My Father's Swords (Warriors, Heroes, and Demons Book 1)

by Dave Skinner

  Manda watched from where she lay. Two ships at the head of the line were lost from sight, and two more joined at the far end. Finally she slipped down to join the two men. She had remained at the top to think as much as to watch. Her mind was groggy, her eyes gritty, and her exhaustion was like a physical weight on her. It had taken her a long time to realize the full implications of what she was seeing.

  “They intend to attack Waysley. It is the only answer that fits. My father awaits me there. I have to warn him.”

  “Even if we follow as soon as the last one passes, we are still behind them. We cannot reach Waysley first,” Tyhan stated.

  “Could we not take a different route?” Ran asked. “What about the other side of the island, the side we used to get here?”

  “The windward side of Pointer,” Tyhan exclaimed. “Too dangerous at the speed we would need. We would have to be almost on the rocks in order to catch enough wind.”

  “But it is the only way,” Manda announced. Decision made, she rattled off orders. “Tyhan, get the ship ready and floated. I need sleep. Wake me when we are ready to leave. Ran, you stay here and keep watch. Let us know as soon as the last ship is past.”

  “I will need to change position in order to make sure all stragglers are gone.” He turned to Tyhan. “I will signal from this side of the opening to this cove. Look for me there.”

  Manda was back at the ship preparing to climb to the deck when she realized she still wore Ran’s cloak.

  ***

  Manda tried to sleep, but the preparations underway to float the ship kept her aware. Eventually the noise faded away, and she floated into a state of semi-consciousness. Memories of her father and mother bobbed around her.

  The death of her mother many years before had almost destroyed her father. He had taken to drink, made bad decisions, and had lost a number of cargos. They had been deeply in debt by the time she left school, at fourteen years, and joined his crew. With the help of a few loyal sailors who had been with her father since before his … problems, she had learned the ways of the trade and mastered them. After a few years her father had lost his love of the drink. This had a lot to do with the concoction she had gotten from a wizard in Gore and slipped into his grog every night. It had taken many months, but eventually he became a man again, and together they had sailed his ship the Seahawk out of debt and into prosperity.

  Four years ago they had contracted to have another ship constructed by a renowned builder in Gore. Three years ago, Manda had taken the Red Witch on her maiden voyage. Ships built in Gore were legendary for the craftsmanship they displayed. She considered her ship the best of the best. Manda met her father regularly in different ports to review business she told him, but she admitted, to herself only, that she worried about him falling back into drink. He had only ever loved two women in his life, her mother and the Seahawk. Losing one had almost destroyed him. Losing the other surely would.

  The call to awake came far too soon. She splashed water on her face and made her way to the deck. The Witch was bobbing freely while the oarsmen held her in place.

  “We are ready, as soon as Ran sets us loose,” Tyhan told her as she took over the wheel.

  Manda saw Ran sprinting along the sand heading for the rope that held them to the shore. As soon as he untied it the ship started moving towards the mouth of the inlet. Ran sprang forward across the beach, dove into the water and with a strong stroke closed on the ship. She lost sight of him, but shortly he pulled himself over the railing. Manda turned her full attention to exiting the cove.

  The oarsmen were pulling strongly as the Witch entered open water. She steered them portward as they struggled around the jut of rocks that gave Pointer Island its name. They turned into the wind. Sails were impossible at this time. She heard Tyhan yelling at the rowers to put their backs into it. She noticed that Ran was back at an oar.

  They inched forward fighting the wind until she was sure they were far enough away from the rocks to make the turn down the windward shore. Tyhan had the sail positioned to accept the wind. The red canvas came hissing down as they made the turn. It caught the wind and she felt the ship respond and try to keel over. She fought the movement. For a short time they trimmed the sails until she found a balance spot where the wind did most of the work, and then they were sailing, sailing to save her father and the people of Waysley.

  ***

  Ran pulled his oar in and tied it off as did the others. He stood, stretched, and jumped up out of the ditch where the oarsmen sat. The ditches were waist deep areas on both sides of the main deck where the rowers’ benches were located. They captured water that came in through the oar ports in rough weather and sluiced it away.

  Standing on the deck, Ran tasted the freshness of the water infused air and felt the wind that was moving the ship. His leathers were still damp from his swim. They felt cool on his skin, and made him think of retrieving his cloak. The captain had taken it with her earlier when she left to ready the ship, probably an oversight on her part. She had much to occupy her mind at that moment, and he could tell she had been tired. He wondered if she had managed to sleep. He admired her. She was a strong, competent woman, but even the strongest need rest. His searching eyes located her up on the wheel deck. His cloak was thrown across the high bench behind the wheel, a railing that the helmsman could lean against.

  Ran made his way up the slopping deck to the starboard side and then aft to the wheel deck. He stopped at the stairs. The captain had been watching him approach. She signalled him to continue.

  “Stiff breeze,” he observed when he reached her. “I thought to grab my cloak.”

  “Yes, certainly, sorry I made off with it.”

  “I am glad you did, otherwise it too would be wet,” Ran replied as he slipped it over his shoulders. He could see the strain in her arms as she held the wheel. “Is it hard to handle the ship in a wind like this?”

  Her eyes were scanning between the sail, the horizon, and the rocky shore. They included him for a brief moment before continuing the circuit. “It takes strength, but more than that, it requires a sense of balance. Would you like to try?”

  “Yes, I would!”

  “Then stand behind me and take hold of the wheel.”

  Ran slipped between Manda and the bench, trying not to impose on her space. He knew he was a large man, and that he intimidated some people when he was too close. He used the knowledge to advantage when needed, but this was not such an occasion. Truth be told, he felt slightly intimidated and stimulated by her closeness and her smell. He had not felt stimulated for some time.

  “Do you have knowledge of sailing, Ran?”

  “Nothing worth mentioning.”

  “Then I will give you a lesson. It will help to pass the time and to keep me awake. When you are on the windward side, the wind is always trying to blow you towards the shore. We position the sail to catch the wind in the forward section but allow it to escape towards the stern. This causes the ship to lean in the direction of the blow. You notice that many of the crew and your friends are on the side of the ship that is raised out of the water because of the wind’s efforts. That is one means of balancing the force exerted on the sails. The other way, the most important way, is with the rudder. We steer slightly away from the shore, enough to compensate for the wind, but not enough to lose the force in the sail. It is a dance in which the wind and the ship are partners. The steersman’s job is to keep them balanced. I will release my hold so that you can feel what I mean.”

  Ran felt the strain build in his arms and shoulders as the ship tried to maintain a forward direction against the force of the wind.

  “You have to watch the wind in the sail, as well as the shore, and your direction. Watch what happens when we steer too far away from shore.” She reached out and moved the wheel a small bit. The ship lost momentum slightly as the sail started to luff.

  “See if you can get the wind back.”

  Ran allowed
the bow to swing back towards the shore. The sail rippled, cracked, and filled again, then they were swinging towards the shore. He over corrected and lost the wind. Manda remained silent while he struggled to regain the momentum she had achieved. After a few more attempts he got the feel of it. The ship picked up speed again and held it.

  “I can feel it,” he stated with pleasure.

  “I can tell. You can lean back against the railing. That is what it is there for.” She watched the sail and the ship’s direction. After some time she continued. “Yes, you seem to have a good feel for it. Now, if you don’t mind I am going to lean back against you, and let you steer for a time. I need more rest.”

  His legs were bent slightly from squatting on the railing. She moved closer and hiked herself up onto his left thigh. He stretched his arms out and leaned back to give her more of a seat like support. As she snuggled in, he felt her shiver. He sensed her fatigue. Slowly removing his left hand from the wheel, while testing to make sure he could steer with just the right, he used his left to wrap his cloak around her and tuck it in tightly. He regained his two-handed grip.

  “Can you feel it, Ran? Can you feel the balance?” Manda asked quietly.

  “Yes,” he answered, and he could. The wind played a flirty game that required constant adjustment, but he realized he could feel the sweet-point through his arms. That point of balance that gained the most in speed. Manda coxed him, a little more here, a little more there, until the port rail was skimming the water while the starboard rail was kissing the sky. Ran felt an exhilaration he realized he had been missing.

  Something had been wrong since he had caused the death of his friends. This was the closest to healing he had felt since that day. Perhaps it was the sailing, or perhaps it was the woman resting in his arms.

  * * *

  Bray made his way across the deck towards Mearisdeana as she held to the starboard railing. “Are you okay,” he asked? “You look sad. Is being on the water still bothering you?”

  “I am fine, but you are correct, there is sadness in me. I am much better with water since I swam with Manda. It is not as much of a worry, and now that I am more at ease with it, I can appreciate what is around me. Your world is truly a marvelous place, Bray. I wish Adamtay could see it. I wish he was here with me. I miss him. I miss my family. Will I ever see any of them again?” The last was said with a hitch in her voice.

  “You will, I am sure,” Bray said as he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. “I know nothing of magic, but Waycan was confident that the Wizard of Waysley could help us. I trust Waycan. You should also.”

  The feel of arms encircling her gave her a sense of belonging that she had missed sorely. She let her head fall forward onto his chest. If only this was Adamtay holding her.

  “I miss him so much, Bray,” she confessed. Suddenly an intense sense of wrongness flooded through her. What would Adamtay think if he saw her now, being held by another man. She stepped back and pushed Bray away. She felt uncomfortable. It must have shown on her face.

  “I was only trying to make you feel better,” he stated.

  “I know, Bray. It is just a feeling that I cannot explain.” She sunk down with her back against the railing. Bray sat beside her, but not too close.

  Chapter 49

  Adamtay held to Nailmoe as the charger they both rode trudged through the gates to his home. Guards immediately sprang to give aid. He lowered Nailmoe into the arms of two men, almost falling from his mount in the process. He could not recall ever being this tired.

  They had ridden without a significant stop for days. He could not remember exactly how many. Grain for the chargers and pack animal had given out three or four days ago. They had abandoned the pack animal then, hoping to allow faster travel, but without food and rest the chargers lost strength quickly.

  Nailmoe’s charger had died under him this morning. Adamtay’s charger had carried them both since then, although not quickly.

  “Should we call a healer, My Lord?” one of the guards asked. Adamtay recognized the man, but could not recall his name.

  “No, he is not injured, only exhausted. Put him in the closest bed and let him sleep. My charger needs more care. Have the stable master attend to him personally. He has had nothing to drink since morning yesterday.” Adamtay turned away but then turned back. “Make sure the room you put Nailmoe in is empty of female company,” he commanded as he pulled the bag of crystals from the beast’s saddle.

  “Yes, My Lord,” the guard replied with a smile. Everyone was aware of Nailmoe’s reputation.

  Adamtay was almost at the door to the castle when it burst open. His father rushed out. Moments later his uncle followed. Between them they supported him to the family’s quarters where his mother was waiting. He placed the Sword of Sacrifice on the table along with the bag of crystals, drank a large glass of juice, sat on a couch and passed out.

  ***

  “Are we ready?” Adamtay asked as he walked through the doorway to his uncle’s workroom.

  “Almost, and good morning to you, my impatient nephew.”

  “Sorry, Uncle. Good morning. Are they ready?”

  Three of the crystals were arranged at the corners of a triangular design that had been drawn in red on the floor. Adamtay did not ask what had been used to scribe the lines. He remembered the crystals worked with blood and light.

  “They are, but we wait on the sun, something even I cannot influence. Are you rested?”

  “Yes, I have been resting for three days now. If I rest anymore, I will burst.”

  “Patience, my son,” his father advised as he entered the workshop. “If this test works, the excursion to return Mearisdeana will commence in a few days. Have you chosen those who will accompany you?”

  Adamtay gave his father a hug. “Nailmoe and I have been through the list of volunteers. We have selected two so far. He is selecting the others today.”

  “You trust him to make such an important decision?” his uncle asked.

  “I trust Nailmoe with my life, Uncle.”

  “I hope it does not come to that.” The court wizard loved to have the last word. “I believe you should take your place. The sun is about to crest the sill,” he announced, looking at the high window of the workshop.

  A drape was covering the window, so Adamtay could not see outside, but he trusted his uncle’s knowledge of his own workspace. He stepped into the triangular design on the floor, careful not to smudge a line.

  “I have calibrated my spell to the frequency of Mearisdeana’s necklace. You should arrive at a spot within a short spear’s throw of her position. I will maintain the connection to you through the rift until this time piece has run out.” He held up a small timing glass filled with red sand. “As soon as this runs out you will be pulled back. It is time. Are you ready?”

  “Yes.”

  Adamtay watched as his uncle pricked his finger tip and placed a small drop of blood on each crystal. He spoke words from a language Adamtay did not understand, then moving quickly to a rope attached to the drape on the window, he pulled it, allowing sunlight to flood Adamtay and the design. For a moment Adamtay felt the hot sunlight on his dayskin before he was enveloped in an intense cold.

  A pinpoint of light appeared ahead of him. He fell quickly towards it. The pinpoint grew larger until Adamtay rocketed through the opening and found he was floating—no falling—slowly. The intense cold was gone. A sun shone in a clear blue sky, a sun not nearly as warm as the one he knew. Below him was a large carriage with an expanse of red fabric attached to a tall mast. The fabric appeared to be causing the craft to lean dangerously to one side as it sped across a greenish-blue surface that seemed to undulate around and below it.

  As he floated lower, Adamtay saw people crowded on the raised side of the vehicle. One stood out for him. His heart soared as he made out Mearisdeana. She was standing by herself although an individual was making his way towards her. She turned to him
as he arrived. After a small time the person, a man Adamtay could now make out, put his arms around Mearisdeana and held her until she suddenly pushed him away. When Adamtay reached the undulating surface he lost sight of Mearisdeana, as she and the man lowered themselves to the surface of the craft.

  Adamtay was furious. How dare that man touch her? He tried to move towards them only to realize he was knee deep into the undulating surface, and still sinking. In moments he lost sight of the carriage and everything else as liquid covered his face. It invaded his mouth as he tried to scream. He flailed about trying to climb back to the air then suddenly the intense cold was back. He was on his hands and knees gagging and retching. He collapsed. His last thought was of the wizard holding Mearisdeana in his arms and her having to push him away. His anger burned as hot as KaAn’s sun.

  Chapter 50

  The Waysley harbour was full of ships when the Red Witch sailed into it. The sail dropped and the oars came out as Manda chose an open berth at the dock. She noticed her father’s ship, the Seahawk, sitting at anchor in the harbour coupled to the Black Bell, Black Barb’s ship.

  Barb had been throwing herself at Manda’s father for a couple of years now. As far as Manda knew coupling her ship to his was the only coupling that had occurred although she would not blame Coran for accepting Barb’s advances. She was an attractive woman and a fine captain. Manda liked her. Both ships flew flags that indicated their captains were not aboard. Probably at the Striped Unicorn, the inn her father preferred to do his business and his socializing at.

  As soon as they had docked, she left Tyhan with instructions to secure the ship and to unload the perishables as quickly as possible. She rushed off to warn her father and the authorities of what she suspected was about to happen.

  The Unicorn was crowded, but her father was at his usual table with Barb seated beside him. Coran rose as she came towards him. She gave him a quick embrace.