The Dragon Writers Collection

by DragonWritersCollective

  Nat took the lead and scrambled up the rocks to look over the edge. He scanned the water, pulled a piece of polished metal from his robe, and signaled wildly. Sounds of pursuit grew closer, and Nat searched the water desperately. Then Irvil grabbed him and spun him to the right. A bright signal, not far east of where they stood, was coming from small boats secluded under the shadow of the cliff. Elated, Nat rushed east along the cliffs. Catrin still feared the soldiers would catch them, and Vertook and Irvil stayed as far from the edge as they could.

  Suddenly soldiers emerged from the trees, and Catrin saw one of them nock an arrow. Nat ran to a large rock that jutted out over the water. Catrin and Vertook rushed to join him. When they looked down at the small boats below, the height terrified Catrin, and she turned to retreat. Before she could take a step, however, Irvil cried out and rushed toward the approaching soldiers. He held his ground against a man wielding a sword, but Catrin saw the archer draw and loose his arrow in one smooth motion. She knew where it would strike even as the archer's fingertips slid from the bowstring. Tears filled her eyes as she turned back to the cliff. Vertook stood at her side, looking grim and determined. As one, they prepared to meet their deaths, but as they turned to make their final stand, Nat spoke softly.

  "I'm very sorry to have to do this," he said, and Catrin knew what was about to happen as she felt his hand on the small of her back. She screamed as he pushed her over the edge.

  * * *

  Dust and the smell of blood choked Strom as he pulled himself from under the horse that had given its life to save his. Luck had been with him, and he was uninjured. The same could not be said for Malluke, who was under the horse, dead. As Strom stood, his head spun, and the world around him was a blur. After a moment of shock, he recalled the danger and took a sword from the nearby body of a soldier. Before he could even test his swing, a shadowy rider materialized within a cloud of dust and bore down on him with speed.

  Stepping back and bracing himself, Strom prepared to take a desperate swing, but then he saw it was Chase. Leaning down from his saddle, Chase reached out and grabbed Strom as he passed, barely slowing. Strom grabbed on and leaped up in the saddle behind Chase, and he was glad to see that Chase had stolen a Zjhon horse. At least it had a bridle and reins.

  "Where are the others?" Strom shouted.

  "I don't know. Let's go find them," Chase replied as he drove their mount to greater speed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  There is no greater act of faith than to put your life in the hands of a stranger.

  --Guntar Berga, soldier

  * * *

  The wind buffeted Catrin about mercilessly as she fell after Nat pushed her off the cliff. The air was sucked from her lungs, and she was unable to control her limbs. She flailed wildly to right herself then tucked herself into a ball, preparing to absorb the impact.

  The waves rushed toward her with impossible speed, and she struck the water feet first. The impact forced the last of the air from her lungs, and her momentum drove her far beneath the waves. Terrified, she fought to reach the distant surface. Hampered by her clothing, she didn't think she would make it. Her lungs burned for air, and only willpower kept her from parting her lips to inhale water.

  Above her, light reflected off the surface, dancing, taunting her, just out of reach. Her body demanded breath, and she gulped, repulsed by the salty taste and burning in her throat. Her body went into spasm and thrashed with little effect. Something hard struck her, but she barely felt it. Darkness was settling on her as rough hands yanked her from the water.

  When the darkness faded, she found herself in the belly of a small boat. A man was beating on her chest and blowing air into her lungs with his mouth. Her body convulsed, and he turned her onto her side so she could empty her lungs and stomach. The small boat tossed violently, compounding her disorientation.

  As she tried to right herself, the men in the boat continued to row vigorously. Her stomach betrayed her again, and she clung to the gunwale, feeling sea spray on her face. The wind was cold, and noticing her shivering, one of the men draped a blanket across her back. She wrapped herself tightly, but still she shivered violently and her teeth chattered.

  As she regained control of herself, she saw there were four men huddled in the small craft, rowing as if their lives depended on it. Several other boats floated nearby, and they all struggled against the current. The men were oddly garbed and had darkly tanned skin. Catrin had never seen men adorn themselves with jewelry, but these wore rings on their fingers and some had earrings. She had seen tattoos, but none like the complex patterns that ran up one man's arms, looking like a live painting.

  None spoke, though, not even to one another, and Catrin huddled in silence, not trusting her voice to speak. Cold rock jutted from the water, looming over them, and Catrin feared the waves would batter them against the imposing cliffs. As she watched, the men turned the boat sideways to the bluffs and rowed into the shadows. As they entered the gloom, an opening materialized before them, previously hidden in the darkness. Cool, musty air barely stirred, and as they rounded a bend, they were bathed in soft torchlight. The violence of the thrashing waters subsided completely.

  Their rowing was now confined to keeping the craft in the center of a natural channel that flowed into a large cave. It was lined with jagged rock, and firelight danced on the water ahead. Around a bend floated a ship in a cavern just barely large enough to contain it. The ship didn't look quite right, and Catrin realized it was missing its mainmast.

  Above them, on a rock shelf, a fire burned and at least a dozen people milled about, but when they saw the boats return, they ran up the gangplank of the ship, tossed down lines, and secured them to large iron rings on the boat's rails. The men above used a windlass and a series of large pulleys to haul the heavy boats up to the point where they were level with the deck. It was only then she realized there were three boats in addition to her own that must have been waiting for her and her companions below the cliffs. When each boat was empty of people, they hauled it onto the deck and turned it on its side. It took a dozen men to lift the boat to the hooks where it normally hung, but they quickly secured it and dropped the lines down for the next boat.

  In relatively short order, all the men were aboard, and the boats were stowed. Catrin found Nat and was amazed to see he still held his staff. It took her longer to locate Vertook, but she eventually saw him huddled in a corner, his head cradled in his hands.

  "Are you hurt?"

  "No," he said, shaking his head slowly and slightly. "I did not know there could be so much water, or that it could be so"--he struggled for the word--"tall."

  She nodded her understanding, touched him on the shoulder, and walked back to the railing. This ship did not move as violently as the small boat had, but it still moved constantly, and Catrin found it disquieting. As she leaned on the railing, trying to move with the movement of the boat and compose herself, a young man presented himself. A skinny lad with bright red hair and freckles, he was the only sailor she had seen without a dark tan.

  "Hullo, miss, I'm Bryn. Cap'n wants to see you right away. I can take you to 'im if you'll just follow me."

  Catrin nodded and followed him to one of the doorways leading into the deckhouse. As she stepped through the hatch, she immediately felt confined and closed in. She bumped into the walls as she stumbled and had to catch herself to keep from falling. The ship's motions were subtle, but they wreaked havoc on her sense of balance.

  Bryn led her down the corridor to a door with no identifying marks. He tapped lightly, opened the door, and motioned for her to enter. The floor of the cabin was lower than the deck, and Catrin looked down as she stepped inside, a motion that proved to be a mistake. As soon as she lowered her head, dizziness overwhelmed her and her stomach heaved.

  Desperate to escape the cabin before she lost control, she shoved Bryn aside and ran headlong to the railing where she expelled the remains of her stomach contents; she didn't think there'
d be any more after her revival in the small boat, but there was. Bryn came to her side and offered her water and a towel.

  "Thank you," Catrin said after a tentative drink. "I'm sorry I pushed you."

  "Not to worry. I understand. I was sick for days when I first boarded the Slippery Eel," he said with a wink. The cool air soothed her, and she slowly began to feel better. She breathed in deeply then realized Nat and another man had joined them. When she turned toward them, both men stepped forward.

  The man next to Nat looked different from the others. His hair was light brown, and he was slight of build. His nose hooked oddly, as if it had been broken more than once. He wore no jewelry, had no tattoos, and his age was difficult to gauge, but Catrin guessed he was in his middle years. Had she been asked, she would have thought him to be a farmer or fishermen, but certainly not a pirate.

  "Lady Catrin, I'm Kenward Trell, captain of the Slippery Eel, and I welcome you aboard," he said, going to one knee. "Please accept my apologies for not recognizing your discomfort. I've brought you a bit of herb to calm your stomach, and it should also help with the headaches." The herb mixture tasted vile and nearly made her retch, but she had confidence in folk medicine and she focused on keeping it down as she waited for relief.

  "You should feel better in a little while," the captain said. "For now, we can talk where you are comfortable."

  "Thank you, Captain Trell. Your men saved our lives, and we will be forever grateful."

  "Please, Lady Catrin, call me Kenward. Captain Trell was my father's name, and I've never answered to it," he said with a grin.

  "Thank you, Kenward, and I am just Catrin."

  "I'm disappointed Benjin is not with us yet, but a man as stubborn as he is could never come to harm. I'm sure he'll be along soon," Kenward said. "Your passage fees have been paid by Miss Mariss, though I'd have done it for free had she only asked," he said, winking. "I'll only be taking you part of the way; the Eel is stout, but the journey across the Dark Sea is best made in a larger ship. I'll get you as far as the Falcon Isles, where you'll board a larger ship."

  "I've never heard of the Falcon Isles."

  "Most haven't. It's a string of little islands inhabited mostly by primitive tribes, but they also serve as trading ports and hideouts for pirates, mercenaries, and other misfits--like me." He winked again.

  "How do we know there will be a ship there for us?"

  "Have no worries. My family has a large ship at port there right now, and they are waiting for the Eel to deliver goods before they sail for the Greatland. Your passage has been arranged for on that ship. You've probably heard the folklore about pirates, but we're just free sailors who bow to no government, and we trade goods with other, like-minded groups and individuals. They call us pirates, and we use it to our advantage; it makes us seem more frightening." He chuckled. "That label helps us in many ways. We're in a tight spot now, no arguing that--the cliffs on one side and the reef on the other, not to mention the obstacles in between. We'll need half a day to reach a sizable gap in the reef, but when we're clear, we have open seas to the Falcon Isles.

  "Our biggest problem is that the Zjhon know we're trying to escape, even if they don't know for sure where we are. They've probably guessed we're within the reefs and will most likely have the gaps guarded. I doubt they'll bring tall ships inside the ring, for their drafts are much too deep. And let me tell ya that we had quite a time getting the Eel in here ourselves, but she's a sneaky wench. The Eel's faster and more maneuverable than the Zjhon ships, so we'll just have to weave our way through them.

  "The cabin past mine is reserved for you, and there are dry clothes in the chest. If your gut is still sour, feel free to sleep on the deck," he said. Their conversation had taken her mind from her upset stomach, which, now that she thought about it, was feeling much better. Her body seemed to have adjusted to the movements of the ship. Getting dry seemed like a good idea. She thanked him and excused herself. As she walked toward her quarters, Vertook approached Kenward.

  "How can such a big thing stay on top water when a man falls under?" he asked Kenward.

  "It's all about buoyancy, my friend. Let me show you . . ."

  Their voices faded as she walked past the captain's quarters to her own and stepped inside. It was just large enough to hold a hammock, chair, and a small chest. A narrow shelf was built into one wall, and on it was a small lamp, burning low.

  Catrin took off her damp clothes and sifted through the chest for something near her size. She found pants that were close enough. She had to pull the belt strings tight to keep them up, but they were comfortable, and she found a baggy shirt made of light material.

  A knock at her door interrupted her thinking about how to get into the sleeping hammock.

  "Who is it?" Catrin asked.

  "Nat," came the response.

  "Come in."

  "I'm so sorry I pushed you off the cliff, Catrin. It was the only way to save you. I wanted us to go farther east where we could have climbed down slowly. But the soldiers were too close behind us; we would have made easy targets. The bowmen would have done us all in, and I didn't want Irvil's sacrifice to be for naught. I did what I had to do, as much as I didn't want to do it," he said.

  "You really frightened me, and you terrified Vertook!"

  "I know it. Vertook is quite wroth with me, and I fear he will not be so forgiving. He hasn't spoken to me since we boarded the ship, and he has been shooting me some nasty looks. Would you explain things to him for me, please?"

  In that moment, Catrin realized Vertook, who was from a different culture, might want to take revenge to protect her as well as his honor. Although being pushed over the cliff may have been the only way to save her life, Vertook might not see it that way.

  "Certainly. I'll talk to Vertook, but right now, I'm simply exhausted and really need to sleep." Another knock came at the door, and Nat slipped out as Bryn stepped in, carrying a mug of soup.

  "Hullo again. I thought you might like something to eat," he said. "It's compliments of Grubb, our cook. He says that'll cure what ails ya."

  "You are all very kind."

  "It's still hot," he warned before she tasted it. It was a hearty broth with chunks of vegetable, and Catrin knew it was the kind of sustenance she needed.

  "Would you like me to get your clothes laundered for you?" he asked pointing to the pile of clothing she had dropped on the floor.

  "That would be kind of you. Are you sure you have the time?"

  "You're my main responsibility for most of this trip," he said. "Cap'n wants me to make sure you're comfortable and that you have everything you need."

  She watched him as he folded her dirty clothes over his arm and backed out of the cabin door.

  "G'night, miss. If you need anything, be sure to holler out. There's always someone on watch. Right now, you'd best get some sleep. Tomorrow'll be a long day," he said as he closed the door.

  Their journey would begin at first light, and Catrin was too exhausted to stay awake and worry, but her dreams were visions of blood and fire.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Stars are the souls of old sailors. They plot the skies and guide the wayward home.

  --Aerestes, Captain of the Landfinder

  * * *

  Dawn found the Slippery Eel deserving of her name. The crew scrambled, and the passengers huddled in the deckhouse, trying to stay out of the way. Maneuvering the ship with incredible skill, the crew prepared to guide the Eel through the cavern entrance, which was just barely wide enough for the ship to pass, and wood occasionally strained against rock. Using oars and poles, they worked in concert to guide the ship around the many obstacles, but some were unavoidable, and the ship listed and jerked underfoot.

  "Have no worries; the Eel can withstand those little bumps and a lot more. We've taken no damage," Kenward assured them as they rounded the last bend, the horizon beyond. Waves battered the coastline; swirling vortices formed around unseen rock formations, and Catr
in feared they would be crushed on the rocks. Kenward barked orders, and the crew responded with alacrity, but the men seemed stretched to their limits, and there was frenzied activity on the weather deck.

  The ship rolled and turned sharply as they cleared the entrance, caught in a dangerous current, and the waves drove the ship dangerously close to the rocks. Kenward orchestrated the movements of his crew decisively with instincts born of many years.

  As the Eel glided into deeper water, there was an audible, collective sigh of relief, but the mood and tension on the ship did not lighten completely. There were still obstacles in the narrow channel, and they could not afford to take damage.

  Sailors began their practiced routine of unlashing long sections of mast from racks along the deckhouse, while others retrieved massive iron sleeves. They used rope, pulleys, and a windlass to raise the broad bottom section into place and guided it into a huge iron ring amidships. It slid nearly half of its length into the hull. Once the base was settled in its mounting hardware, the crew secured it with spikes, iron bars, and threaded bolts of Kenward's design.

  The crew continued to raise sections of the mast, joining them with the sleeves. When the sails and rigging were assembled and ready to be raised, Bryn climbed the bowsprit to attach several lines, and Catrin admired his bravery. Before long, the ship was moving under a small amount of sail.

  With her homeland sliding by, Catrin's thoughts turned to all those she had lost and left behind. Tears filled her eyes as she thought of her father and Benjin. Equally distressing were worries over the safety of Chase, Strom, and Osbourne, her faithful companions. They had stayed by her side and risked their lives for her, and now she was abandoning them. Unable to bear the pain, she wiped her tears and concentrated on what lay ahead.