Winds of Torsham (The Kohrinju Tai Saga Book 2)

by J P Nelson

  Toagun slid in beside him, “Yup! I would say every bit of it, and then some.”

  The young sniper added, “A man would have some really something of a field of fire up there.” He glanced to the Sealer, “It would be pretty safe from that point.”

  Toagun was looking up, and then he pointed, “See how those vines have grown way up there? Look just behind ‘em. Some kinda fire or something has hit up there. I’d say a big cocktail or something magic. What-da-ya-think, commodore?”

  Jha’Ley was staring, “I would say either or …”

  Dessi was sizing things up from a different context, “That building on our right is built right into the wall, I figure at thirty-five to forty-feet, and the one on the left is two thirds that. Both set with crenellations facing this ward which looks to be a bit more than fifty rods from building face to building face. This place is set to defend well, and to bottleneck anything that may make it through those doors. From a quick view, I suspect nothing has ever made it inside … not in a fight, anyway.”

  Corporal Guen was the eighth man and he turned to look up to the top of the structure they had just left. His eyes went wide as he stepped backward and away from the wall to get a better look. Shaking his head he exclaimed, “Now that is one humping tall building … for a place this size, I mean.”

  Fizer turned and looked, but he didn’t seem impressed.

  Dessi responded, “The bigger section on the left must have been the main building …” He stepped back and looked side to side, then pointed, “Yes, they were built at the same time from the same materials.”

  Toagun was curious, “You sure, sarge?”

  “Oh yes.” He motioned the man over and the two walked to the side as Dessi began explaining one-on-one.

  Seedle was shaking his head as he commented to Caroll, “I warned him once about getting Dessi started on engineering talk. He will drive you crazy with it.”

  Caroll passed the cob a good natured grin, then addressed Jha’Ley, “Your orders, commodore?”

  Jha’Ley looked up and held out his hands with open palms, “Well, gentlemen, it is snowing …”

  It did not take long to find passage to the wall top, and then locate a clear view to the vessels. Mirror signals flashed from wall top to ship deck and back. Within short moments, sailors and Marines were hard at work as the eight made a scanning survey of the grounds.

  All the main walls were still standing with no compromise to their integrity. Like the Rock Tower, Jha’Ley was wondering what might have led the inhabitants to desert. Vines had grown over the curtain wall and crept into the outer wards, but not into the center.

  Most of the ceilings and floors had rotted and fallen in, but there were plenty of options for shelter of their crew. The carpenters were already assessing materials and drawing plans for winter habitation.

  Toagun would take a team for power fishing the next day, and a team would do a full recon of the old village and fields to begin harvesting what they could. Dallio passed word first to Dessi, then Seedle, to meet Jha’Ley atop the gatehouse. Neither man was given to giving orders and then standing around sipping tea, if so, Jha’Ley would not have them in his command. Neither was the commodore.

  The two fell in together with only a nod in greeting as they made quick-time up the many stone steps. Both men were in great shape, but the day had been long and their speed had made the stairs a challenge. Breath was coming hard as they reached the top. Dessi was thinking the width by length, alone, of the gatehouse was bigger than most barns he had ever seen.

  Jha’Ley and Caroll were looking out through the crenellations; the bosun looked their way as they walked briskly to meet them. It was only the four of them at top. The commodore was holding his spyglass to his side, oblivious to the snow flurry lighting upon his cheeks, lost into deep thought.

  While looking out to the forest, with a one-hand flick of his wrist Jha’Ley snapped his glass open. Looking to Dessi he handed him the piece, “It is beautiful out there. Beautiful, but I fear our greatest challenge lies in that direction.”

  Dessi took the glass as Jha’Ley kept speaking, “I have been doing much thinking …” he looked to Seedle who was already trying to catch the commodore’s direction of thought. “Look back to Fort Choe … and the Balador …”

  Seedle was already catching the wind, “… the ship was in fine sailing order. All she needed was the right tide …”

  Dessi added, “… and the population practically vanished. We attributed it to trolls, somehow.”

  Seedle was letting his thoughts roll, well rehearsed thoughts as if he and Dessi had often had this conversation, “But trolls are dumb brutes. Everyone knows that …”

  “… and when they make attack it is with barbaric brutality. There should have been signs of destruction all through the settlement.”

  “That is correct,” added Seedle, “but there was not. Some, yes, and there was the barn, but not the carnage one would expect. There are some unknown variables within the story.”

  Caroll spoke, “But do we possess clear truth of all trolls? Evidence has been made to discovery of written troll language in old times. If language has been written, does it not stand reason intellect may still lie within some species?”

  Dessi and Seedle both looked to Caroll, then Seedle raised his eyebrows and exclaimed, “Trolls with intelligence?” He looked to Dessi, “Now that is a scary thought.”

  Jha’Ley added, “Let me suggest something scarier … intelligent trolls working in partnership with a human.”

  Seedle tilted his head to take it in, but Dessi squinted his eyes and drew back a bit and skeptically asked, “Okay, sir, where may I ask is this going?”

  Jha’Ley rubbed his mouth with his left hand and continued, “What if the attack at Fort Choe was a coordinated effort? What if someone within the pirate colony worked with the trolls, or maybe one or two leader-trolls?”

  Seedle’s face changed as Jha’Ley saw he was putting it together. Dessi tilted his head as he tried to see a connection. The expression on Caroll’s face showed he either already understood, or he and Jha’Ley had just discussed it, which could explain his understanding.

  Jha’Ley spoke to Dessi while watching Seedle think, “Whort Hahry made some comments, then Mister Yeau said something to me, and then I remembered some things from my childhood … Bosun Choe was reported dead by Old Uncle Liam. Captain Choe and his timeline is a bit too coincidental, as well as his knowledge of the territory.”

  Dessi glanced from commodore to cob as he listened, “Bosun Choe is recorded as having once been a hunter who preferred his studded leather armor. Old Uncle had, or maybe I should say has, a certain way of making his bolts and fletching …”

  Jha’Ley looked to Seedle, “You were on the Max Cat …”

  Seedle was slowly nodding, “Nice craft. Way, way advanced. One person could not have built it and I had never seen the wood before …” he glanced in the direction of the boathouse, “… till here.”

  He looked from Caroll, to Dessi, then leveled eye contact with Jha’Ley, “He loved telling his stories. You, commodore, me and a couple of the other mates were on the Cat and he mentioned living with some trolls for a while. I thought it was just a wild tale, at the time. I had forgotten about it. It was a brief mention between other tales, he did not dwell on it.”

  Dessi blew out, then asked, “Sir, are you sure?”

  Jha’Ley was matter-of-fact, “No. But I think it is the safest way to go. There is too much for speculation right now this minute, but he was a pirate, if not still. Let us say he coordinated the attack at Fort Choe … if he did not know of our presence before, I think evidence shows he knows we are here now.” He looked to each man, “These two tall ships would be hard to pass up as a prize for a pirate.”

  Dessi asked, “What of his loyalty, sir? Did he not long serve the queen? And if he knew you were here, you are his beloved nephew.”

  Jha’Ley pursed his lips in thought, “I hav
e been wondering of that. Sergeant, I do not believe he has loyalty to any save himself. I have come to believe he sees us all as tools.”

  Seedle spoke, “Sir, he gave you those maps …”

  Caroll looked to Jha’Ley as if he, too, had offered same point.

  Jha’Ley winced, “I have long dwelt upon that thought as well, but Mister Yeau said something which has long lingered, suggesting he may have held something, some portion of the maps back.”

  There was quiet as the four men looked to each other in silent contemplation. Then Caroll spoke, “Should retention of information have played part in uncle’s design, bearing of course would indicate intent to follow commodore’s forward discovery.”

  Seedle asked, “You mean … he followed us here?”

  Dessi countered, “But how, how would he know?”

  Caroll shrugged, “Anticipation?”

  Jha’Ley suggested, “He knows the Meinkutt, he knows the Uordak …” he kicked the crenellation with his toe, “… he either built, or had the Max Cat built right here.”

  Dessi followed the thought, “He was a cunning captain and a smart man, and apparently still is. Sir, I like the thought of anticipation. He beat us here, but that would indicate he knew, or believed you to come here within this timeframe.”

  Jha’Ley looked to the tree line, “Maybe.”

  Seedle blew, “Whew! Well, in any case,” he spoke to his mates, “I think it clear he intends to use the commodore …”

  Dessi cut to the chase, more in statement than question, “Sir, this is not why you asked us here, in private, the four of us together.”

  “No, it is not.”

  Jha’Ley leaned against the tall stone and gazed to each man in resolution, “If my suspicions are correct, if it is indeed Old Uncle, and if he has laid plans for us as spoil … it matters not if he knows it is I who leads this expedition … and if he coordinated effort with the trolls at Fort Choe … it is only responsible to assume he may do so in our own near future.”

  He looked to Dessi, “What I am gamboling he does not know, is the power of our Balder Bows …”

  Dessi’s face grew an evil smile as he quickly caught thought and looked around, “… if we position the ships to lend flank support, but hatches closed, anyone knowing Vedoan Naval protocol for combat will not realize many of those flaps have nothing behind. We can haul a good number of weapons to the towers and be prepared for defense. A few men could hold off a good number of offenders.”

  Jha’Ley was grim-faced, “Exactly, my good sergeant.”

  Seedle brought up a point, “Sir, do you think we are being watched?”

  “I do not think we are being watched at this time, but I think we have been. I am speculating the initial exploration was seen, it is best to assume the ships were seen, as well. I think Old Uncle was preparing for winter and had already put the Cat inside. After the team left, I think he cast off for some other place in fear of discovery. Signs of supply were found, with signs of hastened transfer to a craft already inside.

  “I fully believe he knows this place much better than we, and he is sufficiently experienced at survival, which means he has other locations to hide. He is an older man, but still spry.” Jha’Ley looked to them with a knowing eye, “When he is set, I believe he will have us under watch. How, I do not know, but he is resourceful. He may well have some magical means at his disposal.”

  Seedle grinned mischievously, “Which still does not explain our reserved meeting, sir.”

  “If it all goes south, I have a backup plan, and it involves the three of you, together.”

  Dessi’s face became grim, “We are not going to like this, are we sir?”

  Jha’Ley’s expression became one of resolute, but ironic humor, “No, Sergeant Dessi, you are not.”

  The tone went from dangerously interesting to deadly serious, “I have a special mission which revolves around the three of you …” then he looked squarely at Seedle, “… and you, sir, are hereby being placed as mission commander.”

  The cob closed his eyes and ground his teeth. Suddenly he knew what was coming, he knew because he knew his commodore and how he worked. There were no jokes that could come to his mind and he bent his shoulders as if taking on the weight of the entire crew. He opened his eyes and looked straight into Jha’Ley’s gaze.

  In a moment’s wordless communication, Seedle knew Jha’Ley knew that he knew and understood. With pursed lips, Seedle gave a reluctant nod. Jha’Ley nodded back.

  Dessi looked from one to the other as he, too, understood; then exclaimed with hushed breath, “Damn, damn it to Hades.”

  Chapter 58

  THE COTTAGE ALBRI rented was actually an old bunkhouse furnished with eight bunk-beds, a big fireplace at one end, a cooking stove with a work-counter on the other end, one long table in the middle and several split chairs. On the back side was a door to a smaller storage room, itself with a door to the outside. This room was filled with wood, a side of meat, a barrel of corn meal and so on.

  The fire was bright and hot; Mahrufael was at stove, bringing the pot of tea to table to refill first Albri’s mug, then Feila’s. She flashed him a warm smile, “Thank you, Mahrufael. I really liked the way you cleaned the dishes with a wave of your hand.”

  The elf passed her a wink and smile, “My pleasure ma-dahm.”

  Gordi was still eating from his bowl of thick stew. In an offhand manner he said, “Don’t get too mannerly, it’ll go to her head and she’ll have you moppin’ the floor.”

  Klaus leaned back and held hand over his mug, indicating he was contented, at least for the moment. Leaning on forearms and nursing a tankard was a big redheaded fellow named Skirret. He was giving Albri his undivided attention.

  Gesturing outward with his hand, Albri finished his tale and said with resignation, “… so there you have it, my concern at hand.”

  Gordi tilted his bowl and scraped the last of the gravy within as he shook his head, “That shits about Banea.” Pausing, he gravely put glance to Albri, “Not putting your boy aside, he comes first of course, but Banea needs to be avenged. Those damned elves---”

  Feila casually raised a finger in Gordi’s direction, whereupon he cut off his words as if with a knife, yet her gaze was upon Albri, “I am still not sure of the urgency. Jann Raul has not arrived at port, but it is only a year …” her look was of one seeking clarity, not giving argument, “… expeditions of this sort often come upon unexpected conditions. Your description makes him sound most adaptable and level-headed. Is it not possible he has only been detained, not lost?”

  Albri spoke with hesitant calculation, “Yes, it is, but if you knew my boy …”

  Klaus spoke, “My fore-sight dreams are not frequent, and they have always been consistent. I am concerned.”

  Gordi finished his bowl and pushed it to the center as Mahrufael sat down to table, nursing his own mug of tea. Gripping his tankard, he looked from under his tussled hair and asked, “What is he doing up here in the first place? I thought ya’ll put that Dorian’s Purse thing to rest?”

  Albri grinned with irony, “As far as I am concerned, we had … but … he became fascinated since Liam came to roost and began telling stories. He wants to finish the old quest.”

  “I never liked that son-of-a-bitch, he always … arg-g-gh …”

  Albri gave his old friend the narrow eye of scrutiny, “I thought you said you never met him.”

  Gordi drank deep and long, then sat his tankard down and wiped his mouth, “I didn’t. Do I have to? You told me enough about him and other tales as well. Nothing about him I like, or liked. Didn’t you say he was dead?”

  “As far as I know …”

  “That whole region of sea to the north, that’s Captain Choe’s old sailin’ ground. It isn’t very hospitable. Went they sunk his ship they say it still rises up and moves upon the water as a ghost ship.”

  Mahrufael asked, “Ghost ship?”

  Gordi wiggled the fingers of his left ha
nd in the air, “Oh yeah-h, do-DAH-DO-do, do-DAH-DO-do … do you scare easily?”

  Mahrufael returned the man’s taunt with a wry grin. He had heard much about Gordi from Logan and Albri.

  Feila remarked, “Do not let Gordi stir your ire. He sleeps with what he calls a teddy-bear.”

  Without missing a beat Gordi looked to Feila, “That’s because you won’t sleep with me.”

  Feila rolled her eyes upward.

  Feila’s son, Ju’Balii, walked in the door and spoke with haste, “Mother, the Qua’Korr is making port even now.”

  Everyone started getting up. Gordi looked to his friend, “Hey, mate, Albri … we’ll find him,” with a firm nod of his head and wink he added, “you can count on it.”

  Albri replied, “You are, and always have been, a good friend … and an ass.”

  As they walked out the door Gordi put his hand on Albri’s shoulder and said, “Don’t you ever forget it.”

  ___________________________

  As Jha’Ley left the top of the gatehouse, the three lingered and watched him walk away as a man to purpose. When he had stepped down stairs out of view, Seedle looked emphatically to his mates and swore, then declared, “Why would he levy such position upon me? I am neither officer,” looking to Dessi, “nor combat-trained Marine.”

  He flustered, “By hair-of-the-lizard! I would to find this uncle and split him open, then feed him to the sharks.”

  Caroll’s lip grew the slightest evidence of a knowing smile, “It is for such reason you have been given to choice.”

  Seedle exasperated, “What? Because I would cut the man?”

  “For your passion to purpose.”

  “Huh?!”

  Dessi was somber and matter-of-fact, “No … he is right.”

  Seedle looked from one to the other incredulously, “I do not get the meaning?”

  Dessi responded, “I do not think anyone could question my loyalty to Commodore Jha’Ley, as an officer or as a man. But I am cut and dry, black and white, my decisions would likely be based on bias, for better or worse. Caroll, here, is seasoned in his skills beyond most of us here, but he too would be prone to certain bias, but in different directions.”