by Alan Black
The priests, magicians, and wizards of each order gathered their power from natural sources, teaching their acolytes age-old techniques.
Tanden was not a magician, priest, or acolyte of any color. He had been tested as a child, as a teen, and even as an adult in the Allexian science schools. He was as devoid of magical ability as a man can be and still have a beating heart. He had come to believe that a man must make his own way or die trying. Using magic was an easy way out.
Though he had no love for any magical order, he especially disliked the blue order. He believed they perverted their magic with a multitude of pagan rituals to lure converts to their ranks. They enticed pagans with little regard or belief in magic, regardless of color, to follow the Blue Wizard’s sometimes bizarre commands, paying bribes for magical favors, and paying for the right to be magically transported to the next life upon death.
Each order of magic—blue, green, and red—scoffed at the others, claiming their magic was the true source of power and any other was—somehow—less clean. None but a few heretics still believed in the old white magic. Ancient myths said the white magicians were able to draw magic from any movement regardless of what generated the movement, as slight as the swishing of bare hands through the still air.
King Krebbem’s conversion to the red order slightly disrupted the balance of power. When Warwall withdrew his magicians, priests, and army from Stantinstadt, Krebbem withdrew his conversion to the red, proclaiming that the citizens of Holden could believe whatever their hearts led them to believe. Warwall and Emperor Monstantong, the polical face for Tunston’s Blue Wizard, barely tolerated Krebbem’s reaction. Both threatened military action unless Krebbem converted to their order.
Balance came to the region only after King Krebbem, in his wisdom, converted to green magic, proclaiming green magic as the official magic of the Holden Kingdom. The conversion was a brilliant stroke of statesmanship. It firmly balanced the power of the three great political empires with the three orders of magic: green, blue, and red. In truth, Krebbem continued to allow any to believe and call upon any order of magic; a position the kindom had allowed for centuries before Warwall’s capture of Stantinstadt.
Any marriage between the royal Holden house and Warwall of Drohnbad might once again shift the balance of power in favor of the red magic order. The Emperor of Tunston would most likely attempt to stop any shift of power not tilting in his direction.
Tanden thought Gregin’s ultimate goal must be to stop the upcoming marriage and alliance. Although he could do so by killing Lady il-Aldigg, it would be more profitable to sell her into slavery. Many brothels or unprincipled rich men would pay dearly for such a beauty, and she would disappear from the face of the earth, as if she was dead. The lady would already be dead if Gregin did not have some profit in mind. Greed did have its own motivational value.
Tanden spoke, “Gregin, Tuller is correct. Neither you nor Heraclius can sail this ship back to Stantinstadt with less men than the five men you have now, even with good winds. Surely, the six of us would take at least one or two of your five with us—.”
“With or without your magic, I can guarantee it,” Seenger interrupted.
“And I, too,” Gadon shouted, adding to Seenger’s promise.
A chorus of agreement rang out from Alton, Durrban, and Tuller. Obert, who was still guarding them backed up a step. Heraclius growled and knocked Tanden over with a blow to the head.
CHAPTER TWO
Tanden struggled to his knees.
“Gregin,” Tanden said, ignoring Heraclius and the thin trickle of blood he felt running down the side of his face. “I’m making an observation, not a threat. I want to live as much as the next man. Surely, the Blue Wizard wouldn’t object to the profits of this ship and cargo—profits to pay your new crew, and as an offering to the emperor. Some agreement must be reached or more men will die here today.”
He saw Heraclius’s eyes light up at the mention of profit.
Gregin answered, “My purpose will be served whether we all die or not. Do you intend to surrender?” Gregin continued, his voice overriding the shouts of “No!” from Tanden’s remaining loyal crew, “Captain, I will accept your word of honor for you and all of your crew. Surrender now and serve this ship until we reach Tunston. I will turn you over to the mercy of the Blue Wizard, a most noble and generous man. I have no wish to send any of these unclaimed men to hell.”
Heraclius scoffed, “You’ll take the word of a Holdenite? Everyone knows they change sides at a whim. What of Seenger? He’s nothing but a filthy ogre. Everyone knows they have no honor. And Durrban? He’s a green acolyte, nothing more than a blue order rejector. He should die on principle.”
Gregin replied, “Yes, the word of this Holdenite. I know Tanden is a man who doesn’t break his promises. These others will obey his command. Isn’t that why we didn’t approach each of them? I will kill here if I have to, Heraclius, but if blood isn’t on our hands then we need not carry the guilt to our masters. Your place is set in the afterlife. You’ll be carried there by the power of the blue, but don’t continue to contradict me or your eternal seat will not be so assured.”
Obert spoke for the first time, “Uh, Gregin, I, uh, Master Gregin, I uh, I wouldn’t mind a little profit to last me through my old age.”
“Yeah!” Tuba shouted. “Or a Tunston brothel, whichever comes first.”
Tanden said, “Gregin, I can’t serve you and I won’t sail this ship to Tunston, however, it is a two-hour sail to the western shore of the Black Sea. We’re near the land of the Hummdhars, who hate all who aren’t their own, especially the men of Holden. If they don’t kill us, the Coodhars will, or the forests, or the mountains. Ask Heraclius if he can find Stantinstadt without the coast to guide him. No? Then you must sail to the coast anyway. Put us ashore. We’ll most likely die, but your hands will be clean. You have my promise we’ll leave the boat peacefully if no more die here.”
“No!” Gadon and Seenger shouted together.
Tanden shouted back, “Be silent. Do you dare contradict me?”
Seenger replied, “No, sir, my apologies.” Any who knew Seenger understood his humbleness held no more sincerity than a thief protesting innocence to the authorities.
Tanden, still on his knees, twisted to face Gadon and said, “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Do you follow me or not?”
“Now you’re going to insult me as well as make me die at the hands of the Hummdhar? They’re barbarians who like to tie a man to two trees and split him into two parts.” Gadon smiled and looked at Tuller, “Well, my skinny little brother, Mother always said Tanden would be the death of us both with his wild ways. Of course, I follow you, Tanden.”
Tanden said, “Gregin, as a gentleman of the blue order surely you will put the lady and her woman ashore with us?”
Gregin replied, “No. They are to remain aboard with me.”
“Ha!” Greeta shouted. “Send the maid, I-Sheera with them. She’ll kill them if the Hummdhars don’t.”
Gregin said, “Tanden and these four with him will remain tied. Gadon, retake the helm. Steer us toward the shore. Tanden and all who stand with him may peaceably leave this ship if there is no more violence.”
Tanden said, “Gadon, do it! Steer the helm directly west by southwest for the best wind. Tuba and Greeta, reset the sheets.”
Both men looked to Heraclius and received a confirming nod. Neither man turned his back on Gadon nor did they rush to their ordered station at the sails. It would take the two men a long time to change the sails, much longer than the normal crew of eight. It would take even longer because Tuba and Greeta were the slowest crewmen on board. The delay would prove his point about sailing with fewer men than Gregin and Heraclius currently had and, hopefully, make them think twice about more killing.
A direct westerly track would be a slow sail into the wind blowing out of the west. Tanden knew this coast as well as he did the docks at Harkelle in Ho
lden, having sailed along its edge on a dozen voyages. This tack should place the White Wind in a wide bay. Holden’s troops had chased the hostile Hummdhar and Coodhar tribes back into the mountains west of the bay years ago. It appeared Gregin and Heraclius didn’t know the region might still be uninhabited. He and his loyal men should only have to contend with the forests and rough uncharted terrain. Being set ashore along this coast might give them an opportunity to win back all that was being stolen, if they could survive long enough to reach shore.
Tanden nodded to the crewmen Obert guarded, “Obert isn’t a harsh man and won’t keep your bonds any tighter than necessary. Gregin?” He looked to the man he had thought a common seaman, “May I inquire as to the health of the women?”
Gregin replied, “Obert, when you finish there, bring the women on deck. They’re cowering in their cabin. And Heraclius, the White Wind is yours to command. Watch Gadon carefully. Any tricks from any of you and none will leave this ship alive. It matters not to me if we all die, for with our deaths I’ll become a martyr to the blue order and assure my place in the next life.”
After Obert finished tying Seenger and Alton, he went below decks, followed by Tuba. Heraclius remained on deck with Gregin, guarding Tanden, Gadon, and the others, leaving Greeta to struggle with resetting the sails alone. Having caught the wind, the sails luffed badly becoming difficult to grab and control.
Tanden’s eyes calmly followed the two men as they dropped out of sight down the ladder to the deck below. He knew the mindset of mutinous men could make them capable of anything. To mutineers and murderers, rape was a small thing. Tied as he was, he could not protect the women. Cursing the mutineers or swearing further vengeance was futile, after all, how many times can you kill the same man? You could do it fast, or slow, or even slower still, but they would die just the same.
Tanden thought, “It’s been a reasonably pleasant voyage, until now.”
The round trip journey between Harkelle and Drohnbad was long, but reasonably uneventful. He captained the White Wind, a fast two-masted merchant craft with a crew of twelve. Their course was south from Harkelle in Holden on the Uube River to cross the Dukos Sea. They sailed between the twin cities of Kalos and Fortin on the Mery Delta. They had smooth sailing down the Black Sea, through the Oggy Strait. The final leg of the voyage was across the mighty Almodovar Ocean to the port city of Gaudet. His cargo of skins and furs from the great northern forests and the eastern mountains of the Huzzuzz ogre tribes brought excellent prices in the bazaars of Gaudet and the Red Wizard’s exchange rooms.
The negotiating skills of Gadon’s wily brother Tuller overstuffed the holds of the broad, tall ship with trade goods for the return voyage. He was forced to fill the crew’s quarters causing them to sleep on deck. Tanden even stored cargo in his own cabin. He attempted to stuff cargo into the passenger cabin, but Lady il-Aldigg threw a tantrum and demanded it be removed.
The return voyage was pleasant, except for the irrational demands made by his special Drohnbad passenger and her most irritating lady-in-waiting. Long ago, he had dismissed his first mate’s assertion about women bringing bad luck to a sailing vessel on the open seas and how they did not belong. He might not like to admit it, but before this day was done, he might have to tell First Mate Gadon that the man was right. Such an admission would please Gadon immensely.
Gadon always followed where Tanden led. True to his nature, his fat friend grumbled loud and long about making this journey to Gaudet and the overland trip to Drohnbad, the red order’s capital. Nevertheless, Tanden knew Gadon would join him when Tanden accepted the assignment from his adopted father to master the White Wind, even to swallowing the unintended insult of choosing his adopted son over his natural-born son to captain his best ship.
Tanden reveled at the opportunity for such a journey, sailing a good ship to collect and bring back the Red Wizard’s niece, Lady Yasthera il-Aldigg for marriage to Tarran, the youngest son of Krebbem. There was great profit in a cargo of spices, silks, and precious metals from the Red Empire and the Far East trade routes. Profit was important to the family business. Being connected to this politically motivated alliance, however remote the involvement, was more important than the voyage or cargo. Such a connection would bring great value to his adopted father’s household and business. For scores of years, the Holdenites kept the invading Surr tribes from the north out of the Almodovar Ocean and the Red Wizard of Drohnbad was a barrier to the far eastern hordes, keeping them from the Holden plains. This marriage would strengthen the bond between the Red Wizard and King Krebbem.
The return trip to Holden began pleasantly. The weather cooperated, the wind filled the sails, and the crew didn’t suffer from sleeping on deck. The winds were so favorable the oars remained stowed the entire voyage. If the winds had not cooperated, making headway using the oars would have been backbreaking work. The ship was too overloaded with cargo and extra passengers.
The only sand in the ointment was Lady il-Aldigg. Unlike Gadon’s good-natured jibes, the Red Wizard’s niece delivered complaints with the nasty edge of threats. She demanded changes in everything. She challenged everyone aboard. She complained about the wind blowing in the wrong direction and the breeze not refreshing her cabin sufficiently. She demanded the ship only sail so the wind blew directly into her cabin’s porthole.
Much to Tanden’s distress, Lady il-Aldigg didn’t deliver her complaints to him personally. It she had, he could have taken refuge in her beauty while she incessantly whined about not stopping in a port of call each night to stay in a decent inn. Yasthera il-Aldigg was plump and full-figured as a young woman should be with dark lush hair and pale ivory skin.
I-Sheera, her traveling companion and lady-in-waiting, delivered all complaints. I-Sheera’s irritating whine came from a sun-weathered, labor-hardened, skin and bones body. She was a mid-twenties spinster wrapped in ill-kept robes. Her dark scraggly hair flew about in complete disorder in the constant sea wind. Even Gadon admitted I-Sheera’s pretty eyes complemented her full lips, however, nothing helped offset the size of her hooked nose with wide nostrils that flared like a wild saurus. The giant lizards, wingless four-footed dragons from the northern steppes domesticated as carry beasts were noted for their ugly noses and short stubby tails.
Nostrils flaring, her wild-eyed tantrums brought gales of laughter every time she stomped her foot and demanded the sailors bathe or stay down wind of Lady il-Aldigg. Tanden and the rest of his crew found I-Sheera occasionally humorous. Bathing? Who ever heard of such a thing!
Tanden was barely thankful for I-Sheera’s presence. A woman alone without a companion would have been trouble indeed. Even with two bodyguards and the lady’s elderly male escort, the women were always underfoot. The lady never went among the crew without both a male and female attendant.
The White Wind sailed past Stantinstadt into the Black Sea without stopping, heading north toward home. For three days they sailed north by northwest to take advantage of the continuing westerly winds. The ship sailed off the western shore, near land the Coodhar and Hummdhar tribes constantly disputed with the Holden Kingdom, but they sailed beyond the sight of land, only catching glimpses now and again as reference points along their course.
Tanden asked, “What of the Lady’s male escort and her bodyguards?”
Gregin flicked his eyes to the sea. The slight raise of one eyebrow showed how little concern he had for killing the three men.
A screech from below startled everyone on deck.
Tanden’s head snapped around to the hatch opening, but from his angle, he was unable to see anything. A loud guffaw closely followed the screech. Heraclius’s echoing laugh brought Tanden’s attention back to the deck. Even from this distance, Tanden could see Gadon’s knuckles turn white against the tiller.
A second throaty yell caused Gregin to move to the open hatchway, “Stop that and come up on deck.”
Obert popped up through the hatch. Pushing him hard from behind, Tuba propelled him up
the passageway ladder. Obert held one hand wrapped in a bloody rag.
“She cut me,” he yelped. “That red harpy, I-Sheera has a kitchen knife and she cut me.”
Tuba laughed, “Twice. She cut him twice. He was too slow to get out of the way and she cut him twice.”
Obert wandered around showing the cuts to anyone who would look. “She’s a harpy. That’s what she is. Look. I’m going to bleed to death. That harpy has killed me.” Looking at the cuts, the men could readily see Obert was in no danger of dying, much to the regret of half the men on deck.
Gregin asked calmly, “And the lady and her woman?”
Tuba answered, “Her majesty and Obert’s harpy will be up directly. I-Sheera said we could try to drag them up, but we’d go home to our wives without our testicles. I may not have a wife, but I for one, am willing to let them come up when they’re ready to come up.”
Tanden doubted anyone would disagree. The top deck was tense enough without adding a pampered lady and a knife-wielding harpy to it.
CHAPTER THREE
The White Wind wallowed slowly to the southwest facing into the westerly winds. She slipped two leagues to port for each league forward. The slight southerly tack was what allowed them any headway.