Taerak's Void

by M. R. Mathias

"I was worried about you," he admitted. "I thought maybe Baragon's men or that student of magus, who wants my medallion, got ahold of you."

  "No, I was talking to a friend about possibly helping hunt down some grave robbers." She put her hands on her hips and twisted her mouth. "It seems an epidemic of coffin stealing is happening all along the coast. There is a hefty reward for their capture."

  Braxton looked at his boots, feeling dejected. "So, what are you going to do?"

  "You found a ship to take you to Jolin?" she asked.

  "Yes, I did."

  "Did you secure a berth?"

  "Yes." He dreaded what she was about to say.

  "For one or two people?"

  Braxton hoped he wasn’t about to make a fool out of himself, but he hoped she would go with him. "Two people and two horses, paid in full." He spoke the words while looking at his boots. He just knew he was about to have to say goodbye to her.

  Instead of laughter, or rejection, he felt her draw close. On the inside, he could have howled out with joy when she kissed his cheek.

  "I guess I'm going with you then," she said. "I only need to round up a few personal items." Then she went to Bolt's saddle bag and began rummaging through it.

  Chapter Fourteen

  For Braxton's ten pieces of gold, they were given three of twelve narrowly built horse stalls in a large closed in area that was also inhabited by two dozen goats. The straw that covered the plank floor was moist and clumped in most places, and neither he nor Nixy cared to find out what the gooey wetness was. Lantern use was forbidden in the area, but a small square door, over every stall allowed them a small amount of fresh air. After putting the horses in individual stalls, they used the moonlight that filtered in to sweep out the third space. Once that was done they blocked it off with blankets as best as they could to keep the goats from wandering in.

  Neither Braxton or Nixy had been on a ship before, so they decided to go up top to watch the departure from the docks and the coming sunrise. Captain Pickerell bellowed commands to his small crew, and then ordered Braxton and Nixy to sit on some crates that smelled of fish. The crates were surrounded by barrels and casks of various liquids that had been lashed around the boxed cargo, creating an area that seemed safe enough. It was uncrowded and offered them an excellent view of the bay on both sides of the ship while keeping them out from under foot of the busy crew.

  Gizzen Blath couldn't believe his good fortune. He'd figured he would have to hide for hours, even days, just to get a chance to sneak down into the depths of this awful ship to sink his blade into the farm boy and steal the medallion. What he would do after he killed him, he wasn't sure, but he figured that, with the two hundred pieces of gold the medallion would bring him, he could pay off the captain and crew.

  His plan was far simpler now. All he had to do was leave his hiding place among the barrels, kill the lad, and take the medallion. Once he had it, he could jump ship for they were still in the bay.

  Gizzen scanned the deck in the moonlight and planned his steps carefully, for this would be a swift assassination. His hand found the hilt of his dagger, and then a sudden banging noise from directly beside him caused him to nearly yell out. He had to literally bite his tongue to keep from squealing in fright.

  Careful inspection of the area told him there was no one there. It had to have been a rat, he decided, or cargo shifting from the slow rolling motion of the ship. He took a few deep breaths and calmed his thumping heart. It was nothing. The time was ripe to get the medallion, and he went back to planning his move so he could do it as smoothly as possible.

  Braxton enjoyed the cool salty air and the torch and lantern-dotted shoreline they slid past. He couldn't deny he was also enjoying the presence of Nixy so close beside him.

  Inside, he debated whether or not he should put his arm around her, fearing a violent reaction, or just rejection, but mostly a harsh response. He just couldn't tell if she liked him or not.

  Of course, she liked him, she'd told him so back in the woods before they'd reached Stell. But did she like him in any meaningful sort of way? Or did she just like him and his coins? After a few moments, he decided not to worry about it. It was enough that she was there beside him, enjoying the feel of the breeze and the bob and sway of the ship.

  He'd been on a boat twice in his life. Both times in the Vasting River. He didn't count the crude raft he and Davvy had built and fished from on the lake as a boat. Both times on a real watercraft had been simple rides from the dock just below the lake's dam to the town's main loading dock by Berger's store. Both boats had been a quarter of the size of Luck of the Little. Neither relied on sails. They were row boats when travelling upriver and could drift on the powerful current when moving downstream.

  Braxton suddenly realized how far from home he was. For the first time in his life, the friendly and familiar river was nowhere near.

  The sound of footsteps hurrying up from behind caused Braxton and Nixy to both turn around just in time to see a hooded man with a long shining knife get smacked violently off his feet by a barrel lid. The lid was wielded by a wet, gnarled-looking thing that hung out of one of the barrel casks.

  Braxton jumped back, and Nixy screamed. Then the beacon dish the captain had been aiming in front of the ship swing around and illuminated the scene.

  Several angry looking mannish little things burst out of the barrels. They were hairy and coughing and sputtering curses that Braxton was surprised he could understand. One of them, the one who had whacked the hooded man, who Braxton decided was the same hooded figure he'd seen back on the docks, sat proudly on the back of the unconscious, would-be assassin. It reminded him of Nixy sitting on Hertzell's back, only this little bugger was nowhere near as beautiful, and it was… it was…it spoke.

  "Pickerell, who had the grand ideer for us to hide in them barrels?"

  "Yeh," another of the wet hairy things added.

  One of the things fell out of another barrel and stumbled crazily sideways with the motion of the ship. The disoriented little guy nearly went over the rail and into the sea and was only stopped from it when a hand came down out of the rigging and grabbed him by the head of his hair. Another walked over to that particular barrel, stood on his tiptoes to get his head above the edge, and sniffed at its contents with a huge bulbous nose.

  "Wine!" he yelled angrily. "My barrel was full of fish oil." He glared at the bright light the captain shined at him. "Yee could have put me in wine too, yee fat bastard." He started angrily toward the light but tripped over the assassin and landed face first right at Braxton's feet.

  All the wet, hairy little buggers burst into laughter when the raging, fallen thing tried to regain his feet but slipped in the pool of fish oil his soaked clothes left on the deck.

  "Dwarves?" Braxton blurted out as he realized what they were. He also realized Nixy was clinging tightly to him. When she realized he’d noticed, she quickly let go, but she was laughing with the rest of them as the angry dwarf slipped and slid and fell again.

  "Of course, we be dwarves, boy," one of them said. "And yee'd be long dead had Darblin there not saved you from that one."

  Braxton looked at the hooded man on the deck. The dwarf atop him stood and bowed as gracefully as the ships movements would allow.

  The fish oil coated dwarf tried to stand again and failed. More laughter ensued, and a fat skin of what had to be potent liquor was passed around. The stuff had to be as stout as it gets to overpower the smell of all the fish oil and mackerel that was scattered across the deck now.

  One of the dwarves started singing a song, and the others joined in. A moment later, dawn pinkened the sky, and the Luck of the Little found the larger swells that made their way into the mouth of the bay from the open sea.

  Braxton and Nixy sipped from the skin when it was passed to them, and the strength of the drink had them both feeling dizzy and clinging to each other, not so much out of affection, but to keep the dipping and tossing of the ship from unseating them
.

  A few of the dwarves strung up the assassin. They'd managed to get his name when he tried to bribe them. Gizzen Blath now dangled by his feet from a crossbeam. His rope had enough slack in it that he swung a long lazy arc to and fro as the ship rolled with the swells. Twice he'd thumped into the thick mainmast, causing an explosion of laughter from the dwarves.

  Later, around mid-morning, Grizzen Blath spewed forth vomit that rained down on most of the singing dwarves. The bulk of them went straight to the rail and a chain reaction of regurgitation ensued. Since then, the assassin had been cut down and tied standing to the base of the mainmast.

  By midday, three fourths of the dwarves were hanging over the side of the ship vomiting. Braxton, too ill to speak, was with them. The long-bearded, stumpy little men were cursing and moaning and as angry as could be.

  The only two on board who hadn't succumbed to sea sickness, besides the captain and crew, were Nixy and a green-haired dwarf named Gruval. Gruval, Braxton learned, was the younger brother of Darblin, the blue-haired bugger who had saved Braxton.

  Besides seeing that the dwarves had strange brightly colored hair, Braxton noticed Nixy had taken to Gruval. She laughed and joked with him and the captain all morning.

  When he seemed sure that the dwarves had emptied their stomachs of all their contents, Captain Pickerell had Gruval and Nixy help them all below to a livestock pen similar to the goat pen, only this one had been left empty. When that was done, Nixy helped Braxton to their empty horse stall where he quickly curled into a fetal ball on the blanket she laid out for him and fell into a deep sleep.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Braxton woke to a commotion up on the deck. He rose swiftly, remembering the assassin and all the wild, colorfully haired dwarves. His eagerness to see what was going on now hit a wall when the pain in his head presented itself. Like an anvil receiving blows from an experienced blacksmith's hammer, his temples thumped raw pain with his every heartbeat, and the clamoring sounds from above reverberated like thunder between his ears. He sat there rubbing his head, trying to lessen the pain until he heard Nixy yell out.

  The surge of fear and angst that came with her voice was enough to get him out of the stall, through the goat pen, and up into the bright mid-morning light that beamed on deck. The sun's rays seared through his eye sockets, making the hammer blows from moments ago seem like an angel's caress. If he would have had anything in his roiling stomach, it would have come up, but it was empty so the heaving that assailed him was dry and racked his aching body from head to toe.

  When he finally recovered, he rolled to his back and saw Nixy looking down, shading his eyes from the sun with her body. Her blood-spattered face showed nothing less than concern. Blood!

  "What happened?" he asked groggily and reached up to her face. His thumb found a droplet and smeared crimson across her cheek. "Are you—?"

  "Shhh," she hissed with an unexpected smile. "Here, drink this."

  He nearly choked, and then heaved again when the gritty, foul tasting stuff she poured in his mouth hit him. She held his mouth shut until he swallowed, and he was surprised to find he relaxed instantly. Once the stuff hit his stomach, he felt much better. So much so he asked for another sip. After the second swallow, he was able to stand and move around with almost no pain at all.

  It was obvious Nixy wasn't hurt. The blood had clearly come from the flayed assassin, who leaned limply against the mast pole. Only his bindings kept him from slumping all the way to the deck. His pale white flesh was crisscrossed with bright, dripping stripes of scarlet. He appeared to be dead, or very near to death. Captain Pickerell's right pant leg was smeared with dried brown blood and newer, wetter looking stains as well. They'd come from the split end of the whip coiled at his belt, where it swayed back and forth across his thigh.

  Several of the crew, and a few of the dwarves, stared at Braxton slack-jawed, with expectant looks in their eyes. Everyone Braxton could see was speckled head to toe with tiny red dots.

  Why are they all looking at me? Braxton thought, and then glanced behind him to make sure a three-headed fish wasn't hovering over his head or something.

  Nixy must have read the confusion in his gaze. "He told them about your medallion.” She indicated the assassin, who made a loud guttural sound and shivered spastically a moment before slumping back against his bindings. "The student of magus who hired him was kicked out of the Sorcerious. He is named Reaton Stav, and he has put out the word to more than just Baragon. There is a very hefty bounty for that thing hanging around your neck. Easily enough for an assassin to try and kill you in the open to get it."

  Braxton took in this information with an audible gulp.

  "I told them all," she chirped happily, "that it is a powerful artifact, and that you would use it to turn them all into crickets if they even think about trying to take it from you."

  Crickets? He mouthed in astonishment. That explained the expectant looks he was getting.

  "I don’t want to be turned into no cricket, man," a snaggle-toothed deck hand said with so much sincerity Braxton almost laughed at him. "I didn't mean to think it, I swear."

  "Nor I," bellowed the captain, "but he will not do such a thing `cause he paid hard coin up front for safe passage, and I be an honorable captain. I will flay any man or dwarf who attempts to take what belongs to him."

  "Can I see it?" The blue-haired dwarf called Darblin asked.

  Braxton didn't really want to display it but found it hard to refuse a request from the very dwarf who'd saved him from Grizzen Blath's dagger. Reluctantly, he pulled it from his collar. The gem caught the sun in spectacular fashion. It caused all who saw it to duck or step back in fear and awe. The gem magnified the sunlight. When it caught, Darblin's fat, gnarled face seemed to glow in broad daylight. Cautiously, he stepped closer.

  The dwarf's breath reeked of liquor so badly that Braxton had to fight to keep from retching, but he could help but notice the pure wonder in the dwarf’s eyes.

  "Platinum it be," Darblin called over his shoulder. He met Braxton's eyes and nodded in appreciation. "Never seen the likes of it. Might be a diamond set inside, but there are more facets than my eyes have ever seen on a single gem."

  The snaggle-toothed deck hand fell to his knees beside them. "Honest. I'm not wanting to be thinking what I am." His look was pleading. "I just can't help myself."

  Braxton couldn’t help but laugh at the perfectly preposterous situation. He put the medallion back in his shirt and turned to Nixy. "What was that gritty stuff you gave me? It made me feel great." He took her hand in his and quickly pulled her toward the front of the ship, hoping to get a word in private.

  "What do you mean telling them such a thing?" He asked, trying to contain anger that was already dissipating due to her smile.

  "The crew was arguing about the bounty with the dwarves. It was all I could think of to stay them."

  "I can't believe they believed you." Braxton let his angst go with a sigh.

  "You should know the dwarves argued on your behalf." She turned away and looked at the sea as if some answer might be waiting on the wave tops. "They are going to Jolin to seek council with elves, too."

  "About what? How long have I been asleep?"

  "This is the second morning since we left port." She grinned. "Gruval didn't tell me why, but it has to be very important for the dwarves to come out of a few centuries of hiding to make this journey." She squeezed his hand, and they both looked at the onrushing sea.

  Braxton tried speaking with Darblin and Gruval for a while, just after sunset, but they were so drunk that comprehending their slurred words was all but impossible, so Braxton gave up and went below deck.

  Nixy slept soundly in the warm, stuffy stall. Braxton opened several of the square windows to let the air circulate, hoping to cool it down a little bit. He noticed there was enough moonlight to read by, and he excitedly pulled the book out of his pack, sat down very near to Nixy, and using his medallion to make the text legible
, he began to read from the beginning.

  I made this journal to help you on your way. My time, as I have known for many seasons, is coming to an end. But my time is also just about to begin.

  I've earned my passing, and that is no small thing to do.

  I've warded these words to the amulet. If you possess one, you should possess the other. By its own nature, the amulet will only work for one who is worthy. If you are reading these words, you have been chosen, so to speak. Your journey will be both wondrous and devastating, for you are destined to become a warrior of the righteous.

  The first thing you need to know is that you are not alone. There are two other amulets, and together they are most powerful. When worked together, they can open the gates to the heavens or the hells, they can control the elements, and command forces far more powerful than you can yet imagine. Each amulet is worn, or will be, by another such as you. This is by design, for one being cannot be allowed to wield such power unchecked, but that is not for now. For now, you must learn.

  It will take some time for you to grasp the nature of the power and bend it to your will. When the time comes, you will be called to the Summit, and there, the other two warriors of the righteous will reveal themselves.

  Rest now, Braxton Bray. There are things you must accomplish alone before you can even start the climb.

  Braxton read and reread his name but couldn't read beyond that section no matter how hard he tried. The amulet wouldn't translate anymore. He yawned and found he felt very tired. It was all he could do to put the book away before a deep sleep overtook him.

  He dreamt, and the dream was clear and vivid. He was in the cavern by the lake where Davvy had almost died, where one of the poor fisherman had died. The creature that had killed him used its long tentacles to corner Braxton, but just before it sank its sharp beak-like maw into his chest, it stopped and spoke: