Skuld was the definition of confused. He wanted to be a great warrior like Boen, a wise Man like Bahr, and Anienam was convinced he’d make a fine wizard. He often grinned himself to sleep, thinking that his life had nowhere to go but up. Perhaps with a little time he might grow to be all three. He’d put on muscle since leaving Delranan to rescue the princess. His hair, already unkempt, now hung past his shoulders. His clothes were starting to fray and he generally smelled bad from the inability to take a bath but he didn’t care. He was more alive than ever, even if he didn’t know which direction to take his life. He paused when he found Princess Maleela listening to the twisted, broken Ionascu close to the bow.
“Princess, you must think of your people,” Harnin’s former spy cooed. “Delranan is dying and your family has lost power.”
Her face brightened in the pale moonlight. “My family abandoned Delranan long before Harnin stole power, Ionascu. You were one of his puppets. You know more than anyone how foul his deeds have become.”
He nodded too eagerly. “True. True, but there is always hope that he can be removed. Would you see your father back upon the throne or…yourself? Perhaps it is time for the kingdom to have a queen.”
He smiled wickedly. Once a trusted spy for Harnin One Eye, Ionascu was betrayed and tortured until his body was broken. Harnin discarded him after the mission to rescue Maleela from Rogscroft. He dreamed of the day when he’d be able to exact his revenge on the One Eye, falling deeper into dementia as the days fled. The visions didn’t come until their time in the Dwarven kingdom of Drimmen Delf. Nightmarish figures came to him in the cold night and whispered promises of power, and more. He quickly fell under their sway even while knowing they were the servants of great evil. They promised to restore his former glory. All he had to do was deliver Maleela to them.
“Why are you so interested? You didn’t seem to mind working for my father and his band of thugs,” she replied tersely. Yet despite her rough tone, he managed to plant the seeds of doubt and worse, the desire to be more than the limitations of herself.
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Harnin abandoned me and your father never cared. I am alone in the world, Princess. All of my men were murdered before your very eyes. What else can I do but try to change what is?”
“We have all made sacrifices, Ionascu. Don’t try to make me believe yours is more than any other on this ship. Go back to your hiding and leave me be.”
Properly scolded, the broken Man snickered. “Delranan is going to need new leadership when this is said and done. Why not the daughter of the king?”
He took up his walking stick and hobbled off, whistling under his breath. Maleela let out the breath of anger she’d been holding and wiped her face with her palms. Men like Ionascu were part of a greater problem she hadn’t come up with a solution for. Closing her eyes, Maleela tried to think of a time when her life wasn’t so arduous. She couldn’t. Badron blamed her for the death of his wife, her mother. The queen died giving life to Maleela, leaving a permanent scar on the relationship between father and daughter. She didn’t know why, but her thoughts suddenly veered down the direction of Ionascu’s urging. Questions sprang to life. Why couldn’t she be queen? The ruler Delranan deserved. Ideations of grandeur sprinkled through her mind, making it hard to focus on the task at hand.
“Excuse me, Princess,” Skuld interrupted. The look of concern on his face told her he had overheard much of Ionascu’s conversation. “Captain Bahr says it’s time to get ready.”
She blinked rapidly, hoping to erase the devious thoughts in her mind. “Thank you, Skuld. Are we ready?”
“As far as I’ve been told. Those river Men will never know what hit them,” he beamed proudly. “Captain’s got me up on the bow with Ironfoot.”
Maleela thought that bit was too much and decidedly more dangerous than the youth was prepared to handle. She wasn’t prepared to confront Bahr, her uncle, directly about something she was sure would be brushed off. Skuld had undergone numerous challenges and death-defying acts since stowing away about the Bane. Who was she to debate that?
She laid a warming hand on his wrist. “Be safe, Skuld. We’ve come too far for any of us to get hurt now.”
“It’ll be all right. I promise.” He gave her that youthful smile of his and marched off to take his position on the bow.
Skuld suddenly discovered self doubt. He’d been so sure of himself right up until hearing Ionascu. The man made his skin crawl. He couldn’t understand why Bahr kept him on. Useless, the former spy was their greatest liability. After hearing his conversation, Skuld was now convinced Ionascu served some nefarious purpose and Maleela was his target. He decided to look after her. The only trouble was in not letting her know.
“This is no place for a boy,” Ironfoot said as Skuld approached.
The Dwarf warrior stood with his hands on the bow rail. He reveled in the wind kissing his face. Having spent the majority of his life underground, Ironfoot took in each new sight with delight. Iron torcs made his biceps bulge. A horned helm sat on a nearby crate. His battle axe and pair of black powder pistols were close by. He only wore his chainmail chest armor over a leather jerkin. Dwarves were no strangers to war, and he was in no hurry to get dressed.
Skuld would have been taken aback a few months ago but he’d come to realize his companions were of iron spines. It was his duty to match them. “Captain Bahr sent me.”
The Dwarf nodded. “I figured. Has the Giant spotted anything yet?”
Avoiding the obvious height reference, Skuld replied, “I don’t know.”
“I can’t see a damned thing from here,” Ironfoot said. “It’s been long enough between battles. I figure it’s time to get our hands dirty again.”
Skuld flashed back to the bodies being dumped into the river. All of his childhood dreams of becoming a mighty warrior died a little more with each new fight. He didn’t see how anyone could come to disregard life so casually. Ironfoot glanced back at his sudden quietness and looked on the boy with understanding.
“This isn’t an easy life, Skuld. We fight. We die. If we’re fortunate we get to live a full life in between. Don’t be so quick to judge. No one on this barge kills because they want to. Now be a lad and go see if the Giant has seen our opponents. I’d just as soon not get my head shot off while waiting to don my kit.”
Glumly, Skuld nodded and headed back towards the bridge and Groge.
The barge scraped over a series of low rapids. Stone and wood colliding echoed over the gently rolling valleys on both sides of the river. Bahr cringed, the sound louder than thunder to his ears. Torchlight illuminated small areas on the surrounding hills.
“There are many figures moving in the night,” Groge called back over his shoulder.
Bahr strained but couldn’t make anything out. Small trees rose up on both sides, preventing his line of sight from extending very far. Large boulders populated great portions of the shore, making the going more treacherous. His only option was to trust the young Giant until the enemy gave themselves away.
“How many can you see?”
Groge paused, silently counting. He turned and gave Bahr a dreadful look. “More than thirty.”
“That means there must be at least fifty. They wouldn’t all be in the open like that,” Bahr grunted. Fifty was a very large number. His best ally was the current. The barge would only move as fast as the river let it, giving them too much time in the kill box. He looked at Anienam and said, “I don’t suppose you have any spells that can speed us right along?”
“Unfortunately no,” the wizard replied. “Our best option is to keep our heads down and hope for the best.”
“I’ve never been the sort to rely on hope,” Bahr told him. “Groge, when I give the word I want you to blow on that horn of yours.”
“Yes, Captain,” the Giant said.
Satisfied that there was nothing else he could do, Bahr piloted the barge into the ambush.
FIVE
Ambush
“They’re not sure what’s going on,” Bahr said as the barge continued through the bend.
Anienam agreed. “They expected to have torches lit and their captain delivering us without our knowledge. Running dark was a good idea, Bahr.”
“For the moment. It won’t be long before they decide something’s not right. We’re nowhere near out of this yet.”
As if on cue, a single arrow sped from the trees to strike the wheelhouse. Torches burst to life along the banks. The river Men popped up, weapons in hand. Bahr grimaced tightly. All of the river Men he could see were armed with sword and bows. That’s a lot of arrows. Heads down might not be good enough. “Groge, now!”
The Giant smith put the horn to his lips and gave a mighty blow. The sound was deep, thunderous. It swept across the hills and fields, trembling the very earth. Men dropped their weapons to cover their ears before the pressure burst their eardrums. Bahr shied away. Even behind Groge the sound was incredible. The Giant gave another blow, followed closely by another. A scattering of arrows sailed back in response.
Rekka Jel was the first to respond. Her aim was true. The dark shaft took the river Man in the middle of the chest. He dropped into the water. Incoming fire from the shores picked up. Dozens of arrows now peppered the barge’s hull. The battle began in earnest. Dorl and Rekka fired opportunistic shots, only doing so when they had clearly defined targets. Enemy fire increased as the bend grew tighter. Soon Bahr would have to be extraordinarily adept at maneuvering the barge or they’d run aground. Then the fun would really begin.
“This is nuts,” Dorl snapped under his breath as he released another arrow.
Nothol, stationed a few meters away, agreed. “We’ve been in worse. Keep your trap shut and keep up your fire.”
Dorl checked his quiver. He had less than twenty shots left. Not much considering the enemy had seemingly endless amounts of arrows to draw from. He privately wondered how much longer they were going to last before the decision was forced.
“Fire! They’ve got fire arrows!”
Dorl wasn’t sure who shouted out but his heart sunk, just like the barge if enough of those arrows took hold.
Bahr resisted the urge to kick the cackling river captain in the face. Instead he watched, helpless, as dozens of flaming arrows struck the barge. Maleela and Skuld raced to put the flames out. He knew it was only a matter of time before the inevitable happened and they’d be forced to abandon ship. Images of the Dragon’s Bane burning taunted him. He vowed not to lose another boat, at least if he could help it.
“I told you! You’ll never escape us,” the river captain snarled, having slipped the gag down to his neck. Wild delight danced in his eyes. “I’ll see to it you die last, Sea Wolf. You’ll watch every one of your companions die painfully first.”
“I thought I told you to gag him?” Bahr snapped at Anienam.
The wizard frowned, only now realizing what had happened. A handful of arrows struck the wheelhouse. Sparks and flame dripped onto the deck.
“Can’t you do something? We’re going to burn to the water soon!” Bahr shouted angrily. He was tired of being used.
Anienam pushed his heavy sleeves up to his elbows and narrowed his eyes to slits. His lips moved in ways that no words could form. The barge rocked as if being pulled from the water and gently set back down. Bahr felt his skin prickle. His hairs stood on end. Outside, Groge busily extinguished the flames with his massive slabs of calloused hands. They already appeared black in the semi dark.
The world darkened suddenly, so black Bahr couldn’t see the wheel. Violent humming grew in his ears, turning into screeching whistles. Letting go of the wheel, he threw his hands up to cover his ears just as a blast of frigid wind rocked the barge. He was certain it was a cyclone, even though he’d only rarely heard of similar outbursts of nature on land. When he opened his eyes every torch and burning arrow had been extinguished, including the numerous fires he’d spotted on land. Anienam had saved them, for now.
Any relief he felt was short lived at the sound of multiple splashes. His face darkened. The river Men were going to attempt to board and recapture the barge. He only had moments before they made the short swim to the hull. Bahr jotted to the door and shouted, “Prepare to repel boarders!”
The sound of swords being drawn answered him. Boen and Rekka took the port side while Nothol and Dorl, against his protests, went starboard. They worked too well as a pair to break up in the middle of a determined fight for survival. Ironfoot remained on the bow, ready to assist whichever side needed him more. That left Groge patrolling the aft, though Bahr somehow doubted anyone in their right mind going anywhere close to the Giant.
Wet hands stretched up to grasp the rails. A score of river Men pulled their way onto the barge. Naked from the waste up, they were covered with tattoos and armed with cutlasses and daggers. None of them knew what they were getting into. Boen brought his sword down with a violent two-handed chop, cleaving the first river Man’s skull before he managed to get to his feet. The corpse fell back into the river as others climbed aboard. They bellowed curses and roared defiance at the people who’d killed their friends. The Gaimosian stepped back and gestured for them to attack. They did.
He hacked. Slashed. A body crumbled under the tremendous force of Boen’s blow. Hot blood washed across the deck. A horse whinnied from the bow. An arrow whipped past Boen’s face, the feathers neatly cutting his right cheek. Snarling, Boen doubled his efforts. Bodies began to pile around him, enough that the river Men in the back slunk off in search of softer targets. The Gaimosian sliced through his remaining enemies with little effort.
When it was over he stood hunched. Blood coated his chest and arms. His breath came in ragged gasps. He suddenly felt very old. Maleela’s cries got his attention and he forced away any thoughts of weakness. The princess needed his help. Hefting his sword, he hurried towards the passenger cabin where he found a pair if river Men trying to break in. Great chunks of door already lay on the deck. They hacked away with small boarding axes, eager to claim their prize. Boen never gave them the chance. He slashed the closest across the back, severing his spine. The river Man died in silent agony. The second spun in time to see Boen’s blade take his head off. Boen kicked the head away with disgust.
“Princess, are you all right?” he asked between labored breaths.
Relief in her voice, she replied, “Yes, thank you.”
“Good. Keep this door barred until we come back for you,” he instructed and took off before she could answer. Sounds of combat still raged from the bow.
Moving as fast as his old legs could go, Boen slipped past the wagon and horses to find Dorl finishing a river Man with a blade plunged down through the chest. Nothol had another against the rail and was punching him in the side of the head as hard as he could. Rekka and Ironfoot had multiple bodies heaped around them. A quick scan told him the rest of the barge was secure.
The Dwarf wiped his axe clean. “A good fight. Are there any others?”
Boen shook his head. “I took care of the ones in the back. Still, we should check. I don’t want to be surprised in the middle of the night.”
Dwarf and Gaimosian swept the barge for any more river Men. They found one half-buried under a stack of burlap sacks and crates, clearly waiting to slit their throats once the battle ended and everyone bedded down. Boen stepped aside to let Ironfoot finish him off. There wasn’t any need for prisoners. They heard no further splashes. No announcements of the river Men trying to repeat the failed tactic. Boen didn’t think that meant the attack was over; merely the river Men were going to be more cautious. They still had the numbers, though without the skill or tenacity. He directed Dorl and Nothol to begin dumping the bodies in the hopes that the sight would deter more attacks. Psychological warfare was almost as important as actual fighting and Boen aimed to take full advantage of the situation. Being trapped on a small moving barge left him with little options and no place to hide or run to if things got too bad. He hat
ed the feeling.
Passing Groge, he looked up and asked, “What do you see?”
“The others are holding back. I do not believe they expected such violence,” the Giant answered. His tone was awkward, as if laden with sorrow.
Boen shrugged it off. He didn’t have time to deal with emotions, not if they expected to survive the next few minutes. “I wouldn’t be in a hurry to come at us again either. Too bad some people just don’t learn.”
He stomped up the irritatingly steep flight of steps to the wheelhouse and leaned heavily against the doorframe. Bahr glanced back at him. His eyes were raw, bloodshot. “Any casualties?”
“A few scratches, maybe some bruises,” Boen replied. “I could use a drink.”
“We all could. These river scum just don’t know when they’ve been beat.”
Boen shot a look at the bound captain. “What about this one? He doesn’t serve any purpose now that we’ve sprung the ambush. I say we get rid of him now.”
“He might still have some information we can use,” Bahr cautioned. The idea of killing a defenseless man didn’t sit well.
Boen recognized the defiance in the river Man’s eyes and knew there’d be no further information given. Especially not after witnessing so many of his people get cut down. “Keeping him around is a liability. They might keep coming if they know he’s still here.”
Bahr considered the possibility, reluctantly admitting he’d overlooked it in the heat of the moment. The last thing he wanted was a running fight with tribes of river Men. There wasn’t time, nor was he inclined to devote so much energy to such a trivial cause. They hadn’t come down the river to fight. Trennaron awaited. His decision became painfully evident.
Empire of Bones Page 4