by Scott Toney
Onward to Havilah
A damp wind curled through the air as she stood at the docks, watching Cush’s makeshift army loading into a dozen ships that would head to Havilah. Lilya sighed. Am I making the right choice by not going with them and in confronting Thomas on my own?
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Cypress strode in her direction from the largest vessel, The Nave. It was a massive oak ship that had been a part of her father’s small fleet when he ruled. Cypress and Juniper were both wearing thick armor from Westwood Castle’s armory.
“It is something I have to do. I have to give Thomas this last chance. The fruit has changed him. Maybe he can be changed back.” She took Cypress’s massive hand and shook it firmly. “Be safe. Our enemy won’t be easily beaten if I can’t convince Thomas to surrender. If he is inconvincible, then Alexander and I will join you.”
“Be leery of Carn,” Cypress warned as he stepped back. “I’m not sure we can trust him. I wish I could go with you instead, but I am needed to direct our people.”
“I will be,” she assured him as several knights walked past her in full metal armor and a boy with leather armor struggled to keep up as he hauled a brown sack over his shoulder.
“I wish you well!” Cypress shouted to her over the bustle of people loading into the ships, as he walked away. “I love him like a son! I wish it had not come to this! Something must be done to stop him, though!”
A chill ran through Lilya’s body and then a warm hand rested on her shoulder.
“I think you’re doing the right thing,” Amari spoke from behind her. She had convinced him to stay behind with Clare and he had come with her to see the ships off as they headed toward Assyria. “Don’t get me wrong, for what Thomas did to Clare he deserves a painful death. But I don’t wish the loss of more lives to achieve that. Thomas will pay for his sins no matter what happens here.”
Strength grew in Lilya as she watched Cypress and Juniper raising the plank to their vessel and hauling the anchor up from the river. Vast white sails were raised and let fly above the ships. Soon I’ll leave with Alexander, she thought. Soon the true test will begin.
҉
Jonah kneeled on the deck of The Nave, his leather armor braced tightly to him and a sword sheathed at his side. The other men and women of their makeshift army were waving to their families on the bank as the boats pulled away in the Pishon River’s strong current. He scanned the crowd that had gathered and his eyes found Lilya. How could she not join them? Didn’t she know having the dragon by their side could decide their victory or defeat?
He chewed a strong root in his back teeth and tasted its pungent juices running down his throat. Revenge, he was consumed by it. Thomas will pay for what he did to our family. I promised. He will pay.
Jonah stood, touched the dew-speckled rail and stared, stone-faced, as The Nave sailed away from Cush’s docks. The people of Cush, who remained behind, disappeared in an outcropping of trees, out of sight.
A boy beside him wept into his hands. “Mother…” the boy sobbed.
Jonah walked away from him, toward the front of the vessel and sat on a bench. He didn’t have time for the worried emotions of the young man. It wasn’t that he didn’t care. He just knew listening to the boy’s sobs would only remind him of his own family, and he didn’t want that to distract him from his purpose.
He unsheathed his sword, took a stone from his pocket and struck it against its blade. Again and again he rubbed and struck the sharpening stone against his sword. He was determined to have the blade sharp enough to pierce the best made armor before they reached Havilah.
They sailed for hours as the sun rose overhead and Jonah stayed on the upper deck. The sunlight warmed and seared his exposed skin.
As they neared Assyria, Jonah saw shimmering spires rising high above the trees. They were majestic, more beautiful than any structure he had seen in Havilah or Cush. Carvings seemed to run down their sides. “Amazing,” he said as The Nave turned with the river and Assyria’s main city was fully exposed. The Nave’s sails puffed with wind above him.
Assyria’s docks teemed with life as two dozen large ships were loaded with goods and men. These vessels were painted with vibrant colors and flew Assyria’s golden flag. Large men climbed the ships’ riggings and the knights that boarded their decks wore armor that seemed to possess a heavenly aura as the sun glinted off of it.
Surely these would prove to be great allies.
“Guide the ships into Assyria’s docks!” Juniper called from behind him to the men working the riggings and the man at the helm. He called not only to their vessel but to the large and small ships around them. “We’ll lay anchor and await our allies’ readiness.”
Jonah re-sheathed his sword and went to the riggings to help the crew with their work.
Soon they were anchored in Assyria’s harbor, awaiting word of their departure on the Tigress River for Havilah.
҉
As a vibrant pink sun set in the sky, Assyria’s massive fleet joined Cush’s makeshift fleet in its journey toward Havilah. The winds whipped through their sails, thrusting the vessels into a hard rock as they moved through the darkness of night. The river was lit by cool starlight spreading about like a frost.
Some men slept beneath the shelters the boats provided. Others were awake in anticipation of what was to come.
Jonah was one of these. He listened intently to the wind and to the frogs croaking on the bank. What will happen in Havilah? he thought as the boat lurched beneath him. Will I survive to see Thomas’s death? He clenched the cold steel of his sword and felt a pain sear through his chest. He had been experiencing pains since leaving Cush and was sure they were because of the anxiousness he felt.
A bird sang in the reeds along the bank and another one sang back in response.
Jonah stood completely still. Birds shouldn’t be out this time of night, he thought, ducking just as an arrow whizzed by above him and struck into the ship’s cabin wall. “Archer’s on the riverbank!” he shouted to whoever would listen.
The man beside him was suddenly pierced with an arrow through the neck and tumbled overboard. Splash!
Others were struck and cried out in pain as the boat’s archers hefted their bows and attempted to pick off the ambushers in the woods along the riverbank.
In the moonlight Jonah could barely make out a group of men huddled with their bows in an area of dense vegetation. They lit flames to the tips of their arrows. “Over there!” he pointed as one of their archers came beside him and let an arrow fly. It hit one of the men in the chest and the attacker fell beneath the foliage. Fire burst up around where he had fallen.
“There are men over here!” another voice called out from the front of the ship as flaming arrows struck down from the darkness above.
Two struck the deck and the fire was quickly stomped out. Another struck a man in the foot and the people around him worked to douse the flame.
“They’re aiming for the sails!” a voice called from the crow’s nest.
Juniper stepped up from the darkness beside Jonah. “Any men and women, who don’t have bows, grab buckets and fill them with water! We can’t let them burn our sails!” Their archers still knocked arrows at the riverbank, forcing their attackers to move and stalling them from releasing as many arrows. “Grab a bucket, boy.” Juniper placed his large hand on Jonah’s shoulder. “Use it to pull up water from the river.”
Jonah ducked as he ran for The Nave’s shelter and grabbed a bucket with rope tied to its handles. As he ran back out toward the ship’s rail an arrow zipped by above his head and he ducked lower on impulse. He tossed the bucket over the boat’s side and kneeled, using the rail as protection.
Rope burned his hands as he allowed the bucket to fly to the water. Splash! It collided with the surface and Jonah felt the bucket get heavy as it filled. He hoisted it up and stood. As arrows lit with flame struck The Nave Jonah hefted the bucket over the rail.
“They’
ve hit the sails!” a woman shouted as flame curled about the bottom of their largest sail.
Jonah quickly ran toward the woman as she threw water from her bucket on the climbing fire. Water sloshed over his bucket onto his hand as he tossed his own. The fire smoldered and was almost extinguished. “We need more water!” he shouted as a man in full armor except a helmet tossed water from his bucket onto the flame. Smoke curled where the fire had been.
The attack lasted for hours as The Nave’s archers launched their arrows at the enemy and burning arrows rained down on them. It only stopped because they were able to sail out of the enemy archers’ range.
As Jonah helped douse the last fire on the deck, by pouring water from a freshly retrieved bucket, he felt exhaustion come over him. Surprisingly few of their people had been killed, but their arrows were severely depleted and they were weary with fatigue.
“Rest,” Cypress told them. “Tomorrow we will reach Havilah. We will all need our strength.”
Jonah’s muscles ached as he found a corner in The Nave’s shelter and closed his eyes. He kept one hand on the hilt of his sword and slowly succumbed to the darkness of sleep.
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