Revelyn: 1st Chronicles - When the last arrow falls

by Chris Ward

  ‘You were trying to kill me!’ he gasped after he had sucked in several desperate breaths. ‘I was only coming to see if you were in need of anything. Captain’s orders I swear,’ he pleaded before slumping to the floor where he made a good show of massaging his neck.’ Rema was sorely tempted to give him a thump on his miserable head, but instead squatted down by the little man and put his face up close.

  ‘No, you pathetic creature, you were there for some time. I sensed it.’ Rema spoke with such deadly intent that Wormwood ceased his protestations. ‘What did you hear?’ Rema put his right hand on the man’s shoulder and squeezed. Wormwood yelped loudly, and tried to get free; this only caused Rema to crush even harder. ‘Talk to me Wormwood, for I will break your shoulder if I need to.’ Wormwood looked into Rema’s eyes and knew that he spoke the truth.’

  ‘Alright,’ he said sulkily, ‘I did hear a little, but by chance I swear!’ He shook to get free and Rema gave one last squeeze which prompted Wormwood to confess a little more.

  ‘I heard something about an eagle, and...’ he did not get further for Rema suddenly lifted him up and sent him on his way with a swift kick to his disappearing backside, and a stern warning echoing in the narrow passageway.

  ‘Don’t come creeping around here again Wormwood, for next time I’ll put you over the side!’ There was no response but for the sounds of hasty flight.

  ‘He knows!’ Rema spoke earnestly to Serenna. ‘He heard it all. I thought I could hear something, sense a presence, but I was too absorbed in what we were doing.’ He clenched a fist and punched the bulkhead loudly enough to make Serenna jump. ‘He was sent by Tyne to spy, I’m sure of it. Tyne isn’t so concerned about our welfare to be regularly sending Wormwood to inquire of us. He will report back. I don’t know where this leaves us, but I don’t like it.’ Serenna took his arm.

  ‘You’re right Rema, although I can’t see what benefit Lethyne’s knowing about the eagle’s eye will be.’

  ‘I wish you’d stop calling him by his first name,’ Rema shook free and re-entered the cabin. Serenna frowned, for his reaction was unexpected. She followed, to find their tiny living space seemed even smaller. Rema sat deep in thought on the rude bunk, his brow, furrowed with concern. Serenna sat quietly, allowing him some time, until the silence between them became too much and she spoke gently of other things.

  ‘Do you remember that time high up on the Algehorn? It was so steep that we kept falling down, and I challenged you to a race to the top, which took...’

  ‘...which took an hour and nearly killed us both?’ Rema picked up the memory, glad to be released from his emotional shackles.

  ‘And I won, although you said I cheated for pulling you down from behind just below the summit.’ Serenna continued.

  ‘Which you did! A clear contravention of the rules of mountain summit racing.’ Rema was exaggeratedly indignant.

  ‘What nonsense!’ Serenna was having none of it, ‘You tripped over your own clumsy feet. Admit it. I was too fast and fleet for you that day.’ Rema glared at her, then smiled.

  ‘Do you remember the view? It is the best view in the highlands. We could see all the way north to the frozen forests of Ravalin beyond the Northern Breakaway. And the air was so cold and crisp it felt like you could cut it.’ He sat back entranced by the memory of it all.

  ‘And the snow was like powder. I remember throwing handfuls in the air and watching it fall. I can still hear the crunching sound it made when I picked it up. I can smell it even now, the clean air and the freedom of it all.’ Serenna too was taken back to that special moment. She sat back quietly, leaning her head on the rough timber wall behind her and the silence which settled on them was now full of warmth and wonder, and the type of memories which form friendships forever.

  After that they lost track of time talking about childhood memories, recalling the smallest details and the silliest things, of people and events, things said, and hurts mended; and as they shared, braced awkwardly against the unpredictable motion of the vessel which carried them, they each understood something more deeply than ever before; Rema was again struck by how much he had missed her, this lovely cousin of his childhood; and Serenna remembered how much she had loved him.

  As the sun crept lower down towards the horizon, its rays came directly in through the small porthole which Rema had opened earlier for a little for fresh air, illuminating and warming them, for it was a soft sun in a happy place.

  ‘I am surprised that Wormwood has not been by to inquire after our welfare!’ Rema spoke with a mock sarcasm. ‘Perhaps we should venture forth and inquire of his!’ and Serenna smiled.

  ‘Lead on Rema Bowman and try to keep your fists to yourself.’ She paused. ‘It will be interesting to see what the captain had made of it all.’ She purposely did not use his name.

  They arrived on deck to be immediately impressed by the huge and almost conical mountain standing tall off their forward port rail, perhaps only some five or six leagues distant. The crew seemed ready once more to undertake some important action. Scion was barking orders and marching up and down the mid-deck, ensuring that all was ready and would go well. Serenna glanced up to the wheel deck and was relieved that Captain Tyne was there, for she wanted to judge his mood. He nodded and smiled briefly at her as though all was well.

  Good she thought, if that is how you will play it, we’ll manage. Secretly she feared his rage and was unsure how Rema would react if he wanted to confront them over Wormwood’s treatment. It occurred to her then that the wretch had perhaps not mentioned being found out, for that would risk another boot to his sorry backside. At that moment Scion found a moment to speak with them.

  ‘Ah! You two have a talent for appearing when things are about to happen. We’ve been running before the wind, surfing since early morning. Never known a ship this big to do it. Fastest passage we ever made. Fastest passage ever made, I’d wager, from The Gates to Lavas.’

  ‘That would be Lavas then.’ Rema pointed toward the steep sided mountain which reared so impressively from the sea.

  ‘That’s it,’ Scion replied. ‘We’ll be in the harbour afore sunset.’

  ‘It looks a dangerous place to me,’ said Serenna, does it even have a harbour? It looks all rocks and cliffs and steep edges from here. I can even see the waves breaking high on the shoreline.

  ‘Ay, you’re right Lady Serenna, this side of the island is sure death to attempt a landing; but on the north east side there is another old crater, much lower than the one you see, and its rim has an opening through which we can sail with ease. The harbour there is protected from all sides. Almost perfectly round it is, about a league across, shallow enough to anchor and the fishing is good as well.’ He stopped his conversation abruptly. ‘Hang on! Captain’s about to get us off this wave. This can be interesting, Hold on tightly for we might swing around. Stick by the port rail for it will stay highest.’ He left to growl orders to several of the crew who seemed to require it. Rema grabbed Serenna and took her the few paces to the port rail where they stood and waited, hands firmly gripping the lowest part of the main mast’s rigging. A faint order from the captain was relayed by Scion, and as several sheets were released at deck level, far above four sailors attempted to furl the same sail which had figured that morning in getting the Scoria surfing. It flapped wildly, its contribution to the day’s sailing no longer required. The Scoria slowed slightly and the big ship slipped up to the wave crest and over the back as the wave upon which it had spent the day surfing, kept going, unmoved by the ship’s loss of interest in it. Once more the vessel slewed alarmingly around to port, but Smig, still at the wheel, held her firmly in anticipation, and whilst they heeled over enough to need a firm grip on the rigging, all went well and the Scoria quickly straightened and headed directly for Lavas, allowing the waves to pass once more. The ship’s motion was now more restless and slower, and not nearly as pleasant.

  ‘We couldn’t surf any further,’ Scion explained a little latter when a
ll the crew had completed their tasks to his satisfaction, ‘or we’d run right pass the island altogether. We need to make some northerly distance and beat around the island to the harbour. Stay on deck is my advice, for the motion below will not be pleasant for a while.’

  As the sun set, the Scoira rounded the southern tip of Lavas, and just as Scion had predicted, made safe entry to the only harbour on the rugged island. The water in the crater harbour was very calm, being protected on all sides by the steep and high rock walls of the ancient sunken volcano which were almost completely free from any vegetation. In the shimmering twilight, as the deep reds and pinks glowed warmly from the clouds far above them, the Scoria made its way slowly up the harbour, until on Captain Tyne’s command, the anchor was let go and the ship, so alive and active all through the day fell quiet, to swing gently at its mooring not two hundred cubits off the small township which owed is existence to the mighty mountain on which side it clung.

  ‘Welcome to Lavas!’ Scion came and stood beside Rema and Serenna. Entranced they stood at the port rail and relaxed as the light faded and the colours turned to a deeper purple, whilst everywhere in the town lamps were lit, sending countless twinkling reflections across the water to welcome them. The smells of the land and the evening’s cooking drifted to them. As the breeze faded it changed direction and the Scoria swung slowly in a wide arc; as it did the peace was suddenly interrupted as Scion tensed. Rema sensed the man’s fear.

  ‘What has caused you such discomfort my friend, for I sense you are alarmed at some development?’ Rema spoke in a gentle whisper.

  ‘Out there.’ Scion pointed to where a large ship lay at anchor further out. It was completely dark. No lamp or light gave any clue that any living thing was aboard and breathing. ‘It is a wonder that I did not see her before. It is a curse to be sure to share a harbour with that vessel.’ Scion spat loudly into the sea below. As he did a chill wind ruffled the waters about the Scoria and whilst Serenna and Rema shivered, it was not from the cold, for the air was mild.

  ‘You know that ship?’ Serenna inquired of Scion who stood as though transfixed.

  ‘That’s the Ocean Rose,’ he hissed, ‘but do not let the name beguile you for it is a fell boat and all who sail upon her are to be avoided, for there is a sickness in their hearts and a love of self which comes afore all else.’ Scion spat again. ‘You think our Captain Tyne is a hard man, and in truth he is; but he is not evil, not like the captain of the Ocean Rose.’ He fell silent, and they waited for a time before Scion answered their unspoken question.

  ‘Jehru Abhor.’ He whispered the name almost fearfully. ‘Captain Jehru Abhor. Some say he is not human; but he is, just bent and lost and twisted, for he knows not what is right or where to find it, and even if he did he would choose to turn the other way.’ He stopped and no one spoke for a time as they gazed upon the shadow boat which suddenly seemed closer and more sinister than it had just a moment before. ‘Jehru Abhor,’ Scion repeated, ‘keep well way from that ship and all them as sails upon her, for they are not to be trusted.’ He paused and a cold silence fell once more between them, before he spoke suddenly once more. ‘Not for a moment do you hear!’ And then he abruptly departed below. Both Rema and Serenna were deeply disturbed that one so strong and able as Scion, could be so readily intimidated by such a ship, and by a man named Jehru Abhor.

  Two days later Rema had seen all there was to see of the Lavas township, and was restless to continue his journey. Indeed there was not a great deal to see. He and Serenna had walked every street and drank at every tavern. There were only three. Walking anywhere was a trial for in truth there was not a level piece of ground to be found on the whole island except for the complex battlements high above the harbour where a huge area had been carved out of the mountain to create the most ingenious defence system Rema had ever seen, or indeed heard of. He was so impressed with what he had seen there that he spent several hours drawing out how they worked, for he could see an immediate application to the defence of his beloved highlands. Serenna had stayed close by him at all times for she was unnerved by events which happened the day before. Early in the morning after they had arrived in Lavas harbour, Captain Tyne had ordered the ship brought into the main jetty in order to load the ‘trading water’ as Wormwood called it. The berthing of the Scoria was an operation which required exceptional skill in the light airs and the busy harbour. The fishing fleet of many small single masted vessels was putting to sea, and the air was full of angry words and curses as each vessel tried to find its own safe route through the mêlée. Amongst all this Captain Lethyne Tyne edged his much larger vessel in toward the shore using all his skills and every oath known to seafarers, for the crew were slow to act after a quiet night and a little too much rum. Finally they were securely tied up for the cost of one large scour in a starboard bow timber and a rather sadly dented fishing smack whose drunken skipper fell overboard and need rescuing by his almost equally drunken crew. Rema and Serenna had watched in fascination. Scion told them that it was unusual for Tyne to want to berth so early, and of habit he normally let the fishing fleet clear the inshore before attempting such a tricky feat.

  ‘Bit unnerved by the Ocean Rose he is,’ Scion had informed them. ‘Wants to get loaded and back to sea. Hates to share the same harbour as that fell vessel. And he’s not alone in that!’ Tyne’s unease was well founded; for hardly had they set foot on the jetty when they were confronted by a group of the most desperate looking sailors Rema had ever seen, or imagined. They were led by an over tall and barrel-chested man whose long matted hair and well patched dirty tunic spoke of a small regard for personal cleanliness and decency. His face bore the pock marks of an old disease which might never have completely healed, and his teeth were worse than Wormwood’s; but it was the eyes which held the awfulness together, for they were dead eyes. Stone dead. Eyes which had seen others die, beaten and bloody at his command. There was no gentleness or peace in the face of Jehru Abhor; nor any of his men.

  ‘Slept ashore,’ hissed Scion, ‘that’s why the ship was so dark last evening. Probably drunk themselves stupid and by the looks of it that’s still the way they are.’ No words were exchanged between the two groups but Serenna was horrified that Jehru Abhor took a clear interest in her, for he leered at her with wide unblinking eyes which followed her every move as she and Rema walked uneasily down the jetty and into the town. She could feel his eyes upon her and she instinctively took Rema’s arm and leant in towards him. Rema responded protectively, for whilst he had not her perception in these matters, he sensed her great disquiet.

  ‘What is it with these captains,’ Serenna had said when they were well clear of the port and higher up into the township. ‘Do they all want to own me? Is there something strange about me? Do they think I am some animal for trading?’ From a vantage point they had turned and watched as a small boat left the shore and rowed slowly out to the sinister black ship which waited for them. ‘Even now he is looking for me!’ for Serenna’s sharp eyes could discern, even at that distance, that the evil captain of the Ocean Rose was gazing fixedly in her direction; or so it seemed.

  ‘Scion says they are loaded and ready for sea. They are flying a blue flag from their mizzen which he says is the sign to other ships that they are ready to leave. With fortune we may never share the same air with them again, for they are an evil band if ever I saw one.’ Rema tried to console them both with the hope that it had been but a fleeting contact with the men of the Ocean Rose. Despite his positive comments, deep down Rema had a very bad feeling about that ship and its crew, for as he stood with Serenna gazing out to where it lay at anchor, his deepest sense seemed heightened and he thought he caught a whisper of some dark plan come to him from across the water. He shivered.

  ‘Stay close Serenna,’ he commanded without realising the strength in his words, but she took no offence and indeed took his arm once more as they turned their backs on Jehru Abhor and his sinister ship.

  They climbed the m
ountain to see the famous spring and were disappointed that in reality it was little more than a trickle emerging from the rocks. A channel had been cut and earthenware pipes laid to carry the water down to the township. The town merchants paid for a civilian guard to watch over the spring, but as it was impossible to steal he did little more than spend his days admiring the view which was quite stunning. Serenna and Rema could see the other Crater Islands lying to the north, and in the far distance to the east they caught sight of the mainland which was the other side of Oudin’s Bight. In the town the water from the spring was held in deep rock-cut cisterns which were almost never filled due to the constant demand from the passing shipping. Whilst the spring itself was less than impressive, Rema found that to actually drink the ‘Lavas water’ was a most extraordinary experience, and one drink made him feel renewed. The taste was biting to the tongue but warm to the stomach, and he swore that his neck felt suddenly better, for it had ached continually since his cramped stay in the Scoria’s lookout.

  The soil was rich and grew vegetables easily, but as the land was so steep there was very little farming, so most produce was imported from the mainland. The fishing fleet was thriving for there was plenty to catch within the harbour, and in the colder deeper waters of the nearby ocean. A day’s catch was readily salted and quickly sold to the shipping trade. Rema and Serenna learnt most of what there was to know about Lavas within a few hours of walking the steep streets and chatting with the friendly townspeople; but in the small and appropriately named ‘Lookout Tavern’ high up above the harbour, they both agreed that Lavas was an interesting place, but impressive rather than beautiful.