by L. L. McNeil
Tears welled up at the futility of it, and she did not hear Palom’s approach until he spoke.
‘Why the tears, Moroda?’ His voice was deep and rich with concern.
Blinking them away, Moroda took a step back and smiled up at the Ittallan. ‘Oh, nothing,’ she stammered, annoyed with herself at being caught off guard.
‘Doesn’t look like nothing,’ his eyes narrowed as he looked her over. ‘Are you hurt?’
‘No, no, nothing like that. I’m just…worried about the trip. Worried about what we might find, or how long it might take.’ She sniffed.
‘You’re the daughter of a trader, aren’t you?’
She nodded, wiping away the last of her tears and glancing skywards to try and stem the flow.
‘What was the trade?’
‘Teas and coffees, mostly. Sometimes more exotic things. And the chests.’
‘The Ittallan…we’ve traded with Corhaven for years. Relationships developed. Trust formed. We won the war together. We are allies. Anahrik and I will watch you, Moroda, and your sister. There can be no tears,’ Palom said. ‘You helped me out of Niversai last night. If not, I would not be here safe with Anahrik. We owe you.’
Too shocked to reply, Moroda remained silent.
‘I smell bread inside. Come. The others are waiting.’ Palom watched her for a long moment, before he gestured for her to enter the inn before him.
‘There you are! You were gone ages!’ Eryn squealed, hugging Moroda as she entered the inn. ‘Are you okay? Have you been crying?’
‘No, no…’ She pushed Eryn off and studied the room. The remainder of their party had gathered, aside from Amarah and Sapora. Morgen had his back to the others and was talking to the innkeeper by the bar. Their voices were low, but Moroda picked up on the words, “Imperial,” “dragon,” and, “guard,” frequently.
Once discussions were over, the innkeeper left, and Morgen turned to the group, ‘It’s settled. He will give us food and coin to see us through to Berel in thanks for bringing down the dragon, though he has several more bounties with larger rewards should you return, Kohl.’
‘I may do just that, when we’re done in Berel,’ the Arillian replied.
‘Is everyone ready to go?’ Morgen asked. Everyone nodded their assurance, and Moroda and Eryn took a few momnents to put on their new travelling cloaks. The deck of Amarah’s ship was largely uncovered, and Moroda wasn’t sure how much room there’d be in the hold. If they had several days’ flight ahead, she didn’t want to freeze, not with autumn rolling by so quickly.
The innkeeper returned, carrying a large wicker hamper. Palom and Morgen stepped forward to have a look. Resting on the white linen on the lid of the hamper were eight bread rolls, still hot from the oven and dripping with butter. Morgen passed them out while Palom inspected the contents of the hamper—it was loaded with loaves of bread, cheese wheels, salted meat and fish, several large potatoes, a handful of green onions, two small sacks; one of rice, the other of beans, a clove of garlic, a wedge of butter laced with red berries, and springs of scented herbs wrapped with twine. There were also several glass bottles wrapped in leather and sealed with cork—filled with water or wine, perhaps, or cold tea. Finally, tucked in the very bottom, was a small leather bag full of florins and the odd half-crown; the full bounty for slaying a problem dragon.
Moroda realised knowing someone in the Imperial Guard obviously had its benefits when it came to doing business in towns and villages.
‘See, he’s trying to help us now.’ Moroda said to her sister. ‘What’s to stop him trying to arrest us again when we’re alone? Better to keep our distance.’
‘Not to admit any distrust, but I will keep the coin, and no- one is to tell Amarah of it. We are relying on her for a safe journey, and we may need this should things turn sour,’ Morgen suggested, putting the small pouch in the pocket of his surcoat.
The rain that had begun the previous night had not quite let up, though Kohl assured them it was warm above the clouds, and if the mist lifted, the day would be clear with excellent visibility.
Morgen once again spoke for the party at the village gates, and a few moments later, the group entered the forest beyond. In the early morning light, surrounded by birdsong, Moroda enjoyed the walk. Her eyes were not keen enough to spot the small, feathered creatures in the trees, but she heard them clearly enough, and managed to spot the occasional burst of colour as one songbird would flit from tree to tree.
Moroda and her sister followed along with renewed enthusiasm––perhaps the trip would not be so bad after all. She hadn’t realised what a boon it would be to have a member of the Imperial Guard with them, not to mention a friendly Ittallan who knew how to fight. Moroda admired Kohl, too, despite his fierce appearance and blunt personality. He had also warned her and her sister about the dragon, so something had to be said for that.
‘I can hardly believe Amarah stayed out here all night. How cold it must have been.’ Eryn said to her sister, drawing her thick cloak tightly around herself.
‘She looks like she knows how to handle herself.’ ‘You trust her?’ Eryn asked, after a pointed pause.
Moroda said nothing in response, sharing her sister’s uncertainty. She disliked needing help and protection, but this was not her world, and she did not have many options. Humility was a trait she had learned quickly, and so far it seemed to be serving her well enough.
Anahrik, Morgen, and Palom walked ahead of them, and she watched and listened as their weapons clattered against each other where Anahrik carried the Ittallan pair’s plethora of weaponry on his shoulders. He carried himself with a carefree confidence, running off on tangents in the conversation before being reeled back in by Palom. They were made for the world and all it had to offer. She and Eryn were stumbling along in the dark. She pondered their company as they walked along the forest path, orange and red leaves littering the edges having fallen from the branches above.
The pace slowed when they reached the clearing where Khanna had crashed the night before—the canopy was torn open, casting early morning light on the airship where she lay. Amarah had done an excellent job of clearing the space of broken branches, leaves and other debris. Moroda could see the remains of a small fire, still lightly smoking, not far from where the hastily repaired airship rested.
‘Amarah?’ Palom called into the clearing, his voice booming, vibrating the soft wooden panels along the side of the ship.
‘Keep your voice down. Do you want to bring the entire forest on us?’ Amarah replied from somewhere deep inside the airship, her voice muffled by the wood.
‘Looks like she did survive the night,’ Anahrik sighed, folding his arms and leaning on the side of the hamper.
‘I heard that, you little punk,’ Amarah called, stepping out onto the deck of the ship, cleaning grime and dirt from her hands with a grubby wash cloth. ‘You can fly yourself the whole way there unless you keep your damned attitude in check.’
Ignoring her retort to his partner, Palom opened the lid of the hamper, ‘Breakfast?’
‘Sounds good. Ship is ready to go. Everyone who’s coming, get on.’ Amarah climbed down and took the buttered bread roll from the top of the hamper, now cool after their walk through the trees. ‘Skinned a rabbit last night. Of course nothing beats fresh bread first thing in the morning,’ she grinned, wiping away butter and grease from her chin with the same dirty rag.
Leaving Amarah to eat, Moroda and Eryn followed Morgen on board the airship. Moroda had never been on an airship so small. Her only experience of travel by air was on luxury airships: massive behemoths that lumbered lazily through the air at a snail’s pace. She had been very young when she had last been aboard such a vessel, and her father had been very much alive.
Khanna was sparse, no doubt to keep weight down and allow for greater speed and agility. Jumping off the deck or clambering up the side steps seemed to be the route favoured by Amarah and Anahrik, but Moroda did not have the same gusto, and instead
got on board through the small hatch on Khanna’s side. The suspended metal stairs leading up to the deck were narrow and cramped, and Moroda saw the four engines which powered the ship nestled tightly in the hull. She marvelled at the sight as she climbed the stairs leading to the deck, noticing a floor and rooms above the engines.
‘Sleeping quarters,’ Anahrik said, running up behind Moroda and the others. ‘Come on, come on, I want to get up on deck,’ he pressed, hopping on one foot as Eryn and Morgen reached the top of the steps and came out of the hold onto the deck through a hatch.
Muttering a brief apology to Anahrik, Moroda followed, with the Ittallan bursting onto deck just after her. Looking over it for the first time, Moroda was again surprised at the simplicity. The ship’s controls were set into a raised platform in the centre-rear of the deck. The deck itself was covered by a dark, thick fabric, some kind of leather, which stretched from the controls all the way to the back wall of the ship, providing cover from the worst of the wind or rain. Crates and boxes were littered behind the controls to suffice as seating. Palom clambered onto the deck with the hamper held behind him, and Moroda watched as he wedged it between two large crates that had been welded to the floor.
Anahrik, meanwhile, had raced along the main deck, past the main sail, and come to a stop at the pointed front of the ship, arms on the raised wooden sides as he peered over the edge. Moroda could still see the damage from the dragon attack; parts of the exposed deck were blackened and splintered from damage sustained during either the chase or the landing. Amarah claimed the ship was ready to fly.
Moroda rubbed Eryn’s shoulder as they stared out to Burian Forest, now lightening as the sun rose far to the east.
‘Kohl is with us,’ Eryn said, watching the Arillian as he hovered a short way above the ship and the clearing, scouting the surroundings. On deck, Anahrik transformed and flew straight up to meet the Arillian in the sky. Unable to hover as Kohl could, Anahrik instead circled widely, rising and falling in altitude.
By the time the two landed back on deck, everyone was present and eager to get going now the light was upon them. ‘Sapora not joining us?’ Morgen asked Amarah, glancing around for the Varkain.
‘He’s below,’ Amarah replied, rubbing sleep from her right eye. ‘We’ll head east, back towards Niversai, to the River Flynn.
We’ll follow that south into Ranski, and all the way to Berel. Khanna will fly, but she’ll be no racer until we get her properly repaired. I’ve lost over half my power, and I don’t want to push her. She still runs silent as stone, so that’s something to be said for my engines. If the weather’s good, we’ll be in Berel within three days.’
Moroda smiled at Amarah’s words. Three days to Berel, less than two days back on a ship in prime condition, surely? By that time, she didn’t know what would have become of Niversai, or whether or not she and Eryn would be able to continue with their lives. Pushing it out of her mind, she felt her stomach dance with excitement as Amarah went below deck to get the engines going. A trip to Berel, that’s all it was.
‘I hope that Varkain sleeps for the whole journey. I don’t like having one on board,’ Anahrik said once Amarah had disappeared, folding his arms behind his head as he did so. ‘Looks clear from up there. We shouldn’t have anything to worry about. After that dragon attack, I doubt anything will be in the skies for a while, anyway.’
‘We’ll get weapons ready and ensure everyone is armed, even still,’ Palom said. ‘Dragons attacking is rare enough. We could come across anything. Best to be prepared for the worst.’
Moroda noted how concerned he was about their journey, and wondered whether Eryn was right to be cautious.
‘Anahrik, sort through the weapons and get everything ready. Kohl has offered to scout ahead. When he tires, you will scout. Understood?’ Palom asked his trading partner.
‘Got it!’ Anahrik replied with a wide grin, starting to go through the supplies the two Ittallan had brought with them. The engines below kicked into life with a violent shake as Anahrik untied the wrapped fabric protecting their weaponry. The sails to the side of the ship and along the mast fanned out, and the propellers began to turn with a low thrum.
‘Moroda, Eryn,’ Anahrik called from where he was crouched on deck, unfazed by the shaking ship as it slowly floated off the ground. ‘What experience do you have with weapons?’
The sisters glanced at one another with unease. ‘None, really,’ Eryn admitted.
‘You mean outside of schooling?’ Anahrik asked, standing up straight with a short dagger in each hand.
‘We weren’t really taught that sort of thing,’ Moroda said, embarrassed for the first time about her education. ‘We learned to ride, to dance, to sew…History, geography. There were many books.’
Anahrik’s eyes were wide. ‘You’ve never learned to fight?’
‘We have the Imperial Guard for that,’ Eryn retorted, arms folded in defiance. ‘We read about a few significant battles and the weapons used, but that was the extent of it.’
‘Hmm…You may need to learn sooner rather than later,’ he said, looking at the blades in his hands. ‘We didn’t bring our full stock to Niversai, and we don’t have any shields. Maybe we can get you a bit of armour and work on evasion and defence.' He scratched the stubble on his chin. ‘The last thing we want is for someone to get hurt. Kohl, Palom and Amarah are fighters…Morgen obviously knows how to handle himself in combat too, so you shouldn’t need to get involved.’
‘We’re fast learners; we don’t want to be on the side-lines,’ Moroda said, determined. ‘We don’t want to get in the way either.’
Anahrik grinned back, ‘Maybe something long range, so you don’t need to get up too close. The only threat we’ll encounter will be dragons anyway, and Kohl can handle himself with those.’
The airship cleared the forest canopy and slowly turned to face the rising sun. Without the protection of the trees, the wind picked up, and Moroda shivered and adjusted her cloak, trying to focus on Anahrik.
Palom looked over at the girls, before glancing back to his stock. ‘Longbows and shortbows need much time to train. Won’t hurt dragons anyway. Crossbow, I think.’ His accent became stronger the more he spoke, and Moroda smiled, watching as he reached into their sack of supplies and pulled out the metal weapon with one hand. ‘Slow weapon but very strong. But as last resort. Leave any dragons to Kohl and I.’ He offered the crossbow to them. ‘We understand.’ Moroda accepted the crossbow. She tried not to stare at the wicked lines of the weapon and kept her attention on the Ittallan.
‘Leaving Burian forest,’ Amarah called from her position at the wheel, one hand steering the ship, her other on a lever to sort out a sail that had folded in on itself. ‘Kohl, do you see anything?’ she called up to the Arillian, who hovered a short way above the ship. He lifted his wings and caught the wind, gaining height until he was little more than a speck in the distance. As Khanna rose above the trees and morning mist, Moroda found that Kohl was indeed correct—the day was lovely and clear.
Kohl circled above at some distance, before continuing on a short way ahead of the ship.
‘Guess it’s all clear then,’ Amarah muttered, keeping relatively low and steering her ship due east. ‘So you know, my weapons bay below was badly burned,’ she said, turning her attention to her passengers. ‘We’ll be flying low and slow, keeping out of the eyes of anyone around, seeing as we cannot fight. Kohl and Anahrik should give us warning enough to keep out of danger. I expect you all to pitch in where and when I say, and we’ll get to Berel all the sooner. Everyone understood?’
‘We understand,’ Morgen said, joining the others under the deck cover. ‘How long until we reach Niversai?’
Amarah shrugged, ‘At this speed, an hour? Far cry from last night at full thrust, I’m afraid.’
Morgen sighed and sat down on the wooden crate. He lifted the hamper, pulled out one of the bottles provided by the inn, and took a deep swig. Readying himself for a long, slow flig
ht through Corhaven, and south into Ranski, he watched Palom show Eryn and Moroda his weapons. He found it interesting that Goldstones were having to learn to fight for themselves now. It truly seemed Linaria was turning against them all.
Chapter Nine
Moroda held the Ittallan’s weapon delicately—the crossbow was far heavier than she first realised. It was painted a sleek, dark purple with black detailing, and there was a little silver on the edges. Both sisters couldn’t help but admire the craftsmanship that went into the building of such a fearsome weapon.
‘That’s my work there,’ Anahrik said, hovering over the girls like an excited child. ‘See the silver? Took me six days to get it just perfect. Custom order it was for some pompous Goldstone but he decided he wanted it in blue instead of black in the end.’ He put his arms behind his head, and Moroda noted it was a stance he took up frequently when he boasted. ‘Worked out in the end though, we got to keep it. He paid for both no problem, so then we had this one spare to show off the silver and show how it works. Had two more orders after last summer’s trade back home.’ He flashed a smile, and Moroda nodded, unsure of the reaction he was hoping for.
‘You must get used to weight of crossbow, and to aim it, but most importantly, to reload. This is why it is a weapon for you both,’ Palom advised, offering the bolts to Eryn and bringing their attention back to practicalities. ‘How we have this weapon does not matter. Anahrik, we are not selling it.’
‘I know, I know,’ Anahrik waved his hands before putting them in his pocket and strutting over to the edge of the ship. Moroda