The Library of Anukdun (Legend of the White Sword Book 5)

by P. D. Kalnay

  “We should choose a place to make camp,” Falan said. “Best to do so while light remains.”

  “How do we pick one?” There were hundreds nearby from which to choose.

  “We should look for safe moorage on the western side and try to pick one that doesn’t have pirates or dangerous predators.” Falan grinned and shrugged at the same time. “I can determine the first part easily enough…”

  “And I can determine the rest,” Ivy said.

  A long narrow island running north to south lay just ahead on our port bow. Trees covered most of the island, but it had a nice sandy beach on the western side.

  I pointed, “What about that one?”

  “Your boat is sturdy enough to beach,” Falan said. “We’ll row it ashore, stern first.”

  “Why backwards?” I asked.

  “The pump can only push us forward?” Falan asked.

  I nodded. The pump was a one-way deal.

  “If we must leave in a hurry,” Falan said, “we’ll be pointing in the right direction.”

  That made a boatload of sense.

  Falan and I rowed the boat backwards to the sandy shoreline while Ivy tipped up the rudder. We drove the stern up a few feet onto the sand, and Ivy jumped out with a rope, tying up to the nearest large tree. Then she took a knee and pushed her fingertips into the sand. Falan and I followed her onto the beach. It felt good to be standing on land again.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  Ivy looked up and opened her eyes.

  “Checking to see what creatures walk upon this island.” Ivy stood and dusted the sand from her hand. “Nothing of consequence shares the island with us.”

  “You can tell?”

  “My senses can extend farther than this island spreads,” Ivy said. “I’ve left a strand of my aura tied to the land.”

  “Why?”

  “If others arrive, I shall sense their footfalls.”

  “That’s handy.”

  “Yes, now if you’ll excuse me.”

  Ivy walked off into the trees, I assumed to attend to personal matters.

  “Should we make a campfire?” I asked. The pristine white sand beach begged for a campfire. Falan looked at me as though I was a crazy person. “What?”

  “Unless your goal is to summon pirates or worse, a fire would be unwise.” That sounded like a polite way of saying I was an imbecile. “We should cook our evening meal on the stove.”

  Captain Danar had added a small oil burning stove to our supplies, and we’d used it to prepare food and make hot tea. The clever design kept the stovetop upright in the wavy conditions and protected the flames from direct wind. Whenever it was my turn to cook, I considered improvements to the stove’s design. It’d have to wait for another time, but someday I was going to make a camp stove. Maybe an enchanted one that worked on the same principles as the ovens in Marielain’s apartment.

  When Ivy returned, the two of us made camp at the edge of the jungle, while Falan cooked a stew of mixed dried ingredients that his father had added to our stores. We’d yet to touch any of what Ivy packed on Knight’s Haven. After stringing up a simple lean-to, Ivy and I rejoined him for dinner.

  ***

  I woke from a deep sleep somewhere near the middle of the night. The sand made a comfortable bed, but it got everywhere, including in my mouth. Ivy assured us that she’d wake if anybody set foot on the little island and we’d decided not to set a watch. I was about to close my eyes again and go back to sleep when I heard a noise. It came from a long way off and sounded like… drums. A lot of drums. It wasn’t the peppy upbeat drumming common to the bongo, but more of a deep boom, boom, boom, like a cottage-sized taiko drum might make. After deciding that the drummers were miles away, I soon fell back asleep.

  ***

  “Did anybody else hear those drums last night?”

  I’d waited until we were underway again before mentioning it. I was mostly sure I hadn’t dreamt the drumming.

  “They were too distant for me to sense,” Ivy said. She turned to Falan, who maned the tiller, “Do you know anything about those who inhabit the Reaches?”

  “No, Princess, the Reaches are uncharted, except at the outer limits, so that they can be avoided. It is easy to run aground in bad weather and no beacons exist to warn of the dangers. There are a few ports, south of the Reaches and north of the Dun, but they aren’t places that any honest merchant would visit.”

  “What about dishonest merchants?” I asked.

  “Only well-armed or desperate ships chance those ports.”

  Chapter 18 – Lightening the Load

  The plotting of a course through the endless little islands—without getting turned around—would have been challenging minus the compass. We just needed to keep the needle pointing leftward and avoid hitting things. The ease and simplicity of finding our way led to a general laziness, and we were all guilty of it. For a few days we wove through the archipelago and made camp when the sun set. Each night the drumming continued and grew louder. By the fourth night those drums surrounded us, but none sounded too close, and the source remained a mystery.

  Day ten in the Reaches provided the answer.

  ***

  Ivy manned the tiller, and I stood watch in the prow, alert for rocks. In between the islands we’d found few obstacles to navigation and ample depth for our boat, which made things even easier. Falan napped under the mast.

  Watching the water was monotonous, and occasionally, I glanced around searching for more interesting sights. We travelled along the middle of a channel less than fifty feet wide. Bluish stone cliffs rose higher than the mast on either side, limiting the view forward, and cutting our sky down to a narrow strip. I idly wondered if I could make the jump from island to island with the help of my wings, and I hoped we weren’t heading into a dead end that would necessitate backtracking.

  It hadn’t happened yet.

  The pump pushed us steadily forward and Ivy kept us in the middle of the gradually narrowing channel. When we got to a point that was only twice as wide as the boat, I started to worry. We’d have to row backwards a good way to have room to turn the boat.

  “Jack, I sense something up ahead,” Ivy said.

  She spoke no louder than was necessary for her voice to travel the length of the boat. Her words stirred Falan from his nap.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “It’s getting really narrow,” I said at the same time Ivy said, “There is substantial life, ahead of us.”

  “What kind of life?” I asked.

  “I can’t tell. I’m limited away from the land.”

  Ivy slowed the pump to three symbols.

  “Is that a bridge?” Falan pointed up above the channel.

  I followed his finger to a crude rope bridge spanning the top of the channel ahead. As we got closer, I got a better look. The bridge was a primitive tangle of rough rope and short lengths of unsawn timbers. The bridge looked neither safe nor old. Before I could suggest going back, the channel made a tight left-hand turn. I stood at the front, so I saw the village first.

  The channel opened rapidly as two bays cut into the islands on either side, forming a wide, salty lake. It was lined with huts and crude wooden docks. Posts were driven into the seabed along the shoreline, and small, irregular patches of garden filled the spaces between low dome-shaped huts. The doorways of the huts were no taller than my waist. At a glance it looked as if the place might hold a few thousand diminutive residents. There was no sign of them.

  “Maybe it’s abandoned,” I said.

  “No,” Falan said. “There’s smoke.”

  I looked closer, and sure enough, smoke rose from chimney holes in a few of the roofs.

  “I feel many eyes watching us,” Ivy said. “Fear and hatred surround us.”

  “Then I’d say the only question is: do we go back the way we came, or check for another way out?”

  “There’s another channel at the far end,” Falan said, “
but no way of knowing where it leads.”

  I moved back and sat beside the tiller, opposite Ivy, “Why don’t you move forward? If things go poorly, your bow will be handier than my hammer.”

  Ivy collected her bow and quiver and took a middle position while Falan moved to the front. I took us up to cruising speed. None of the unknown villagers showed themselves as we crossed, and by the time we’d sailed past the halfway mark, I spotted the opening. It was more than twice as wide as the channel through which we’d arrived.

  I also got my first look at the locals.

  They were pale-skinned, thickly muscled, stood chest high, and at first glance reminded me of baboons—extra-large albino baboons. Short, dull tusks protruded at random from mouths in faces looking more sea lion than monkey, and curling horns grew from their foreheads, wrapping the sides of their heads. I hadn’t the time for more careful examination. Each carried a short, stone tipped spear and wore rough hides over already hairy bodies. Primitive looking or not, they were organised.

  A large group gathered on either side of the opening. Once we were close those guys cast down their weapons and took hold of a thick line lying at their feet. Then, as one, they pulled a woven rope gate up and across the gap, blocking our passage forward. The rope holders stood well above the water level and the top of the gate was as high as the upswept prow of the boat. The barrier would have stopped any normal sailboat.

  A ragged cheer rose from a thousand throats, followed by a repetitive chant of ‘Blak Lag’.

  Though individually small and less frightening than almost everything else I’d met on the First World, there were a lot of them. I considered turning and leaving the way we’d come. When I glanced back, I learned that the ‘docks’ along the shoreline were actually rafts, and more of the creatures polled enough of them from shore to block the other route.

  I opted for the closer exit.

  “Ivy, Falan, get down, and hold on tight!”

  I took the pump up to seven symbols and the prow shot from the smooth water, lifting well above the woven gate. I had to lean to one side to see where I was going. We'd already gotten too close for the boat to reach full speed, but the prow climbed a foot or two higher before riding up, over the barrier and pushing past. Screams of outrage replaced the chanting. A few spears splashed around me.

  Past the crowd, I reduced the speed to six, dropping the bow. I needed to better visibility in the channel. We’d also hooked the ropey gate and dragged it along on either side of the boat.

  “JACK!” Ivy pointed behind me.

  I glanced back and discovered that a surprising number of the ragged villagers still clung to the now tangled mass of rope. They climbed closer against the press of water. Those guys were impressively strong and tenacious. Up in the prow, Falan used his belt knife to hack at the thick strands of rope hooked on the boat. Ivy stood in the middle with arrow on string, prepared to thwart boarders. She almost fell when Falan cut a last strand and released us from our hangers on, causing the boat to shoot forward. I took the pump down to five symbols—still too fast for anywhere except the open sea.

  My worry, that we would find ourselves in a narrow space, surrounded by enemies was unfounded. A shorter and wider route led us out and away from the islands and the village. The boom, boom, boom of high tempo, angry sounding drums followed us as we passed by smaller islands. I took us slightly off course, being most concerned with escape, and wanting to give us breathing room. When new drums up ahead answered those behind, I slowed the boat and pushed onward with greater caution.

  “I think they use the drums to communicate,” I said.

  My shipmates nodded.

  “Do you know what those people are?” I asked.

  “They are scal riders,” Falan said. “I’ve never heard tell that any live in the Reaches.”

  “Are they the pirates you warned us about?” I asked.

  “No, scal riders are simple folk. They build no proper ships and though they live their lives in and around the sea, they never travel far from shore. Mainly, they fish and scavenge the Endless Sea, claiming coastlines no one else wants. That was an unusually large settlement.”

  More drums joined the chorus while he spoke.

  “It sounds like there are plenty more where those came from,” I said.

  “We must be more alert from now on,” Ivy said.

  I couldn’t argue with that.

  ***

  Sporadic drumming followed us until sunset. We chose a smaller island than usual for our campsite that night. It was just a flat slab of rock with a few trees growing in the middle, but it had the advantages of being more isolated than the norm and small enough that we could complete a visual inspection before landing. The endless drumming together with a new need to keep watch meant that sleep became less satisfying. Nothing threatened us that first night or for the days that followed.

  Falan said he’d seen scal riders spying on us from a distance, but I’d seen nothing, and when we left the last of the drums behind, I breathed a figurative sigh of relief.

  ***

  Shortly after our reprieve from the endless drumming, the fine weather ended. The total lack of cover in the boat made the rain unpleasant, even with my shimersilk cloak. It was nothing compared to the Maelstrom, but after a few days of nonstop rain, everything was wet.

  We made camp early, strung up a roomy lean-to, and tried to dry out. Falan choose us a good sized island with a sandy beach below a rocky ridge that afforded a view, depending on the weather. There was nothing to which I might tie the boat, so I sat my hammer on top of the anchor chain to secure it. Falan had a go at freeing the chain and then declared us docked for the night.

  ***

  “Jack,” Ivy’s voice whispered in my ear.

  “Huh?”

  “They’ve surrounded us,” Ivy said.

  I sat up, trying to shake off the shackles of sleepiness. Rain still pelted the tarp in an endless thrumming.

  “There are many scal riders by the boat and across the island. I didn’t sense them until a few stepped onto land.”

  I saw well enough in the dark to determine that Ivy had her bow at the ready. Falan was awake too. He’d drawn his curved knife and crouched on the far side of our shelter. My hammer was below, but I had taken my shield from the boat. I pushed my metal hand through the strap.

  “We can’t stay here,” I said.

  I stepped out into the deluge, and then I moved to the edge of the short cliff. There was movement below, but between the cloudy night and the heavy rain, I couldn’t make out details. Then a fork of lightning joined the sky to the summit of the next isle across from us. The world below was lit in an illuminating flash.

  In that moment of clarity, I saw the shiny eyes of the scal riders who were emptying the hold of our boat. Most of our boxes and barrels already made their bobbing way out to sea, towed behind the enormous bodies of creatures I assumed were scal. Under the circumstances, I could only tell that they were the size of killer whales.

  Three of the thieves attempted to pry the compass free of its mount with spear tips, and others bundled the sails with our precious supply of rope. A small troop of them circled my hammer, pulling or pushing on the handle in a vain try at freeing the anchor chain, and while stealing the boat was impossible, they were doing an excellent job of stripping it clean.

  “They’re taking our stuff!” I shouted above the thunder.

  Lightning lit the world again, and I found the eyes on me. We needed those supplies, so I jumped from the cliff without a second thought, shouting and hoping to seem intimidating. I don’t know if that worked or if the thieves were merely happy with their spoils, but they’d scattered by the time I reached my hammer. The few still in the boat dove into the sea and reappeared on the backs of scal. A whole bloody tribe of them dispersed into the night, taking most of the boat’s contents with them. Ivy and Falan joined me while I unwound the chain from the hammer’s handle.

  “We have to go a
fter them,” I said. “They’ve got our stuff!”

  Ivy had an arrow on string, but she looked torn over whether to shoot. Falan wasted no time pushing the boat into the water, and we followed him onboard.

  “Falan, you drive. Ivy, you’re the lookout—I’ll collect our things!”

  Falan drove us the last bit off of the sand and back out to sea. The emptied boat sat higher in the water. Then he started the bilge pump, and the boat rose even higher as it evacuated the accumulated rainwater. The scal riders and our luggage travelled in every direction. Even before the chase began… I knew we wouldn’t be able to retrieve all of it.

  “There—to port,” Ivy shouted.

  Falan heeled the boat to the left. We soon gained on a guy with one of our barrels set in front of him. Just before we reached them, the scal dove, and rider and mount disappeared from sight. The barrel popped back up a second later and I scooped it from the water. It must have been too buoyant to hold on to. I set the near empty water cask in the boat.

  “Another one, there!” Ivy shouted.

  Falan heeled the boat the other way, following her finger. I came close to going for a swim. The next guy had the small chest that held our charts. He never saw us coming. I punched him as we shot alongside and snatched the sealed chest from his grasp. Then he also dove from sight. I wished I’d hit his rock hard head with my metal hand instead.

  “Over there!” Ivy shouted…

  ***

  Between the darkness, the rain, and our quarries ability to dive under the water for extended periods of time, our pursuit proved only a limited success. None of the thieves fought back, but there were so many that we couldn’t chase all of them and most got away—along with over half of our supplies. In one careless night we’d gone from well-stocked to impoverished.

  The rain ended and patches of blue cut holes in the cloudy sky when dawn arrived. We were exhausted, soaked, disheartened by the miserable scavenger hunt, and the boat was distressingly empty. Falan took us back to our camp to collect our shelter and the supplies we’d taken ashore. Then we spent a depressing hour re-stowing and taking inventory. To that point we had eaten as much as we wanted with no consideration of rationing. Those days were behind us.