The Book of Deacon Anthology

by Joseph R. Lallo

  “Go,” Goldie said to the workers. “The instructions are quite clear. I will transfer the beast according to the client's specifications. No sense risking too many members of the crew.”

  The men gratefully retreated. A moment later, Lain slipped into the hidden room, and Goldie clicked the passage shut behind. He opened the top to the crate and helped Sorrel and the twins out. She sniffed the air and peered in disgust at the surroundings. Goldie pointed first to the troughs on the floor of the cage, then the ones beneath.

  “Food and water come in there. Leavings fall through there. Once a day, workers will leave one and take the other. The wood is good and thick. With this door shut, you can make a fair amount of noise without alerting anyone. It isn't luxury, but it will get you there alive, and without prying eyes,” he said dispassionately.

  “It is horrid,” Sorrel growled.

  “You don't have many options,” Goldie said. “Now, move—quickly. This ship is to leave within the hour.”

  Sorrel stepped into the cage, her children hopping in to stay with her. She reached out to Lain. He took her hands. It was a solemn moment. In the short time since they had been reunited, Lain had already forgotten how he'd ever lived without her. He had hoped that when this time came, he would have the words to express his joy and sorrow and finding and losing her again so soon, emotions he'd thought had died long ago. No words came. He simply stared into her eyes, and she stared back. Finally, she spoke.

  “Come with me,” she said.

  “I . . .” he began, unprepared for such a request.

  “Do not tell me you do not want to. Do not tell me you can look at these children and say you do not feel the need to see them grow.” Fresh tears were running down her face now.

  “I do.”

  “Then come with me.”

  “I cannot. There are things here that need to be done.”

  “Things that need to be done,” she muttered. “Always you are doing things because they need to be done, or they are right to do, or because other people want you to do them. You can find a way to serve your purpose in the new land, and maybe you can be happy there, too! For once in your life, do something because you want to do it!”

  She stared with agonizing intensity into his eyes.

  “Look, stay or go,” Goldie barked. “I can smuggle four as easily as three, but make your decision! The longer we delay this ship, the more likely they'll hold it for a search.”

  When the words finally left Lain's mouth, they came directly from his heart, skipping his mind entirely. “I will go with you.”

  Sorrel rushed to him and squeezed him tight, openly sobbing as he squeezed her back.

  “Fine, fine. Into the cage with you,” Goldie said.

  Lain stepped inside, the cage door was closed and latched, and the hidden door sealed. For a long while, there were no words. Just a tight, prolonged embrace, copious tears, and thoughts of the future.

  #

  Lain and Sorrel spoke for a long time. They spoke with hope and enthusiasm of things to come and lands awaiting them. The journey would be an unpleasant one, but they would be making it together. As the minutes rolled on, though the part of each creature that had become sensitive to bad omens and festering plans began to invade their sanctuary. Lain was forced to pull his mind from the bliss and back to reality.

  “Gohveen . . . something is wrong,” Sorrel stated.

  “Yes. It has been well over an hour. The ship should have been on its way by now,” he said.

  She tightened her fists. “It is fine. It will be fine. They are still loading, something like that.” She spoke hopefully, but there was doubt in her voice.

  “We shall see.”

  Lain pulled his sword from its scabbard and passed the blade between the slats on the latch end of the cage door. It was a simple door, built to keep wild animals inside, and as such it was locked by way of a simple hinged brace that was easily lifted aside. Lain quietly pushed the cage door open enough to squeeze out. He closed the cage again and climbed on top, pressing his sensitive ear to the ceiling. Hearing nothing of specific concern above, he put his ear to the ventilation slit.

  “What is it?” Sorrel asked.

  He closed his eyes. “Raised voices. Someone on the deck of the next ship over is arguing.”

  “About what?”

  “The captain of the ship is demanding to see an official proclamation of some kind. The other man says he doesn't need one . . . that voice.”

  “What? Who is it?”

  Before Lain could answer, the sound of the hidden plank being pulled aside drew their attention.

  “Mally!” hissed Goldie's voice, whispering through the opening. “We've got trouble. I don't know why, but the man responsible for half of my shipments is on the docks. He is demanding each ship let him personally inspect the hold. He is looking for malthropes!”

  “Duule!”

  “You know of him?”

  “I claimed the bounty on him once.”

  “That was you!? Did you feel as though there weren't enough people who wanted you dead? No matter. This is a problem. He's got blood in his eyes, I can feel it. I hesitate to think of what will happen to me and my crew, let alone the lot of you, if he finds out we are hiding you.”

  “Take the ship away! Take it to sea! We can run!” Sorrel urged.

  “The harbor patrol is in his pocket. They are holding us here, and he could easily close this harbor if he felt the need. Somehow he is convinced there is a malthrope on board one of these ships.”

  The hidden door slid open, and Goldie found himself face to face with Lain, startling the already frantic elf.

  “The deal is off. You may have saved my life seven years ago, but it is no good to me if I lose it now. He won't rest until he finds a malthrope, and I'll be damned if I let him find it on one of my ships.”

  Lain lowered his head. “If he will not rest until he finds a malthrope, then we must give him one,” he said. “I will make my way onto the ship he is trying to search now, and I will draw his men away.”

  “No!” Sorrel gasped.

  “It . . . may work. I might be able to get this ship moving once Duule is off the docks, but you'll have to keep him off the docks until we pass the harbor buoys. If he suspects we've still got something to hide, a few rings of the harbor bells and we'll be stopped and brought back.”

  “Fine.”

  “No, Teyn, we will find another way!” Sorrel cried.

  Lain pulled open the cage and held Sorrel one last time. “I am sorry. It has to be this way. Men like Duule are everywhere, and threats like this will always follow me. I can't go with you if it means I would bring that upon you. At least let me ensure that you have your chance.”

  Sorrel choked back tears and took his hand, pressing it to her cheek. “If ever I meet the gods, I will demand that they tell me what you could have done to anger them so.” Finally, she turned to the twins, who were huddled fearfully in the corner. She called to them, her voice faltering. “Wren, Reyna. Come. Say goodbye to Teyn. Say thank you.”

  The little ones came reluctantly forward, and Lain crouched to meet them eye to eye. Though he doubted they understood what was happening, tears were in their eyes as well. He lowered his head, and the children lowered theirs, pressing their brows against his as he stroked their heads one last time. He held the moment for as long as he dared, then stood and looked to Sorrel.

  “Live well,” he said. He then pulled his hood up and darted through the cargo hold.

  His heart was screaming in pain, and his vision was blurred with tears, but he forced it all aside. There was a job to do now, more important than he'd ever done before. His motions were fluid and flawless as he weaved his way to the decks. The eyes of the sailors were turned to the spectacle on the deck of the ship being boarded by Duule. All eyes were watching the escalation on its decks. It was that alone that kept him from view as he threaded among the canvas-strapped crates and bundles littering the deck a
nd made his way to the edge of The Path of the Sun. Cutting along the railing and charging for the back of the ship, he spotted the loading arms that had hoisted Sorrel's crate to the ship. The ropes were still dangling from their ends.

  His mind worked at the angles, and with a confident leap he hurled himself of the edge of the ship, catching the rope on the way down and swinging in a long arc over the water. He released the rope at a calculated moment and hurtled through the air, catching the anchor line of the ship currently under scrutiny. With ease, he scaled the line and the side of the ship, pulling himself onto the deck. The screaming of the captain and Duule was still enough to keep the monster among the crew from immediately gaining notice.

  Duule was standing, flanked by towering henchmen. To his left was Dihsaad, the tracker's hand clutching at the leashes of three hounds with noses to the ground. Lain silently heaved open a chest on the deck. It was filled with coiled rope, but there was just enough space to conceal him. He slipped inside and waited to be discovered.

  “Listen to me,” Duule growled. “I don't care who you are or what rights you think you have. If you value your life, you will stand aside and let my men search your ship.”

  “This is an outrage! Why would I harbor a malthrope?” demanded the captain.

  “It may have boarded your ship without your notice. This creature is wily,” remarked Dihsaad.

  The hounds began to bay and pull at their leashes.

  “And what is this?” Duule fumed. He turned to his men. “I am through being civil. Clear the way.”

  His men descended on the assembled sailors, shoving the smaller men aside and threatening the larger ones. Voices began to rise and blades were drawn as Duule's men further intruded, but he commanded them forward. Finally, Dihsaad's hounds reached the chest, scratching at it and howling.

  “Open it!” Duule ordered.

  The nearest of the henchmen reached for the lid, but before he could touch it Lain burst from within. Chaos erupted. Duule and the captain alike screamed orders at their men. Lain sprinted across the deck, his own weapon still in its scabbard. Duule directed his men forward, charging after the beast. Dihsaad released his hounds, which eagerly made chase. By the time Lain made it to the streets, it seemed that half of Delti had converged there to see the cause of the commotion.

  With one vaulting leap, he grasped the edge of a low roof and hauled himself up, springing from building to building in plain sight but out of reach.

  #

  Goldie reached the deck of The Path of the Sun just in time to see Lain vanish into the thick of the city, a veritable mob on his heels. He scanned the decks of the ship until he spotted the captain at the top of the gangplank.

  “Ho there! What is keeping us in port? We are losing the day!” Goldie called out.

  A greasy-looking thug on the dock side of the gangplank answered. “I am keeping you here until Duule says otherwise.”

  “With all due respect, sir,” Goldie began, marching over to Duule's lackey, “I would think by now that it was clear that Duule found what he was looking for.”

  “You don't leave until he says so.”

  “He was looking for a malthrope. He found it on the other ship. Do you honestly think he would find another one here? The filthy things aren't exactly a valued export.”

  “You stay.”

  Goldie looked desperately to the horizon, then back to the lackey. “You represent Duule's interests, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  The elf stepped close, speaking so that only the man could hear. “The hull of this ship is stuffed with, among other things, a king's ransom of contraband being sold by Duule himself. Much of it is perishable, and all of it is worth more than your life or mine. Now, do you see that dark patch in the sky to the northeast? That is a storm. A storm we are hoping to beat. If you delay us any longer, we will sail through that patch of bad weather. Perhaps it will delay us, and half of our shipment will spoil. Perhaps it will sink us, and all of that precious cargo will be lost. Duule knows you are holding this boat, correct?”

  The man nodded.

  “Then he will know that it was your fault that it was delayed. Now, which do you think he would prefer: earning a fortune because you wisely let us go, or losing a fortune because you held us to allow him to search for something he'd already found?”

  It did not take the man long to come to a decision.

  “You're all right. Head out!”

  “Wise decision,” Goldie commended, signaling the captain.

  #

  Lain's retreat took him to the edge of the city. It was a tricky thing to keep far enough ahead to avoid capture but near enough to keep the pursuers on his tail. Some of Duule's men were armed with crossbows—and, unlike other times that he'd been pursued by similarly-equipped individuals, they were not shy about firing them when innocents might be caught in the crossfire. He quickened his pace, heading for a row of bluffs to the north of the city. There, at least, stray shots would not find their way into a crowd. When this day was through, he would have enough blood on his hands without having to worry about people whose only crime was standing too near.

  The city began to thin, and the roar of the crowd faded. Behind him, he now heard the pounding of hoofs. Duule and his men had taken to horses, and without the crowded streets to contend with, they were gaining ground. Since their prey had remained visible, they had managed to outrun their hounds. Lain pushed himself harder, leading them as far from the city as he could. The ground was sloping upward when the first bolts of a crossbow, fired wildly from horseback, began to streak past. He cast a glance over his shoulder. There were six horses. One carried Duule, lagging far behind. Two carried men with crossbows, now attempting to load and draw them while at full gallop. Dihsaad rode a fourth horse, and the remainder were ridden by swordsmen.

  Lain looked to the sea now. Against the climbing sun, he could see the familiar sails of The Path of the Sun just beginning to pull away from the docks. He looked back to the path ahead. It was leading to a stretch of sandy ground overlooking the city. Behind him, the sound of rope cutting through the air buzzed to life. An instant later cords and weights wound themselves around his ankles, sending him hard to the ground. He pulled from his belt a pair of daggers and rolled to his back. With two deft motions, he let them fly. Each one buried itself in the throat of a crossbow-wielding thug. A few moments more was all it took for the other horses to surround him. He pulled a third dagger and severed the ropes binding his ankles. By the time he made it to his feet, the riders were dismounting. He pulled his sword and bared his teeth.

  “Kill him! Kill him, kill him, kill him!” bellowed Duule.

  The swordsmen descended upon him, battle-notched longswords at the ready. Lain raised the black blade in one hand and the dagger in the other. The clash began. The men he faced were strong, but slow. They heaved their weapons with all of their strength, and where they clashed with the black blade, sparks scattered and flew. Dihsaad dismounted and drew a whip from his belt, lashing at Lain whenever it seemed he would gain the upper hand, and attempting to entangle one or both of his weapons.

  The battle raged for minutes, Lain's speed and skill keeping him just barely from harm. The stress of blocking such powerful blows, it seemed, was beginning to take its toll, as the blows came nearer to their marks with each moment. Finally, with a roar of effort, the malthrope swiped the sword through the air with blinding speed. There was a horrid screech and a blinding flash as his masterpiece of a weapon sheared through the blade of one of the longswords. Lain took advantage of the distraction to deliver a punishing kick to the fingers of the swordsman who was still armed, prompting a howl of pain as he dropped the weapon and clutched a clearly broken hand.

  Dihsaad lashed his whip, finally meeting his mark. Lain's sword jerked from his fingers, the weapon entangled. The disarmed swordsman dove upon the malthrope and began to rain blows upon him. Lain deflected some, but more and more of them began to connect. He swiped wit
h the dagger, but the enraged thug with the shattered hand seized the wrist with his healthy one and wrenched it hard, knocking the weapon from Lain's hand and leaving him unarmed.

  “Restrain him!” Duule ordered.

  The healthiest of the henchmen wrestled Lain's wrists behind his back. Duule smiled and dismounted. He leaned down and plucked the black blade from where it had fallen.

  “Quite a weapon you've found,” Duule said, admiring it. “You were gone for quite a while. What was it? Four years? Five maybe? See, any proper creature—any thinking creature—would have known to stay away. It would have known that I am not a man to be trifled with. I was actually banking on it. A rather powerful sorceress who seemed to hate you as much as I came to me after you'd been gone for a while. She wanted to know if you were dead. She made it very clear that she wanted to hear me say yes. I was glad to do so, assuming you'd either drowned or wised up. But not you. You're a blasted malthrope, so you come back. You fall into the old ways because you don't know anything else.”

  “I do not think you should take him so lightly, Duule. Finish him quickly,” Dihsaad advised, kicking the fallen dagger away and then retreating to a safer distance.