part of the main continent due to the sheet of ice which makes it at least appear so. The debate was due to the peninsula which connected the two. Was it ice or land?

  Much of Mittugahr is a glacier covered mountain range, for which the land is named. If this is an island, then it has the highest reaching mountain of any island in the world. The peak is estimated at over twenty-six thousand feet. None of the humans living around the coastline or in the foothills have any record of anyone climbing up, but they pretty much all are sure a wondrous land called Æsgardt, ruled by a god named Odin of One Eye, was at the top where Odin could watch over the Nine Whorltz of Mittugahr.

  I know you are scratching your heads to wonder, ‘What is a whorltz?’ It is something akin to a large county or small state, and the word doesn’t translate into any of the known tongues. But each is ruled by a chieftain and sometimes they are friendly, sometimes they are at war with each other. At this particular time they were at peace.

  In 4943 ED, Captain Severn from Lychiwal took his vessel, the LMS P’Dynn, into the Meinkutt Sea to once and for all find a sailing route to allow better trade with the Kohnarahs Bay Territory. Several tries had previously been made, and it had been determined the island, called Hel’s Gate by those of Mittugahr, extended far into the northern glaciers, and the ice between it and mainland made sailing impossible.

  Severn had gone three times before, but this time he found a current close to Val’Nahahl’s coast. Said current would allow a vessel to traverse the icy water for six to eight weeks a year. With a sextant and chronometer, he determined B’Frios to be four miles thick and just over seven miles long. He also estimated its height at six thousand feet.

  The peninsula was either made of, or was covered by, the glacier. One couldn’t tell, until recently. One of its unique features was all across the top it reflected a prism of scintillating colors. B’Frios was the Mittugahr word for Bridge of Rainbow, or, Rainbow Bridge. They believed it was a bridge for the gods to connect with the world of men.

  Over recent years, the bottom was slowly falling away, making a gargantuan ice cave. If possible, Jha’Ley wanted to see if this was occurring on both sides. If so, it could present a more direct passage to the north, making access to trade with Kohnarahs Bay a bit easier. As it was, ships had to navigate around the harsh waters of Mittugahr.

  At the mouth of B’Frios, all aboard the three vessels were in awe. The cave was showing rock at the top and running deep inside was a ceiling Jha’Ley estimated at twenty-six hundred feet high.

  Lieutenant Dalton was standing by the commodore and asked with a reverent whisper, “Sir, is it your wish to enter this dark hole?”

  “Yes, Mister Dalton, it is.” He looked about, “Raise flags to signal the others to stand fast. Mister Rufus, let us test the wind and current for our logs. Easy and straight at her.”

  They sailed a full mile inward and saw the wall of ice at an incline before them … then Jha’Ley felt a sudden change in the air pressure. Looking up, he saw the ceiling begin to move, and with full alarm yelled, “Come full about, Mister Rufus, now man NOW!”

  Chapter 15

  YOU COULD HEAR a sound like unto a woman’s screams and mournful wail as layers of ice were separating from above. The wind reaching into this vast cave was like a torrent of mixed emotions, as if B’Frios could not decide whether to allow these tiny creatures to explore her depths. The current of the water was likewise volatile.

  The depth of the cave was not determined, so the crew wasted no time on poles. They went right to oars, carried in case of necessity. No member of the crew was within hammock this moment, as all manned a station. Jha’Ley himself grasped the wood of an oar.

  The seaman beside who Jha’Ley stood, a sturdy youth named Lebracio, was both surprised and delighted to see that the commodore would put hands to the physical task beside his men. His previous captain would not sully his hands to do so.

  Where panic could quickly have consumed the crew in the face of looming doom, the calm and calls of encouragement from Jha’Ley, as well as his hearty labor beside them, was infectious. Lieutenant Dalton, obviously not used to such measures, followed suit as he tossed hat and jacket to grasp an oar beside another man, plying his own rigid muscles to task.

  It was to Sailing Master Rufus, dispensing his savvy of wind and current upon the crew, as he called a steady stream of orders to eke the most of sail trim and degree turn of the rudder. Each inch of distance gained at the fastest possible speed was of critical importance. Beside him worked Telroy, showing his own iron will and clear minded tenacity to the challenge at hand.

  Drums were beating-to-quarters, as the crew worked as one to fight this battle, for a battle it surely was to save the Clarise from a dire fate. “To enter the afterlife, so soon into the expedition is not to be had,” Jha’Ley called out to his men.

  Raised upon a fishing boat in a region of high storms and hurricanes, Rufus was prepared for the violent wind by falling ice and the torrent of water, as well. There was no way to warn the pair of vessels at cave’s mouth; Rufus sent them a hearty prayer.

  As Caroll worked, he could be heard praying in earnest to Ehl’Rohlahn, not for mercy, but for strength. He was at stern when he saw the vast sheet of ice fall with a wail of sound, and hit the water as the force of air and sea smashed into the Clarise ……

  …… The force of an oversized hand slapped me across the face, as at that same moment I was fighting the primus match in the first event of the Arena of Webster. We were making a tour on the Pihpikow Road, heading for Dahruban and the coliseum where Edgarfield once ruled.

  Never underestimate someone’s combat ability just because they are shorter than you, or assumed to be lazy. Chonatts look human, sorta, but are usually attributed to being a sub-species of d’warv. D’warvec people don’t accept that, but that is how it is.

  Have you ever looked into one of those tricky mirrors? You know, the ones that make you look stretched out and tall, or thin, or wavy? A chonatt looks like a human in one of those mirrors, made 20% shorter and stretched out 20 % wider. They aren’t necessarily fat, but wide. And they have an extra finger, really wide finge
rs on a really wide hand.

  They tend to be sluggish in their movements, but really intelligent. What most people don’t realize, is they are way stronger than a human, somewhere between a human and a d’warv. I was finding that out now.

  It’s like the way humans usually attribute things to elves that just aren’t true. Take for instance, exaggerated length and points on our ears in pictures, or that elves are immortal. My favorite is, elves are instinctively, characteristically noble … as an old chum used to say, pig shit. But my point is, and what I was continually learning, do … not … assume.

  The presence of chonatts on Orucean had only been traced back to around 3200 ED, a little after the Kl’Duryq War was over, and they are somewhat secretive. To knowledge, they have never developed an actual culture of their own; at most they live in communities within towns and cities already established.

  Much is not known about them, but my education was growing. This fellow wasn’t what you call quick, but unbelievably flexible. He was also anticipating my every move, and that was unnerving. As forceful as his blows were, something was askew here. Then it hit me … pardon the pun … as he swatted me once more with that big oversized palm.

  He was constantly wiggling those oversized fingers, but they moved with such fluid dexterity, and a pattern, a pattern … Mon’Gouchett, that was it. He had a pattern, he was using magic. With a calculated grin on his face, he swatted me again. The blow radiated somehow through my being a dull, repressing effect, sapping the strength and energy right out of me.

  A great teacher once told me, “The first step in overcoming the unknown adversary, is determining the unknown variable.” I was determining the unknown variable ……

  …… Caroll’s booming, gravel deep voice carried the distance of the Clarise as he yelled, “Brace for impact!”

  The navy of Vedoa has long been known as the premier militant force upon the sea, much due to their intense training. But Jha’Ley’s drills were far and away beyond even Vedoa’s regimen. Since the Presittorn Voyage, hard and regular drills were intended to prepare for any conceivable situation, weather included.