“Quit your pouting,” said Azad with a cruel laugh. “Ye are lucky to be alive. Captain Rozad is a merciful man. I’d have your pirate head on a platter if I was captain.”
Hanna watched the pirate captain. The man looked like he was thinking that losing his head might be better than being humiliated. She smiled. She felt no mercy for pirates.
After tying the pirate’s hands together, Azad turned to Hanna. “Ye want to do the honors?”
Hanna grinned and handed Azad her glaive. She then climbed the main pole of the pirate ship until she was at the top. She pulled out her eagle’s claw blades and jumped onto the mainsail. The sharp blades cut the sail as Hanna slid down the sail ripping it neatly in half until she dropped back down onto the deck. She grinned at Azad. “That never grows old,” she said cheekily, winking at the tied-up captain. Hanna then retrieved her glaive from Azad’s callused hands and jumped back onto the Lady of the Evening. The crew pulled the grappling hooks loose and let the crippled pirate ship float away. It would take the pirates a while to get out of their restraints, and even longer to repair the mainsail. Hanna knew they couldn’t just replace it because she’d seen members of the boarding crew steal the spare.
Hanna rejoined Koyo Tomar, who was grinning. “Two more for the mighty Koyo.”
Hanna looked around the empty deck, which had already been cleared of pirates. “What are you talking about? I don’t see any bodies.” She took the leather thong from her hair and shook her hair loose again.
“Bah,” said Koyo. “Don’t think you crazy fools who jump onto pirate ships are the only ones who do anything important. The true heroes of the ship are the brave souls who stay and destroy all who try to board us.”
Hanna chuckled. Koyo liked to be the hero of every battle, every story for that matter. But it mattered not. They’d survived the pirate attack. She knew not everyone had. Tonight, the crew would drink to the lives of the warriors who’d died in the brief battle. Creytan warriors did not mourn the dead. They celebrated the lives and victories of those who would no longer be fighting at their side. The gods were blessed to be gaining Creytan warriors.
Azad joined Hanna and Koyo. “Baltan wine and silks. Robbing pirates is almost as profitable as sailing to Prozia. We’ll crack open a dozen bottles tonight, but it is still a very good score,” said Azad while glancing down at Hanna’s arm. “You should clean that wound.”
Hanna’s eyebrow furrowed. What wound? She looked down at her arm. Sometime during the battle she’d been sliced across the arm. An arrow? Hanna couldn’t even remember when it had happened, and she was still too filled with adrenaline to feel anything. “Yikes. Mother won’t be happy about that.”
“I still don’t know how you convinced your mother to let you sail with us after your father died. He would never have let you be part of those damn boarding parties,” said Koyo.
Hanna shot her old friend an icy stare. “I am a deckhand on a respectable merchant ship. Nothing could be safer.”
“And I’m the King of Creyta,” said Koyo.
Azad laughed. “Rowena Mirzan knows her daughter is a warrior. Rowena grew up with a sword in her hand. She might not like to hear about Hanna’s crazy exploits, but she is no fool. However, for our sake perhaps it’s best if we forget the details about Hanna being among the boarding party.”
Hanna stuck her tongue out at Koyo.
Koyo laughed. “Gods alive, you are Merdem Mirzan’s daughter! Crazy as a three-legged fox, and just as cheeky as he was. Okay, ye little deckhand. Get below and get that wound cleaned up.”
Hanna smiled and went to get her wound cleaned.
2
Attack in the Mountains
Katla watched as the old man made his way down the well-traveled path on the back of his horse. He rode side by side with a traveling companion, a much younger man, who looked like less of a threat than his older companion. Their mounts were short and sturdy, well suited to making the high mountain pass trek to Ayrith, the mountain valley village. Both men led a packhorse laden down with food and supplies, and, Katla suspected, somewhere among the packs would be a sampling of ayrithstone. Mining of the rare and powerful gemstone happened nearby and was the reason for the men making the trek from Irontide to Ayrith.
She’d been waiting for the men to reach the point on the mountain path where she had lain hidden for some time. When they’d almost reached the tree she was hiding behind, Katla stepped out from behind it, startling the mounts of both men.
“That was a foolish thing to do,” Thorodd said angrily after he had his horse back under control. He was a large man, built like most other northern men, tall and strong. He may have been advancing in age, but Katla knew that he would still have plenty of strength and skill with the sword. “What game are you playing at, young miss?”
“I am playing no games, old man,” she answered with an innocent looking smile on her face. She slowly blinked her large, lavender eyes at him and brushed her long white-blonde braid back over her shoulder. Katla knew her diminutive size and extraordinary exotic beauty caused her enemies to underestimate her, much to their detriment. Were Thorodd to slide off his horse and stand before her, the top of her head wouldn’t even reach under his chin. She used this mistaken assumption to her advantage, surprising her enemies with her speed and agility.
“Do you know who this is?” asked the younger man. He continued without waiting for her answer. “This is Thorodd Stoneblood of Irontide; you should speak to him with respect.” He drew his horse closer to her and looked down at her with disdain on his face.
Katla looked up at the man, not intimidated by the fuzzy muzzle of the horse that was thrust into her face. She met the man’s eyes and held his gaze in her strange lavender eyes without blinking. She allowed herself a small smile when he finally looked away in embarrassed discomfort. “Yes, I know very well who this man is, thank you. I’ve been waiting for you to pass this way for some time,” she said and then turned her eyes to Thorodd. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to make it, old man.”
Katla enjoyed the look of confusion that passed between the two men.
“Again, young miss, I demand to know what game you are playing at,” Thorodd said, a look of irritation on his face. The younger man looked toward the trees where she’d been hiding, undoubtedly trying to see if she had any companions lying in wait.
“I told you, I play no game. I am here on the behalf of my employer to convince you that you need to abandon your trade deal with the Nordviks.” Out of the corner of her eye Katla saw the younger man start in surprise, but Thorodd himself showed no outward sign of shock. She knew that the trade deal Thorodd Stoneblood had been working so hard to secure with the Nordvik family was being conducted in secret.
Nordvik-mined ayrithstone was of the highest quality and an exclusive trade deal with them would mean great financial rewards for Thorodd. He didn’t want his competitors catching wind of his business dealings. Katla didn’t blame the old man for playing dumb. The less people who knew his business, the safer he was. The problem was that her employer had found out. Now it no longer mattered what Thorodd Stoneblood said. His safety could no longer be protected.
“If you will kindly move aside, we will be on our way,” said Thorodd. “I won’t be discussing my business with you, now or ever.”
Katla shook her head. “I thought you might say that.” Before either man could move, Katla reached behind her back and grabbed her pair of dirks. She jumped up and stabbed Thorodd in the chest and as she landed back on the ground she turned and threw the second dirk into the young man. The blade sunk deep into his side.
The young man’s horse jumped and bolted past Katla down the road. The young man slumped over but managed to stay in the saddle. Katla ignored him. The blade had been poisoned. It didn’t matter how far the young man rode. Even if he made it to the nearby village he wouldn’t live to see morning. Katla turned her attention back to Thorodd Stoneblood. The great northern warrior sa
t stoically looking down at the wound in his chest.
“Who sent you?” asked Thorodd.
Katla admired the way Thorodd was handling his own death. The man wasn’t crying or begging for mercy. He didn’t bother to try killing her. He knew his time was done and simply wanted to know who was behind it. Katla almost felt bad for having killed the proud warrior. In his prime he would’ve been a worthy opponent. “I’m sorry. I can’t answer that.”
Thorodd nodded. “I suppose it doesn’t really matter. Can I make a request of you?”
Katla raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t going to beg for mercy, was he? It would be a great disappointment if he did.
Thorodd slowly put his hand into his saddle bag. He carefully pulled a gem out. He pressed the gem against his chest. “My granddaughter, I would like her to have this one gem. The rest can go to whoever has hired you.”
Katla nodded. “All right, old man. I will grant you that one request. I will deliver the gem to her.”
“Hanna. Her name is Hanna Halfblood,” said Thorodd as he slid out of the saddle and hit the ground. He didn’t feel the collision. He was already dead when he hit the ground.
Katla pried the blood covered gem from his hands and then took the saddlebag full of ayrithstone. The death of Thorodd Stoneblood and the bag of gems was a down payment on her debt. A debt that would be paid no matter how much blood flowed to make it happen. Katla put the stone in her pocket and slipped back into the woods. Her work here was done.
3
Hanna Comes Home
As the Lady of the Evening sailed into Irontide, Hanna stood at the bow of the ship. It had been over a month since she’d last been home. She was happiest when she was at sea, but Hanna always missed her mother and grandfather when she was away. She looked forward to seeing them.
When the ship docked, Hanna leapt down onto the quay. She waited for Koyo to throw down her bag and her glaive. “Don’t go spending all your coin on the whores,” she yelled at Koyo as she grabbed her gear.
“Damn it child, can you say that any louder? I think there might’ve been a few ladies on the far side of the village that might not have heard you.”
Hanna winked and yelled, “DON’T GO SPEND—”
Koyo yelped and ducked below the railing, leaving Captain Rozad the only one standing on deck looking down at Hanna.
She laughed and waved goodbye to the captain. She then turned and headed through the village to her home. Hanna’s legs felt strange. They always did after a long stint at sea. She was so used to the motion of the sea that flat land felt wrong. Hanna wondered if the villagers of Irontide thought she was drunk. The way she walked reminded her of a drunk. Not that she cared much what the villagers thought about her. She’d long ago given up on befriending the villagers. To them she’d always be an outsider. The halfblood girl.
When Hanna got home her mother was at the door waiting for her. “Hanna, my dear. It’s good to see you.”
Hanna hugged her mother. “It is good to see you too, Mother. How have things been in the village? Is Grandfather here or off looking for new trade partners?”
“The village is the village. It never changes,” said Rowena Mirzan. “Your grandfather is away. He went north to a little village deep in the mountains. He wasn’t very forthcoming with details so it must have been something valuable. Being a mountain village, my money would be on gems or some precious metal. Gold perhaps? But he is overdue, so I suspect he will be back any day.”
Hanna smiled. Her mother wasn’t officially part of the family business. After the disappearance of Merdem, she’d wanted nothing to do with the business that reminded her so much of her missing husband. Instead she became a seamstress, making dresses and clothing. The dresses were not northern designs. They were obviously styles Rowena had seen while traveling the seas and visiting the ports of the world. Rowena’s dresses were surprisingly popular among the village ladies. They might’ve frowned upon her marrying a foreigner, but they seemed to have no problem with foreign clothing. It never failed to confound Hanna that the village was that way, but it was as her mother had said: Irontide was Irontide. It never changed.
“Come inside, Hanna, I’ve a stew cooking. You can tell me all about your trip. I see you’ve added a new scar to your collection.”
Hanna grimaced. Her mother missed nothing. “Stew sounds wonderful.” Hanna opened her sack. “I have a gift for you.” She handed her mother a tightly bound package. “Baltan silk! There is plenty more too. All sorts of colors. I just brought these for a sample.”
“Oh, how beautiful,” said Rowena as she accepted the silk. “I have several designs I’ve wanted to try that will go nicely with this.”
Hanna smiled. She’d hoped the silk would distract her mother from asking about the scar. With any luck, she’d want to know what colors the silk came in and forget all about the scar.
“How extraordinary that you found Baltan silk. I thought you were headed for Prozia this trip. I shall have to have a talk with Captain Rozad.”
Hanna’s smile disappeared. “We did go to Prozia. However, we may have been attacked by a pirate ship that was carrying Baltan silk and wine.”
“Oh, I see,” said Rowena as she stirred the stew. “I suppose you got that scar while boarding the pirate ship.”
Hanna gulped, “Pardon?”
“Hanna Halfblood, I’ve known Captain Rozad longer than you have. I know exactly how he deals with pirates trying to board his ship. I also know that your father was always one of the first aboard the ships. Let me guess, you use your glaive to clear a path for Azad to make his sprint for the enemy captain?”
Hanna looked wide-eyed at her mother. There was no way anyone from the ship had talked to her. Hanna had been one of the first off the ship.
“Don’t give me that look,” said Rowena. “You are exactly like your father; wild, crazy, and no rational fear of death. I knew you’d be joining the boarding crews eventually. No one on the Lady is any good with a glaive. It was me who taught your father how to use that damned thing in the first place. Creytan warriors prefer swords and daggers like your deadly eagle claws.”
Mother, taught Father how to use a glaive? Hanna had not known that fact. She smiled at her mother as sweetly as she could. “Perhaps you can give me some tips?”
Rowena scowled at her. “If Captain Rozad is allowing you on the boarding parties it means you are more than proficient with your weapons.” But then her facial features softened. “However, I didn’t teach your father all I knew about the glaive. So yes, I probably can give you a lesson or two. But you must promise to stop holding back information from me. I’m not fragile, nor am I blind. I can see you are too much like your father to stay behind and let your men do your fighting for you. You don’t have to pretend that you’re not a warrior.”
Hanna raised her eyebrows then gave her mother a sheepish grin and another hug. “I promise.”
“Good,” said Rowena. “Now be a dear and go to the garden and grab some parsley. This stew is almost ready.”
…
The wagon showed up in Irontide just past noon on the next day. Hanna and Rowena were working in the garden, a price Hanna had agreed to in exchange for glaive lessons, when the wagon pulled into the village. A messenger was quickly dispatched.
The messenger, a young boy named Eric, ran to Rowena’s house.
“What is it, Eric?” asked Rowena as the lad came to a halt and bent over at the hips, out of breath after the sprint from the village center.
“Wagon from the north,” panted Eric. “It contains the body of Goulven Dincuff.”
Rowena looked over at Hanna. “Dincuff was traveling with your grandfather. You’d best get down there and see what you can find out.”
Hanna nodded at her mother and followed Eric back towards the village center where the wagon was being unloaded.
The driver stood by his wagon waiting. Hanna approached him and asked, “This is your wagon?”
The man nodded
. “Yes. This is my wagon. I am Brun, from the village of Elms Grove.”
“Brun, from Elms Grove, how did you end up with the body of Goulven Dincuff in your wagon?” asked Hanna.
“Dincuff came to our village. He was with Thorodd Stoneblood. They were traveling to the valley of Ayrith. A week later, Dincuff rides into the village. They’d been attacked on the roadside. We didn’t get many details from Dincuff before he died, he was delirious. The dirk he’d been hit with had poison on it.” Brun reached into the wagon and grabbed a cotton sack. He carefully opened the sack to show the deadly dirk.
“And my grandfather? Was there any sign of Thorodd?” asked Hanna as she took the sack from Brun.
Brun shook his head. “No, I’m afraid not. But we didn’t send anyone far away from the village to look for him. We don’t have the manpower to hunt the type of people foolish enough to attack Thorodd Stoneblood. I came here instead.”
Hanna understood exactly what Brun was saying. She’d never been to Elms Grove, but from her talks with her grandfather, and his maps, she knew it was a very small village, nothing more than a group of hunters and trappers and their families. Thorodd traded with them regularly. “Where did you say my grandfather was heading?”
“The Ayrith valley. On the north side of the Ayrith mountains. There is a village there; I’m guessing he was trying to expand his trade route.”
“Thank you, Brun. We appreciate you bringing Dincuff’s body back.” Hanna put a coin in his hand. “Why don’t you go down to the tavern and have a drink on me. It is a long ride and you must be thirsty.”
Brun hesitated, “I don’t mean to be rude, but if something happened to Thorodd… our village relies on our trade with Irontide.”
Hanna Halfblood: A YA fantasy tale Page 2