‘Where do you reckon we shall find food?’ Coinin said changing the subject.
‘We shall have to find the galley.’ Aniol looked around and spotted a shipmate to ask. ‘Let’s ask that man over there.’
They walked across the decking with care to avoid icy patches that had formed. The air was frigid, and clouds of breath preceded them. Icicles hung from the rigging. Snow lay heavily across every horizontal surface that had not been kept clear by the deckhands, the crystals sparkling in the morning sun. Up above, the furled sails looked almost frozen in place, and Coinin could just make out the head of someone in the crows nest. He shivered at the thought of spending all day up there.
Tucked deep in the belly of the ship, a small yet functional galley catered for the crew. The cook looked very red faced and stressed at having to feed so many more mouths. He swore and cursed as he prepared breakfast. It smelled delicious and homely. Coinin was tempted to ask what it was, but one look through the galley door, and he received such a glare from the cook that he backed away.
Lacretia met them outside of the galley. ‘Don’t mind him,’ she said. ‘He’s always like that. Since his food is so good we put up with him.’
Lacretia led them to a room just off the galley and invited them to sit at a table. ‘Have either of you sailed the southern oceans before?’ she asked.
Both Aniol and Coinin shook their heads.
‘It’s an eye opener for many, terrifying for others. Though I can assure you, the likelihood of losing your breakfast in the rough seas is inevitable. One thing is certain; you will gain your sea legs on our trip.’
‘Do you think it will be that bad?’ Aniol asked.
‘I have travelled those seas with Captain Menin on several occasions. It’s not for the faint hearted. To answer your question, yes, it will be bad,’ Lacretia replied.
A bell tolled somewhere above them, and a lot of noise ensued. Many pairs of heavy boots clomped across the deck and stomped down the stairs. A minute later, a dozen crew entered the small room and took their seats.
Lacretia stood. ‘Has anyone bothered to inform our guests that grub is up?’
A dozen blank faces looked back at her, and she sighed. She pointed at a tall, thin man dressed in brown leather. ‘Skryne, invite our guests to come sample cook’s food.’
Skryne stood to cheers and wolf whistles. Coinin heard someone call ‘Captain’s beloved.’ Skyrne glared at his shipmates and left the room.
The cook opened a wooden flap in a wall opposite the tables and began to hand out pewter plates full of food. There was fish, unleavened bread and a thick porridge-like substance. Coinin tried this and found it too salty to his taste so content himself to eating the fish and bread. Jericho and the others arrived shortly thereafter and replaced the crew who had quickly eaten their fill and left to tend to their duties. Coinin washed his breakfast down with wine and sat back satisfied.
‘Captain on deck,’ Lacretia called and chuckled, as no crew remained to stand in respect.
Hur’al poked his head in the room. ‘Glad to see Cook has fed you well. However, if you want to get this ship moving, I suggest we meet up top as soon as possible,’ he said.
❖
Hur’al was waiting for them patiently on the quarterdeck and greeted them individually. ‘Axl, how does your contraption work?’
Axl was in his element and overcame his shyness to explain how the ice breaker would benefit them. ‘In order to break up the ice surrounding the ship, we need to align the feet of the frame with the sides of the ship and attach the weight with rope to the pulley system. We will wind up the iron weight, and gravity will permit it to drop and crack the ice, enough to hopefully release us from its grasp.’
‘Very good; you shall oversee my men who will assist you to get my ship out of this trap,’ Hur’al ordered. ‘The rest of you can help get it ready for the journey.’
Axl spent the rest of the day supervising the ice breaker’s progress. It was near two in the afternoon by the time they had completed the first task of raising and dropping the iron weight. They had to move quickly onto stage two before the ice refroze. Several thickset deckhands lugged the frame across the deck and lowered it over the side of the ship. It was manhandled to the bow, and the men systematically created a path for the ship to follow. The second half of the task was quicker, thanks to the openness of the ice, and a large channel had been cut just as the first darkness started to creep over the land.
Axl and the crew left the ice breaker where it was and headed back aboard. An unusual whistling sound preceded a loud crump, and an explosion of hot oil and fire erupted just behind them. A moment later a second explosion sent fire and ice into the air beside them, and a crewman was sucked under the ice with a scream.
Hur’al raced to the side of the ship and looked for the source of the explosions. He raised a spyglass to his eye, and after a moment he spotted a series of lights upon the high cliff and the distinct outline of wooden counterweights designed to throw heavy object great distances, in this case flaming pots of burning oil that would fracture on impact. They were aiming for the ship and had not zeroed in just yet. Hantestum, he thought. It has to be.
Hur’al raced from one end of the deck to the other, screaming orders. Sails were unfurled, rigging lines tightened, and oars were deployed port and starboard. There was just enough sea around the ship for the oars to be efficient, and the laborious effort to get her moving was making Hur’al nervous. ‘Come on, pull harder,’ he yelled.
Groans and grunts intermixed with the whistling sounds of Hantestum’s projectiles. Hur’al was sweating. At any moment, one of those things would strike, and all would be lost.
The ship at last finally began to make headway, and a tired Axl scrambled aboard to collapse in a heap alongside his temporary crew.
Hur’al assisted him to his feet. ‘Well done, Axl, let’s hope this hasn’t all been for nothing.’
Axl prayed silently and joined Aniol who stood a few feet away. She wrapped a sheepskin around him and held him close.
Coinin shook his hand as he passed and congratulated him on his success before stepping up to Hur’al. ‘Is there anything we can do?’
Before Hur’al could answer, a flaming pot impacted with the poop deck and sent flames shooting into the air. Two helmsmen were unfortunate enough to be in the vicinity and were engulfed in the fireball. The screams of agony were unbearable, but thankfully their pain silenced quickly. Though, now, the ship was on fire.
‘Help put the flames out!’ Hur’al yelled. He and every free hand raced to port and starboard and collected wooden buckets attached to long ropes. They dropped the buckets into the icy waters and quickly winched them back on board. They hurried to the poop deck and threw the contents over the flames. With a hiss, the flames doused momentarily only to flare up more ferociously than before.
‘It's oil, Captain, there’s no hope,’ Lacretia yelled over the roar of flames.
Hur’al dropped his bucket in a fury. ‘I guess Hantestum won after all.’
‘Not necessarily,’ said Coinin. ‘Remember what I did to that Orc in Rostha?’
The sides of Hur’al’s mouth curled upwards. He dared hope that Coinin could succeed.
‘Are you sure you can do this?’ asked Aniol.
‘I have no idea. Archmage Menin seems to think I’m ready, so I’m going to try,’ Coinin replied and took a deep breath in anticipation.
He strode over to the steps leading up to the poop deck and knelt, the heat of the flames prevented him venturing further. He had to work quickly; the flames were already in danger of catching fire to the sails above.
Placing his hands on the icy deck, he closed his eyes and pictured his desired outcome. A localised wind kicked up and swept his hair about him. His brow began to sweat at his efforts to produce the magic needed. He had planned to extinguish the flames by freezing the woodwork, though sadly things were not quite going to plan. The wind grew stronger and fanned the
flames, but also caught the sails. They billowed, and the ship lurched into life. She was finally underway proper, though if Coinin could not control these flames, there would be no ship left to sail.
Coinin opened his eyes. ‘Is there anyone else on board with magic?’ he yelled.
‘I have some ability,’ Quindil said and raced forward. ‘What do you need?’
‘Hold my hand and help me channel the magic. Picture the flames retreating.’
Quindil immediately did as instructed, having first changed position so that Coinin could grasp his remaining hand. Together they closed their eyes, and while Quindil focused on the flames dying, Coinin concentrated on freezing the area.
Amid whistles of further projectiles and the sound of wind and flames, a cracking sound emitted from underneath them both. As planned, a stream of ice snaked its way up the steps and covered the poop deck and helm. At just the right moment Coinin yelled to Quindil. ‘Now!’
Quindil pictured the flames extinguished, and in a split second, they were. The ice cut off the oxygen that fuelled the fire.
Coinin and Quindil dropped to the floor exhausted with the effort, and a round of applause erupted at their efforts.
Hur’al hurried forward to inspect the damage while Aniol joined Coinin’s side. She helped him up and led him away. Jericho clapped a hand of congratulations and relief onto Quindil’s shoulder. ‘Well done, Major. Now, let’s get you below decks for some rest.’
Quindil muttered his consent and permitted Jericho to assist him away from the crowd of onlookers.
Hur’al surveyed the damage and sighed with relief; the oil had burnt off before catching fire to the wood, so the damage was limited to a small enough area that the ship’s carpenter would have it repaired in no time. He tested the ship’s wheel, and although blackened and charred, it turned to his satisfaction.
They were now out of the danger zone and making good headway. The open sea lay just ahead, and with it, relative safety on their long journey to the island.
THE BLACK TOWER REVISITED
After months at sea, the first pink rays of light spread across the sky on the distant horizon, signalling the fast approaching dawn. Beautiful as it looked, it provided minimal light. The ship cut through the waves with ease, a stiff southerly wind favouring them as they made record time to their destination. Axl had plotted the assumed course of Jericho’s dragon, and they were nearing the coordinates.
‘Land ho!’ A cry went out from the crow’s nest.
Lacretia cupped her hands together and shouted up to the crewman. ‘What do you see?’
‘The light is poor, but it looks like a small island and a tower. We need to head South-West by two degrees,’ came the reply.
Hur’al clapped Axl hard on his back and congratulated him. ‘Well done Axl; you amaze me. How you found this place in such a vast ocean, I’ll never know.’
Axl beamed, correcting the course on his map, and Hur’al whistled, gesturing for Jericho to join him.
Jericho hastened to the quarterdeck. Raising the proffered spyglass to his eye, he focused on the small island and set his jaw. ‘There’s no mistaking it; that’s the tower all right.’ He paused for a moment. ‘We need to be ready for any resistance. If you’ll excuse me, I need to talk to my men.’
‘Let me know if you need anything.’
‘A new brain wouldn’t go amiss, Jericho laughed. ‘I must be crazy to do this.’
‘I’ve been saying that all along,’ Hur’al chuckled to himself.
Jericho darted across the deck and dashed down the stairwell to below decks. He made all haste to locate his troops and soon found them. A handful looked decidedly fed up or ill with the motion of the ship. A few passed the time playing cards while others slept.
Lieutenant Lifor spotted him first and jumped to attention. ‘General, what is it?’
Each soldier that had heard her cry immediately joined her at attention and stood stiffly awaiting orders.
‘Lieutenant, have the men upstairs in three minutes, battle ready. We’re nearing the island,’ said Jericho breathlessly.
‘About time!’
Jericho looked to his left, and unable to locate the source of the voice, smiled at his men.
‘Yes, Sir,’ Reena saluted happily and turned to face the troops. ‘Well, you heard the man, move it!’ she hollered with as much force as she could muster.
Quindil, who had slept through the entire exchange, woke to see the General disappear and sleepily asked what was happening. Reena apprised her superior, and he immediately took charge, issuing orders and ensuring the men were suitably attired in battle gear.
Not two minutes later, the troops filed out of the stairwell and lined up on deck to await instructions.
Jericho paced in front of them, smiling to himself at the efficiency of his officers. These active men and women subjected to the monotony of the sea, and with nothing to do than get in the way of the ship's crew or stare out at nothingness for hours on end, had been driven almost stir crazy. Now, dressed in their steel armour and with cloaks flapping in the breeze, there was excitement tinged with apprehension in the air.
Coinin and Aniol exited the Captain’s quarters where they spent most of their time strategizing and joined Jericho on deck.
‘This is it. This is the moment we have waited for; the time we take the fight to Lordich Secracar and show him that we are a force to be reckoned with. Follow the orders of your Major and Lieutenant and keep your heads down. We are dealing with wizards here, novices at best, but wizards nonetheless. Do not underestimate Lordich; he is a most powerful man indeed. Now, make your final checks and be ready to move out on my order.’
Each soldier saluted with a clash of steel on steel.
Jericho turned to Coinin. ‘Please follow me; I wish to discuss strategy.’
Coinin deferred to the older man’s knowledge and experience, and with Aniol at his side, he dutifully followed. Back inside the Captain’s cabin, he plonked himself down on the Captain’s chair behind a solid oak table.
The cabin was a world apart from the bunks below decks. Garish in its opulence, it exuded Hur’al’s taste. Brightly coloured paintings of ships he had captained adorned the walls. Velvet drapes hung from a grand window that faced aft, and although it held many lights, it let in little illumination, so the room was dim. A comfortable bed occupied one corner of the chamber and Coinin gazed at it longingly. It looked far more enticing than his hammock below decks.
Jericho unfurled a map Axl had drawn for him. It was a layout of the island inked from their discussions, and both men pored over it to study it. Jericho had drawn a battle plan upon it in charcoal, with arrows and numbered entry points indicating his intended targets.
‘Several men led by Quindil will begin the attack from this direction.’ Jericho pointed towards the outline of the tower from the West. ‘They will scale the tower, eliminating any enemy on the way. Meanwhile, I will lead an assault to the main meeting hall, and Lieutenant Lifor will make haste to the dungeons via a portal here. Hur’al’s men will take control of the dragon stables. We are stretched thin, though we will succeed, or die in the attempt.’
Coinin’s heart froze at the word dragon. He was probably going to meet one face to face, and the thought of it chilled his heart.
‘You make no mention of the Curator and me?’ Aniol noted.
‘With very good reason. Forgive me Curator, but you have much to learn in the field of battle, and I believe you will learn more if you observe,’ Jericho replied.
Deep down Coinin knew he meant that he would most likely end up as dragon food. That did not appeal, yet neither did staying behind.
‘Is there nothing I can do? You can’t expect me to sit idly by,’ Coinin told him.
‘There is one thing you can do. Sail the ship away if we are defeated and return to the temple. This whole thing is lost without you.’
‘I don’t know how to pilot a ship,’ Coinin objected, though inside he secr
etly thanked Jericho for letting him off so easily.
‘Everyone has to learn sometime, and now is your time. You’re the fallback plan.’
‘Three people to man a ship this large? You had better come back in one piece, General.’
‘I’ll try.’ Jericho winked. ‘And there’ll be five of you; Draken and the cook will stay behind.’
Coinin gave Jericho a tired look. ‘I hope this works. I don’t want to have to tell Laliala that I lost her finest General.’
Jericho attempted to hide a smile at the compliment. ‘Don’t worry; I’ve been in tougher scrapes. Well, I should brief the men. Care to join me?’ He stood and rolled up his map.
‘After you,’ Coinin gestured.
On deck, all able-bodied crew and soldiers had gathered and occupied the space forward of the main mast.
‘I don’t have to tell you that they’ll be expecting us and will offer resistance. Now, they are for the most part novice wizards, and yet there may be a few powerful mages amongst them, including Lordich Secracar. Not to mention the dragons. When it comes to those beasts, take out the rider, and the dragon will flee.’ Jericho paced in agitation. He was eager to get things moving. ‘I also don’t need to tell you that it has been an honour to fight alongside you, and if we don’t return then our comfort is in the knowledge that we did our best. I thank each and every one of you for your unwavering dedication to the cause, and may the peace of the gods go with you. Those who wish to pray, you have a few minutes before we drop anchor and take the boats to the island. Are there any questions?’
‘Are we to kill Lordich whatshisname?’ Lacretia asked.
‘If that is the will of the gods, then yes, but I’d rather take him alive.’
‘That will no doubt prove to be difficult,’ Hur’al said.
‘In all honesty, yes it will. He’s a born killer, trained by the finest, his skills honed to protect the temple. Don’t underestimate this man. If you must, strike first and ask questions later.’
The Aduramis Chronicles: Volumes 1-3: The Definitive Collection Page 54