Winds of Torsham (The Kohrinju Tai Saga Book 2)

by J P Nelson

  She had also made it clear I should not look for or make any commitments, I am quite sure she was sliding herself in there. In that nice sweet way that was hers, she said to me, “Do not concern yourself with love, the time for you will come, but it is not yet. Our world has need of heroes, and you are a hero. Be the hero, Komain, be the hero.”

  As she told me that, it was like she knew something, some truth I myself could not see. Hero, I liked the way she said the word. I did not see myself as such, but she made me want to be one. I really liked the way she said my name, though, it was nice.

  But she also let me know her desire for a friend, a friend who understood. Lushandri has elvin blood, and from what I gather she is alone on Kadmus Isle in that respect. And we elves have certain needs humans don’t understand or appreciate.

  There was something more, much, much more to her story I did not know. But that is for another time.

  After the engagement on the Chikried, Jha’Ley had decided to put sailing off until Ohnday, the first of the week. So Lushandri and I were to go swimming once more, but it was much more than a swim.

  As the slave ship was escorted to sea, Lushandri led me by swim to her special place in Ozzati’s Rock. There she introduced me to her catamaran, the Ahmbia and we went out for a pleasant cruise … just the two of us.

  I have no idea where we went, I didn’t care. The air was clear, waves just right, company most pleasant. We laughed, talked of nothing in particular, basically we had a holiday. And all our speech was in a blend of Elvish and Merceil Vedoic, very elegant.

  She took me to places down below I could have never dreamed of. The last time among the island rocks was fantastic, but this made me want to just stay below. It was still a challenge, my still learning to *Adapt* and all, but I figured it would come.

  The view below is hard to describe. It’s like a forest of dancing trees with more color than I ever saw in one place. Fish of all kinds were gliding around us. Once I glanced her way and almost had a panic attack. This octopus with a tentacle reach of maybe ten feet was wrapping its tentacles around her. I was about to grab my dagger when she did mind-speak and said, [It is well … all is safe … she is friend …]

  Mon’Gouchest! What a friend.

  [Come … touch … be gentle.]

  [Who … me?!]

  She laughed gently in my mind, [Yes-s-s …]

  Well … I did … and was mildly pleased. That thing put its arms, I mean tentacles, around both of us and we petted each other, if you can call it that, for a few minutes. Afterward, it left us and we intertwined arms and legs and I let her do that kiss thing with me again … you remember, from the last volume … then we danced for a long time under the water. That is all you need to know.

  As the sun went down we lounged upon the deck and enjoyed broiled fowl, an interesting preparation of rice, and Vambrolini Wine.

  We lay there, her head on my shoulders upon the deck. A perfect ending to a perfect day, but a lingering thought crept into my mind. It was really none of my business, but call it honor if you will, I needed to know where Jha’Ley fit in with regard to Lushandri. There was something there and I felt really awkward. Lushandri was not my girlfriend, or committed mate, and we had made our agreements … but what was … how … was I getting into a triangle, or something ...?

  Her voice was sweet, “What troubles you?”

  Breathing in deeply and holding it, she looked at me, her hair falling into her eyes and asked, “Please … tell me.”

  I exhaled and looked at her, into her lovely eyes and pushed the strand of hair away, “Jha’Ley … what is he to you? Is he …”

  She smiled and mused, “I believe I can trust you, Komain …”

  Leaning close, she whispered into my ear, “He is my grandson.”

  Chapter 74

  THE LOHRA LAI was a majestic and captivating sight, resting there under tie in the Foljur Harbor. I stood on the dock, one duffle on shoulder, another resting on the ground, as I took her in with the sun’s glow etching its way up the horizon behind Ozzati’s Rock.

  My first estimation of her, which I described in the first tome, was quick and based on the barracks wing I lived in for four years, which was two hundred thirty feet in length. For you who like precise measurements, her exact external LOD is two hundred forty-nine and a quarter feet. Remember, the LOD is an acronym for Length of Deck, or the actual deck length of a ship or boat you can walk on from stern to bow.

  But it’s important you follow what I said about the external size of this ship, because what you see on the outside is not what you get on the inside.

  Bear with me here.

  The beam, the measurement across the width at her widest, is fifty-two and one-half feet across … externally speaking. That is a lot of ship. But instead of three or even four masts, she has but two. If you are a person with naval or nautical knowledge, you could say she was rigged like a schooner, which means the aft mast is a bit taller than the foremast and she uses mostly triangular sails. She was, however, rigged to run square sails if need be.

  Lohri, as we called her, wasn’t built tall and bulky, but sleek, liked something you would race across the water. There was nothing like her on the sea, anywhere, that had been reported in hundreds of years. She is what would be classified as an Elvin Man’O’War.

  Follow me as I describe the ship from a layman’s perspective, not an engineer or architect of which I am neither.

  The main-deck is the long one that runs from the front, or bow, all the way to the back, the stern. The railing along the edge, often called the gunwale, pronounced gunnell, and don’t ask me why, I have no clue where a lot of these names come from, is about four feet high. I generally just call it a rail, which is common enough.

  Just behind the main-mast, approximately one third of the deck distance from the stern, that rail goes up about seven feet and makes a roofline, forming another deck called the quarter-deck. Why, again I don’t know; when it takes up more than a quarter of the deck space.

  All under the quarter-deck, on the main level, is walled off into rooms, often for the officers, with a walk-way down the middle leading to the officer’s mess and meeting room in the back. At front of the quarter-deck and on either side are ornate stairs leading to the top. Up on top, which I had not noticed on my first glance, are two ballistae which can be used as harpoon launchers, one on each side.

  Another rail surrounds the quarter-deck across front and sides. Past the ballista mounts the rail goes up again to make another roof, forming another enclosed area called the stern-castle. This is where the captain makes his quarters. Step inside the front into a small foyer and turn left to ascend stairs to the top. Turn right gives access to the rooms inside. The castle is built with artistic flair all around the back, widening to the full width of the main-deck and spanning over the back in what is called a fantail, encompassing the main and missile-decks, the berth-deck being just below the missile-deck.

  On top of the stern-castle is the poop-deck with a rail all around. The steering wheel is to the front of the poop-deck with two more of those ballistae, one either side, with a 240˚ range of fire. In this way, both weapons can fire full aft, criss-cross each other at close range, to port or starboard and forward, but not enough to touch ship-side.

  Wesney let me examine one up close when he took me on tour of the ship; amazing. Those weapons can adjust to fire one, two, three or four bolts or harpoons of varying sizes at a time, or modify to fire balls significantly more deadly and with greater range than the Balders. At one hundred rods one solid ball can break through a two foot thick hull made of oak, and their effective range with a ball had been confirmed at five hundred rods. Each weapon has a double ratchet crank and can be reloaded, adjusted for aim, then fired every forty seconds, that’s fifteen loads every ten minutes … sweet!

  There were six of these weapons on either side along the rails and a whole deck, called the missile-deck, below the main with twelve to a side enclosed behi
nd flaps. Below the stern-castle are two more flaps, one on either side of the rudder.

  When the Lohri was built and first launched, there must have been some real mean adversaries out there … because as I stood that day giving her a good study, I could think of nothing in our time who could catch her, let alone give her worry to defend against pursuers. She could reach and hold speeds of eighteen knots … as far as I knew, there wasn’t another vessel anywhere close to that kind of speed. My friend, Jude, carpenter’s mate from the Faulta Whimn, he spoke of a couple ships he knew of that could run sixteen knots. Anything that could break twelve was considered fast.

  At bow, the front portion had its own raised deck, but this one was different. The floor was laid level with the top of the rails, about a half-level high, to form the focsle. Atop the focsle was what they called the fore-deck. This one was also surrounded by rail, but on either side was one of these ballista which could swing out and cover a wide angle of fire.

  Now, so far everything looked normal, elegant and different, yes, but normal. The focsle is where things started getting strange. On either side was a stair leading to the top, as with the quarter-deck. At center was a companionway leading down to a door. Inside is the interior of the focsle … okay, no problem … only the size was off.

  If you compare external measurements of the ship with those of the focsle inside, it doesn’t match. The focsle inside is much larger than it should be. Also, there is a companionway leading down a full level. You can enter level two of the focsle … or … you can step directly into the missile-deck. Again … the measurements don’t go together. If you went down a full level, you should be halfway between the missile and berth-deck. There is an anomaly here. The problem for me is, I can feel the presence of magic, and I couldn’t feel anything like that there.

  You can go down one more level of the focsle and come out directly on the berth-deck, but that is as far as this particular structure goes. The focsle is built like a three-level unit and doesn’t have its own access below the berth-deck.

  Now here is another anomaly; everything below the main-deck is larger on the inside. In my interview with Jha’Ley, he suggested the ship was 12% bigger, but it is a touch more than that. From the inside, along the roof of the missile-deck, the Lohri is just a fraction short of two hundred ninety feet long; from hull wall to hull wall, she is sixty feet at her widest.

  The missile-deck is pretty much all devoted to missiles, except the stern which is where the medical unit is. It is where physician’s and medical staff quarters are, the infirmary, and the surgical room.

  Wesney took extra time to show me this area, since, should I accept position as physician’s mate I would spend a lot of time here. A wall across the back of the deck, called a bulkhead, had four doors, not evenly spaced apart.

  The one on the starboard-side led to the physician’s quarters, where we would be roommates. It had placement for a hammock, stand-up locker and desk on both sides. To the hull-side, which became my side, there was a nice window. In the back were more windows looking out where we had been.

  The next door over led to the surgical and medical treatment room. It was full of cabinets with all kinds of supplies, medicines and equipment. There was a door leading into the next room, which was the infirmary. If anyone was really sick needing constant care, or needed to be isolated from the rest of the crew, there was room for several hammocks in there.

  On the port-side was a room for medical staff, of which there weren’t any … yet.

  Except for its size, the missile-deck appears normal … but there are two directions of companionway. What I mean is, there are the companionways to the berth and main-decks, but there is a separate companionway to what Jha’Ley dedicated for the brig; a brig being a prison cell, or group of prison cells on a big ship.

  Guess what? This particular companionway can’t be found on the decks below. It goes somewhere, but where? There is only one way in and out, from the floor entrance on the missile-deck. It has wood walls, cells with wrought metal bars … yup, it is a real prison.

  Down into the berth-deck … this could easily be a second missile-deck, and it may have been at one time. The stern ballistae were housed here, for sure. But now-a-days it’s dedicated to the working crew; sleeping, eating, supplies, recreation, that sort of thing. Where the flaps may have been, there are windows with real, clear glass; thick and strong glass, I might add, that can be opened inward for ventilation. Except for its size, this deck appears normal too.

  Below is the spacious hold and orlop where ballast, trade goods, gear and so-called treasures might be stored. When I looked from outside on the dock the first time, I thought that this is all there was; mighty spacious decks, but I thought that was it. Not so.

  Between the berth-deck and orlop is an extra deck. There are no windows or flaps. But when you walk down the companionway from berth, you walk into a whole deck the length of the ship. Strange? Not yet? I’m getting there.

  Wesney showed me this one with pride. It was simply called G-deck. Why G-deck? I asked Captain Jha’Ley this later and he replied with a shrug and smile, “Why not?”

  With a half-raised eyebrow and roll of my chin, I thought, ‘Sure, okay … why not?’

  G-deck was divided into three primary sections. The front two sections were lined with what looked to me like big, wooden crates about three feet high and full of water and plants. Overhead, there were one foot square crystal-like things here and there in the ceiling putting out a nice, sunny light.

  Wesney looked at me with a big grin and said, “The captain calls this a hydroponics system.”

  I was lost in the shade, “A wha-a-a-at?”

  “Hy-dro-pon-ics.”

  “Okay … I heard you, but what is it,” I looked all around, “it’s all over the place?”

  My friend Wesney is a genius. He’s not just a physician, he’s a surgeon who’s actually worked on two people’s brains … not at the same time … and fixed them. If that isn’t enough, he’s also a board certified attorney in the city of N’Ville. Like I said, genius.

  Wesney likes, needs to talk with his hands. He started giving me this long drawn out explanation and I just held up my hands and said, “Whoa, buddy. You’re saying the water in these boxes make all this stuff grow?”

  He paused in mid-word, hesitated, then said, “Yes-s-s. That is a simple way of putting it.”

  I winked, “Can we keep it simple?”

  He looked at me blankly as I added, “I don’t know what half those words you’re using even mean.”

  “Oh-h-ka-a-ay …”

  What had him all excited, was the dwarf lorman trees in the forward section. A lorman is a citrus fruit which has all the benefits of a lime, lemon and an orange. They are wickedly tart, a little sweet, but he said these trees would be able to keep the full ship’s compliment of five hundred forty people healthy.

  I tilted my head forward, looked from under my eyebrows and asked, “Did you say five hundred … as in five times one hundred?”

  With a matter-of-factly show of enthusiasm he replied, “Yes. That is the number Captain Jha’Ley says he wants to start out with. He has all the positions calculated, crew, officers, ships boys, a full company of his own Marines …” He looked at me carefully, “I do not think he is excited with some of those he has recruited thus far.”

  I just looked at him, evading the military reference. I wouldn’t mind leaving all that behind, “But he hasn’t got anywhere near that number, has he? I haven’t seen them. Are they on pass?”

  “He has not acquired them all yet. He is still putting it together.”

  I noticed the forward bulkhead nestled against the bow’s seam; it was about thirteen feet across and had a door in center. Nodding to it I asked, “Let me guess, is that a broom closet?”

  Wesney walked over and opened the door and walked in. I was stunned, another anomaly; this ship was full of them. As I looked in, for just an instant I thought I saw a blurred image
of an elf turn to look at me, then fade into nothingness.

  I asked, “Did you see him?”

  Creasing his forehead, Wesney replied, “Him who?”

  I looked at him, then shook my head and closed my eyes, “No one, I’m just imagining things.”

  “The captain says he thinks there are ghosts on this ship.”

  “Great … that is comforting.”

  I changed the subject and stared into the room, “Wesney, where is this? It’s like … like stepping into a different place.”

  He was quiet and watched me as I stepped in and looked back, “This bulkhead is twenty-five feet wide …” I looked down the length of the chamber, made exactly as if an extension of the deck, “… and one hundred twenty feet long …” I walked the length to a bulkhead the exact same proportion of the one I just walked through, also with a door at center. I noticed Wesney stayed at the door.

  Halfway through the compartment was another pair of those hydroponic things, one on each side. Both were swirling with water, but empty. I smelled a whiff of pine mingled with arctic ice … I remembered the smell from when I looked over the Meinkutt Sea. The smell lasted only a moment, then I thought I heard the soft rustle of leaves. I looked around and saw nothing.

  Reaching the door at the other end, I opened it and somehow was not surprised, “… shikes, this is the bow seam of the ship …” looking down the room I said in a raised voice, “… it’s like this section was added into the middle. But Wesney, I don’t feel anything magical, and I feel magic pretty good.”

  He shrugged his shoulders and said, “Really? I was hoping you might. The captain has not decided on what to do with this one yet.”

  I walked back through looking around, but could get no reading. How was this place put in here?