Fields of Wrath

by Mickey Zucker Reichert

  Everyone considered Captain’s words in silence. Before anyone could comment, he added, “I know what you’re thinking, but it’s a bit more complicated than that. It takes time, and not just anything in the presence of magical creatures becomes skyggefrodleikr. For example, a sword freely handed to someone after its use by an immortal Renshai is surely skyggefrodleikr because of the strong connection between the Renshai and his sword as well as the sacrifice it requires for him to release it. A sword handed to you from me, even if I carried one, would not be skyggefrodleikr because I would have no use for it anyway.”

  Tae cleared his throat. “However, a piece of your ship would have skyggefrodleikr.” He pronounced the foreign word perfectly, exactly as Captain had done, and the other humans on the ship jerked their heads in his direction. Tae wondered why his ability with languages still amazed them.

  Captain also brought his attention fully to the Easterner, though for different reasons. “That sounded a bit too certain for assumption.”

  Tae explained, “When the demon destroyed your last ship, I used a hunk of the debris to whack it. That blow landed, where all of my sword strokes had failed.” He did not allow his thoughts to wander to the incident. The destruction had separated him from his friends; and, in the end, set the scene for Kevral marrying Ra-khir instead of him. The wounds he had sustained had haunted him, but none so much as the loss of the woman he had loved.

  “That’s reipfrodleikr, trace magic. Those rare items endowed with true magic, like the Swords of Power, we call sannrfrodleikr. Reipfrodleikr is a side benefit to my ‘stabilizing constructs’ ability.”

  With a grin that might pass for evil, Tae deliberately threw the words the elfin Captain had used back at him, “Hervani arwawn telis braiforn.”

  Captain’s nostrils flared, and his canted eyes opened a bit wider. “You really do have a talent with languages or, at least, remembering long names. Are you sure you’re not an elf?”

  Tae laughed. He could not imagine anyone mistaking his criminal father as anything but human. “As sure as the morning sun in a cloudless sky. I just pay close attention, especially to anything spoken, and it sticks.”

  Matrinka hefted one of the utility knives. “So why do these particular knives contain ‘shadow magic’?”

  Captain touched one but did not bother to heft it. “Elucidating magical sources is not a forte of mine, so I’d only be guessing, same as you. If they looked older, I’d guess they just picked it up by being in the presence of magical beings who relied on them for many decades.”

  Subikahn shook his head. He knew a fresh blade from an antique.

  Captain did not miss a beat. “It’s barely possible they place the same significance on these knives as Renshai do on swords.”

  Now, Tae frowned. If so, he had surely alerted them to his presence by taking them, although the suggestion seemed unlikely. A Renshai’s valued weapon never left his side, and these knives did not seemed particularly well-tended. Most showed signs of weathering, and several contained the remnants of fish guts or mud.

  Captain still continued, “It’s possible they war amongst themselves and require blades that can draw blood, or they may need the blades to hunt or protect themselves from some sort of naturally magical animal.”

  Subikahn added another thought, “Perhaps they think all their weapons need this shadow magic in order to strike at us. They may not realize they can bludgeon us to death with simple rocks and tree limbs.”

  The young warrior’s words made Matrinka cringe.

  Captain shrugged, not addressing Subikahn’s point either, the first made aloud. “But, most likely, they are surfaced with magic, either stabilized or blessed or something foreign to me, to negate the need for sharpening or merely so they can cut line in the course of their sailorly duties.” He finally dropped the last bit of rope to the deck.

  Unable to resist, Imorelda batted at the falling end like a kitten.

  Although Captain had felt every part of the rope from one end to the other, he still seemed incapable of taking his eyes from it.

  Tae addressed the unspoken question. “You can keep that line, if you have a use for it. They have plenty; I don’t think they’ll miss a bit.”

  The corners of Captain’s broad mouth twitched upward. He did not show emotion precisely as humans did, but Tae recognized it as a smile. “Thanks. I definitely can use this.” He hefted the rope again and started winding it into a delicate coil with a speed that revealed he had made the same motion untold times in the past. “I do have one other thought that just comes to me now.” He glanced around.

  That clued Tae to do the same. He had known they were moving from the moment he returned to the ship, but he only now realized they had gone far enough to leave the island and the moored ships beyond naked sight. The moon hung, waning, in the eastern sky. Midnight had clearly come and gone, yet he still had a few hours left of night, if he needed them.

  “The Kjempemagiska have crafted objects technologically beyond our own, like the lens in my box, this rope, and the construction materials they use for their dwellings.”

  Tae noticed Captain did not mention the alsona’s weapons, which had included thin metal projectiles, similar to arrows, but with built-in heads and no feathers. Somehow, they flew true and straight, often not only piercing but passing through their targets to hit another behind it. Béarn’s top fletchers were studying the curious objects, along with the bows that shot them.

  “I imagine the process they use to craft their special items requires a form of magic unique to them. Or, at least, a type elves don’t know or practice.”

  “Imagine,” Matrinka said breathlessly, but Tae stopped her with a brisk gesture. He knew exactly where she was going. The idea of trading goods with others of such knowledge and ability would appeal to anyone, but such considerations would only make their defense more difficult. These were not allies with whom they could barter. These were cold-blooded killers who wanted all humans dead.

  So far, Tae realized, he had learned more from Captain than from his own spying. He hoped the elf seekers were finding their magical neighbors and convincing them to help the cause, if only by supplying information and understanding of magic and the beings who used it. For now, Tae needed some sleep. Tomorrow night, he would begin scouting Heimstadr in earnest.

  Tae awakened to a dinner of raw fish and dried fruit, feeling strangely feral. Fires were too dangerous on shipboard even when they did not have an enemy they dared not attract, but he craved the soft texture and warmth of cooked foodstuffs. He had eaten enough fish that the mere smell of it stole his appetite, and he had to force himself to consume enough to retain his strength.

  Now, he watched the golden ball of sunlight slip over the horizon, leaving a wake of clouds tinted in shades of blue, pink, and violet. Orange-yellow streaks rose in a semicircular array from the departing sun, and the deep indigo sky began to take its place around the stars and moon. At Tae’s request, the Sea Skimmer drifted quietly in the natural pathway of all flotsam around Heimstadr. By now, the Kjempemagiska would have become accustomed to debris floating in, at the lazy pace of the current, in this particular direction. Tae intended to allow the craft to come as near to land as Captain felt was safe, then to swim the remaining distance with a complaining cat perched on his shoulders.

  Subikahn sat with his back against the forward bulkhead, methodically cleaning and sharpening blades that did not need the attention. Captain quietly handled the post-meal cleanup, not needing to steer the coasting craft. Imorelda lay curled in Tae’s lap, and Matrinka scanned the island with the Box of Far Seeing.

  Tae also kept his attention on the shore. As it gradually grew more visible, he realized they also became more conspicuous to those on Heimstadr. He considered asking Captain to toss the anchor, to swim the rest of the way to keep his companions safer, but it seemed foolish in too many ways. First, the
y would appear more suspicious moored in place while the remaining flotsam drifted toward the cove. Second, the long swim would use up much of his scouting time and energy, as well as put his own life in unnecessary danger from sharks and other creatures he did not care to contemplate. Third, he did not think he could weather Imorelda’s strenuous objections, let alone Matrinka’s. So he remained in thoughtful silence, contemplating his mission, until an odd, squeaking noise captured his attention.

  The Box of Farseeing dropped from Matrinka’s hands, and Tae dove to rescue it, even as Captain did the same. Only after he had committed to that particular movement did Tae realize Matrinka, herself, was collapsing to the deck.

  Subikahn was on his feet in an instant, sword brandished. Dumped unceremoniously from Tae’s lap, Imorelda yowled. Tae collided with Captain, sending both into an ungainly heap, and the Box of Farseeing slammed to the planking. Whatever sound it made was swallowed into the crack and shudder of Matrinka’s body striking at the same time.

  Tae freed himself from the elf and ran to Matrinka’s side, while the others scrambled to the gunwale to get a better view of the island. Tae’s first thought was that someone had shot the queen of Béarn, and he looked her over for some sign of a penetrating wound. The fletchless Kjempemagiska arrows tended to punch right through a body, leaving nothing to protrude.

  Matrinka groaned, turned her head, and looked at him. She said something Tae did not understand.

  Tae scooted to her face. “Where are you hurt?”

  Matrinka shook her head and cleared her throat. It sounded raw, as if she suffered from a sore throat and raging fever. Somehow, her mouth had gone from normal to utterly dry in an instant. “Arturo,” she croaked. She sat up, clearly uninjured. “My son is alive.”

  Tae could only blink silently. Arturo was dead, killed by alsona pirates before the war began. There was nothing ambiguous about the report of the killing. Everyone on board the Béarnian warship had been slaughtered: every sailor, every warrior, every Renshai. Most of the bodies had been recovered, with gruesome injuries from weapons or teeth. No one could have survived that tragedy. “Matrinka, what’s wrong with you? Were you shot?” Tae had little healing experience or knowledge of toxic substances, but he knew some sentient beings used poison on their weapons. Some of those poisons could cause delusions.

  Captain scurried up beside them. “Are you all right, my lady?”

  Matrinka blinked several times in rapid succession, then felt around her for something. “Arturo’s alive. I saw him.”

  Tae did not know what to say. “Prince Arturo?” He gave Captain a questioning look. “She’s seeing spirits.”

  Matrinka pushed Tae aside and rose to her feet. Spotting the cracked Box of Far-Seeking, she snatched it up and snapped it to her face. She pointed a shaky arm toward the island.

  Tae and Captain exchanged looks. Clearly, she had not sustained a physical blow, or she would not have been able to move so swiftly. They stepped to either side of her. Tae reminded, “Matrinka, we can’t see what you’re seeing.”

  Matrinka lowered the box, finally noticing the damage to the casing. Scarlet crept from her neck and along her cheeks. “Oh, Captain, I’m so sorry.” Her expression wilted; she looked about to cry. “I’ve broken it.”

  Tae tried to gain control of the situation. “Matrinka, are you trying to say you saw a living, breathing Prince Arturo through that box?” He looked at Captain as he spoke. Only the elf knew whether magic could explain the situation and whether or not it posed a significant danger.

  Captain took the box from Matrinka’s hand, holding her fingers for a moment as he did so. “It’s all right.” A human would have continued, mentioning that the object still apparently worked and rationalizing that no one could keep hold of something while he fainted, but Captain did not. Apparently, despite all his time with and study of humans, he had not wholly adopted their ways. He also did not ask after Matrinka’s welfare, something Tae knew he, himself, ought to do were he not utterly intrigued with what she might have seen.

  As he clearly would not get an answer from Captain, Tae took the box and put it to his own face. Uncertain exactly where to point it, he scanned the shoreline. Many figures still graced the stretch of sand. Most appeared to be standing and facing toward the setting sun, though they did not take a formation nor a particularly attentive stance. He saw some smaller beings that appeared to be giant children rather than alsona based on their proportionately large heads and the way they romped between the standing figures. He saw no one who could pass for a prince of Béarn.

  Tae then swept past the buildings and wild tangles of growth to settle on the outcropping housing the flotsam cove. Two figures, noticeably smaller than the hordes on the shore, capered around one another, apparently more Kjempemagiska children. He lowered the box, head shaking. “Matrinka, I don’t see him.” Again, he glanced at Captain. “I wonder if it has something to do with the magic used to carve the glass.”

  Captain tipped his head, brow furrowed. He clearly had no idea what Tae meant.

  “Over there.” Matrinka pointed impatiently, though her stabbing finger did not help to clarify the situation much. “Near the cove. There’s a giant child playing with Arturo.”

  Tae arched an eyebrow, wondering if Matrinka had gone fully insane. He put the box back to his face, pointing it toward the figures near the cove again. He saw the same two creatures dashing about as before; but, now, he also spotted a third figure, much larger than the other two, sitting on the nearby sand. “I see a giant and two others.” To Tae’s eyes, both of them could pass for Kjempemagiska younglings. “What makes you think one of them is Arturo?” He lowered the box again.

  Matrinka slowly turned her head toward Tae in the ultimate gesture of disdain. Her expression only reinforced the motion. “A mother always knows her child.”

  Tae did not understand her offense. “A father, too.” He glanced at Subikahn. “But I can’t make out enough to judge gender, let alone race. How are you seeing details?”

  “I don’t need details.” Matrinka gingerly took the box from his hands. She had now dropped it twice and seemed reticent to touch it. She put it up to her eyes. “It’s in the way he moves, the general form of him. And, now, I can even make out some features. That’s Arturo.”

  Madness. Tae did not speak his opinion out loud, though Imorelda clearly received it.

  *Water everywhere. Weeks of pitching and tossing. It could drive anyone crazy.*

  *Agreed.* Still, Tae found it difficult to wholly condemn Matrinka. He had traveled with her, admired and trusted her. She had a naïve side, even now, but her observations had always seemed sound. “Matrinka, do you think... ?” Tae was not sure how to finish what he started.

  Matrinka did not allow it anyway. “I’m not moon-mad, Tae, nor under the spell of an evil giant. I’ve watched Arturo through the years, and I know every bit of him. He’s dead, I know. There’s no question he was on the ship when it went down. The bodies of his Renshai guards were found, covered in wounds no man could survive and savaged by sharks. Unlike my youngest daughter, I’ve never harbored a shred of doubt that Arturo died with them. And yet, Halika may prove to be the wisest of all of us. For the moment, at least, Arturo is alive.”

  Tae reached for the box again, and Matrinka passed it to him carefully, watching closely to assure he held it firmly before she let it go. Tae put the box to his face again. They had drawn near enough to discern more details. The Kjempemagiska child appeared quite young, a solid head shorter than her companion. Though blond as a Northman, she lacked their pallor, more yellowish than pink. She had the oversized head and pudgy limbs of a toddler, her hands swaddled in furry mittens and a matching cap pulled over her forehead.

  Tae focused on her playmate, clearly male. Despite his size, barely taller than the toddler, he had the proportions of an adult. Unlike all of the alsona Tae had seen, every one
of them ginger, he had hair as black as Tae’s or Matrinka’s, thick and curly. If Tae had seen him on the continent and had to guess his origins, he would have said Béarnide. The third member of the trio remained seated, making it difficult to judge height, but was clearly an enormous adult. Long hair hung from its head, suggesting a female, and it clearly looked down at something in its hands. Tae lowered the box again. He did not resist when Subikahn slid it from his fingers.

  A frown scored Tae’s features so deeply he could feel its impression on his face. “Matrinka, I admit he does look Béarnese, but are you absolutely certain it’s Arturo?”

  Matrinka hesitated for the first time since she had collapsed on the deck. “I’m not sure it’s possible to be absolutely certain. But I believe that’s him. With all my heart.”

  Tae supposed he could get no better assurance than her reaction to the first sight of him. Then, she had recognized him solely by form and movement. Closer observation had only made her identification more likely. “This changes everything.”

  Subikahn studied Heimstadr. “Indeed.”

  This is no longer a scouting mission; it’s a rescue mission. Tae had a harder time than he expected letting go. Once they turned their attention to this new project, they lost the element of surprise and any chance to spy on the Kjempemagiska. He mulled the options. He could insist on secretive exploring that night, with the option to rescue Arturo, if it was indeed Arturo, at a later time. The logical argument could be made that, if the man had survived here for the past year, the Kjempemagiska had no intention of immediately slaughtering him. There was time to scout first and rescue later.