“Breaching that line is impossible.”
Aylin, without moving from where she stood, inspected every inch of the top deck, scouring it for a solution.
“What if we left the ship here?” she asked, staring at the rowboats.
“Pass them in those? They’ll decimate us.”
“Not if they can’t see us.”
Thomas squinted.
“Fog. If we have it extend from here to there,” said Aylin, pointing towards the blanket of white, “they won’t be able to see us. We can lower the rowboats and sneak past them.”
“They’ll hear the splashing of the oars against the water. We need something to distract them.” Thomas paused, licking his lips in thought. “We can use the ship.”
“How?”
“We turn it that way. Then we bring the fog, but we make sure that it only extends as high as a few feet below the masts’ tallest point; to them, it’ll look like we miscalculated. We use the cover of the fog to lower the boats and reroute the ship—have it go back to Zavonia. They’ll see the sails and think that we are leaving.”
“Good,” said Aylin, nodding her head. “Wait! The dhazegs. I’ll send word to the councilors so that they know to retrieve them.”
“Fill their troughs. I’ll ready the boats. Kaia, get the others.”
Kaia ran below deck. First she went into the girls’ communal room. Elania and Ani were seated, conversing with one another—though their lips moved not. Kaia strode over to her bed and grabbed her bag.
“Get your things and go to the top deck,” said Kaia to Elania. “We have to leave this ship.”
“What?”
“We are to enter Mar—now.”
“Really?”
“Yes! Get your things.”
Kaia crossed the hall into the boys’ communal room. Raelon and Bennett were lying on their backs, staring at the ceiling. She repeated what she had just told Elania. The princes scrambled to their feet and reached for their bags and weapons.
“Your brothers?” asked Kaia.
“In the dining hall,” said Bennett.
Kaia passed the wooden mural of the sandal-clad boy and entered the dining hall. Ashner was stuffing food into his face. Lyon and Warrin sat across from one another, chatting. Kaia delivered unto them the message.
Pelliab, she remembered, as she left the room.
Kaia knocked on the kingsman’s door. “It’s time,” she informed him.
“Very well,” he responded, dazed.
When Kaia emerged onto the top deck with the others, the black line of ships had begun to move towards them.
“Change of plans,” said Thomas. “Our path is being blocked. We will enter Mar by boat.”
“What?” cried Warrin.
“Who are they?” asked Raelon.
Thomas brought his hands to rest on his hips. “We don’t know. They won’t answer our messages.”
Aylin emerged and strode towards the helm.
“Three to two boats and four to the third,” ordered Thomas, pointing to either side of him.
“They’ll crush us,” said Raelon.
“No, they won’t. We have a plan to lead them away. Move quickly!”
Kaia, Elania, and Ani went over to the vessel’s starboard side. Bennett and Warrin joined them. Insee soared into the sky and vanished.
“Ready?” asked Aylin.
“Almost,” said Thomas, trotting—along with Pelliab and Raelon—to the ship’s port side. He pointed at the boat next to the Stones’ as he spoke to Aylin. “You are with Lyon and Ashner. Listen!” he called to the group. “Do not lower your boats until I instruct you to do so. Also, no one advances until the water is cleared of them. Understood? Now, Aylin!”
Aylin closed her eyes. When her lips stopped moving, the encroaching ships were swallowed by a swift-footed, dense fog which raced towards the Zavonian vessel. Kaia felt her feet carry her backwards. Ani scaled Elania’s back and hugged her neck.
As the cloud-like wall enveloped them, Aylin turned the ship. Thomas—who could no longer be seen—gave the order, and the rowboats were lowered. Kaia hooked a rope ladder to the side of the ship. One by one, her group hurriedly descended. Once all were in the boat, Bennett cut the ropes that were holding the craft to the vessel. The fog was not at all dense when one was close to the water’s surface. It was possible to see several feet ahead.
The Zavonian ship began to move away. Lyon and Ashner’s boat was dragged alongside it. The two brothers looked up nervously. “Aylin!” they called. There was no answer. “Aylin!” they begged, as they rocked back and forward, craning their necks. The ship was slicing through the water. Within seconds, neither it nor the boat could be seen.
Thomas’ rowboat came to rest beside Kaia’s.
“The others,” said Bennett, “they were dragged.”
“They’ll be fine,” said Thomas.
“Aylin wasn’t coming down,” said Warrin.
“Trust me, they’ll be fine. We’ll find them once we’re on the beach.”
“Don’t you think we should—”
“Do what? Help? Assuming that they haven’t yet managed to separate themselves from the ship, how do you fancy we find them in this fog?”
“You are a Speaker.”
“As is she!”
“Do you think that they are leaving?” asked Raelon, trying—to no avail—to spot their opposers.
Thomas scanned the waters. He said something inaudible whilst looking at the two rowboats. “Advance,” he commanded aloud.
The crafts lunged forward on their own.
“We need to get closer,” answered Thomas.
Bennett and Warrin withdrew their oars. The boats travelled for some distance before small waves started crashing into them.
“Stop,” ordered Thomas.
The two boats came to a standstill. The plan had worked! The ships were leaving. If the turbulent waters weren’t convincing enough, the faint voices were. Not too far off, shouting men could be heard. Moving the line! Do not break it, they said. Faster! Hoist the sails! We fall behind! Hurry!
Limbs frozen in place, the group sat in wait. When the waters finally grew calm, they knew that it was safe to proceed, and Thomas directed the boats anew.
As they travelled, the fog grew thicker, the air colder and drier. They were entering Mar. No announcement was needed. All were aware of the fact. The point of no return had been passed.
***
The fog grew thin again at the beach. What surprised Kaia about Mar was how normal everything appeared. The overcast sky was not baleful. On the contrary, Kaia found it somewhat comforting; it reminded her of Greyland. The trees that lined the beach were not leafless, dead trees with peeling barks, as Kaia had imagined. They were tall, healthy evergreens lacking in all things peculiar.
When the boats could proceed no further, the group of eight jumped into the knee-high water and waded to shore. Elania carried Ani.
“I thought our movements were being kept secret,” said Raelon.
“They were,” said Thomas.
“Then who—”
“I don’t know.”
“Your brother sent a flird after we set sail, didn’t he?” asked Pelliab.
“You dare accuse Ashner?” snarled Warrin.
“He sent that flird to his mother,” said Bennett.
“How can you know for sure?” asked Thomas.
“Stop!” ordered Raelon. “Ashner wouldn’t sabotage this expedition.”
“Perhaps it was one of your people,” said Warrin, addressing Thomas.
“One of ours! We have spent years trying to find a way to help!”
“Maybe not everyone in Zavonia agreed with what the councilors were doing.”
“That’s ridiculous!”
“Is it?”
“You two didn’t say anything before you left, did you?” Thomas asked Kaia and Elania.
“No!” said Kaia.
“The course of travel wasn’t even d
isclosed to us until our first night on the ship,” added Elania.
“Well, whoever they are,” said Thomas, looking out into the fog, “they didn’t find us by chance.”
“The Utdrendans wouldn’t repeat the information they gave the councilors to others, would they?” asked Bennett. No one answered him.
The group trudged along the shore, searching for the missing three. The latter must have been dragged for some distance—that, or Kaia and the others were moving with little speed—for they were not found straightaway. It wasn’t until apprehension had begun to take root that the outline of three approaching bodies—all of different sizes—could be seen in the mist.
“Aylin?” called Thomas.
“It is us,” returned one of the princes.
When the distance between the two companies had been closed, Bennett embraced Ashner, and Warrin and Lyon clasped one another’s forearm.
“We need to be vigilant,” said Thomas. “Someone has betrayed us.”
“We were just discussing that,” said Aylin. “I wonder who.”
“Which way to Enbeck?” asked Raelon.
“Through the forest. We’ll come out onto the town of Tearl. From there, we can take the roads.”
***
Insee followed the group, flying from tree to tree. The bush crunched under Kaia’s feet as she moved past a couple of moss-encased logs. Birds could be heard chirping above; it was as if they were talking to one another, commenting on the new arrivals, eager to know what had drawn them so far away from their homes.
Pelliab stared at his feet while he walked. He looked as though he were in pain. His jaw was clenched, as were his fists. His face was disfigured so greatly that his eyebrows nearly touched.
“Are you alright?” asked Kaia.
“Yes.”
“Have you been here before? In Mar, I mean.”
“Not since it’s gone by that name.” Pelliab quickened his pace, isolating himself from Kaia.
“At last! I thought he would never stop talking,” quipped Elania, walking alongside her sister. “He stopped, Ani.”
Ani, who had lifted her palms to her ears, dropped her hands and sighed in relief.
“I’m hungry,” said Ashner.
“Of course,” sneered Lyon.
“You aren’t?”
“We’ll eat soon,” said Aylin. She stopped in her tracks and turned to face the group. “It’s getting dark. We won’t make it to Tearl tonight.”
“Let’s stop here, then. This is a fine spot,” said Thomas.
“No,” said Pelliab. “The ground is too low. Over there,” he suggested, pointing to the top of a slope.
The ground was drier at the top of the small hill but a bit denser. Aylin brandished a machete and, puffing—to blow her fiery hair away from her face—filed down the undergrowth. Thomas and the others tossed aside any rocks and fallen branches. In the end, they succeeded in creating an insulated, circular campsite.
The group spread out and set down their bags.
“Aylin. Thomas. How about some proper beds?” asked Lyon.
“No,” said Aylin.
“Why not?”
“We need to be inconspicuous.”
“Who’s going to be wandering through these parts in the middle of the night?”
“The same people who tried to block our entrance just a while earlier.”
“We led them away.”
“No unnecessary risks, Lyon. Sorry.”
“Can we eat now?” asked Ashner.
Thomas crossed his legs and sat on the ground. He smiled smugly as he said something about food. Kaia could hear him, yet she was not close enough to decipher all of his words.
Eleven brass goblets and plates of food suddenly appeared; he had been making an utterance. They were configured and spaced out as if a table were, indeed, present. The meal reminded Kaia of that which she had eaten while in Zavonia; each person had been allotted part of a roasted chicken, a crisp potato, and fresh bread. Kaia took her bread, broke it into several pieces, and sprinkled it onto the ground behind her. Insee flew down from the trees and began to eat. When Kaia turned around, she found that her bread had been replenished. Aylin smiled at her with her warm eyes.
Silence engulfed the group’s first shared meal; never before had all dined at the same time. Kaia felt a bit uncomfortable. She knew not to what she should attribute the others’ speechlessness. It did not matter. She would force them to speak, she decided.
“I did not know that Mar once went by another name,” said Kaia.
“Yes,” said Warrin.
“Mar and Darlbent were once united,” said Bennett.
“Ramitus—that’s what it was called.”
“Why the fracture?” asked Kaia.
Raelon wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “In its final years, Ramitus was ruled by Queen Marion—Father and King Richard’s mother. It is said that when Father and King Richard were still boys, the queen fell terribly ill.”
“Grief killed her,” said Lyon.
“Quite possibly.”
Pelliab’s face became distorted and crooked once more.
“Grief?” asked Elania.
“Her youngest son, Prince Simon, had drowned in a tragic accident right before she became ill,” said Raelon.
“What killed her is not all that relevant to this story,” insisted Warrin. “What matters is that when it became apparent that she would not live much longer, Queen Marion summoned Father and King Richard. Since both were begotten at the same time, she decided to split the kingdom of Ramitus in half. Father was to rule over the north—Darlbent—and King Richard over the south—which he named Mar, in honor of his mother.”
“They’ve been kings since boyhood?” asked Kaia.
“Yes.”
“They weren’t quite boys,” corrected Lyon. “What were they? Fourteen?”
“They were young.”
“What a charge at such an age,” said Elania.
“Alright,” said Lyon, clapping his hands, “who wants to take the first watch?”
“I’ll do it,” volunteered Raelon.
“I’ll go after you,” said Ashner, his mouth full. Whilst the majority of the group had struggled to clear their plates, the bony Ashner had plowed through his and was working on a second one.
“Let the baby prince keep watch?” mocked Lyon. “Absolutely not.”
“I can do it!”
“No!”
“Let him,” said Warrin. “It’s not all that difficult. I’ll take the third watch. Ashner, should you start to grow tired, you wake me up immediately.”
“Yes,” said Ashner.
“Immediately. Do not compromise our safety.”
Chapter Eight
The Incomplete Transcription
“Ashner!” called Raelon, who had been relieved of his watch for some time yet had not managed to fall asleep.
Ashner flinched and lowered his dagger. He stared at his brother—defiance in his eyes—before letting his gaze return to Pelliab. He did not blink. In one swift movement, his weapon rose above his head; the arms which conveyed it were rigid but did not hesitate. Raelon quickly withdrew his hand from his bag and let a bladed disk fly forth. Ashner cried out in agony, took a few steps back, and dropped to his knees. Pelliab awoke. Mouth agape, he stood up, staring at the wounded Ashner.
“Thomas! Aylin!” cried Raelon loudly. The entire camp was roused from sleep.
“What happened?” mumbled a confused Warrin.
“Why?” asked Raelon. “Why?” he repeated, teeth clenched as he seized Ashner by the shoulders. Raelon looked up. “Can you do anything?” he asked Thomas and Aylin, pointing to the disk protruding from Ashner’s chest.
“No…I’m sorry,” said Thomas, dumbfounded.
“What happened?” asked Lyon.
“He left me no choice. He tried to kill Pelliab,” answered Raelon.
“No, no, no!” Lyon interlocked his fingers behind his head a
nd turned in a small circle. “You did this?”
“He left me no choice!”
Ashner’s little mouth twisted and spewed blood.
“Why did you do it?” asked Raelon, shaking his brother.
“Stop!” shouted Bennett, pushing Raelon aside to cradle the bleeding prince. “Is there truly nothing you can do?” he asked the Speakers.
“Nothing that will save him,” lamented Aylin.
Ashner looked with horror and hatred at Pelliab. Whimpering, he ran his fingers over the dirt, searching for his dagger.
“Ashner, stop! Ashner!” said Bennett, clutching the boy’s hand. “Be still. Be still,” he whispered, his voice unsteady.
Tears streamed down Ashner’s face. “He…must die.”
“What! Why?”
“He…promised…he…promised me…”
“Ashner! Ashner!”
“Glory,” he breathed, as his eyes froze in place.
Raelon screamed in horror. He doubled over, dropped to the ground, and held his hands up to his face. He was panting. Pelliab made to approach but stopped abruptly. Raelon held out his hands. Blood-covered lumps of ivory were in his palms. He looked up, groaning. His teeth had all fallen out. Just as he was about to speak, his eyes grew loose and fell out of his head, rolling onto the ground.
“No! Help me! Please!” wailed a frightened Raelon.
The group, still gathered around Ashner’s limp body, turned around.
“What’s happening to him?” asked Warrin, petrified.
Kaia felt her stomach turn.
Raelon threw himself on the ground and writhed in pain. The skin on his face stretched, covering the two oozing, gaping holes on either side of, and above, his nose. His legs started to move in the most unnatural of ways, almost convulsively. They bowed where they should have been straight, becoming wholly disfigured. Raelon’s skin turned as black as the night sky. He opened his mouth, producing an eerie, inhuman sound and revealing two rows of pointed, triangular teeth. His arms morphed so that below each elbow there emerged a thorn that was tremendously long, sharp, and curved.
“Raelon!” called Warrin.
Raelon stabbed his two thick thorns into the ground and lifted his body. He was terrifyingly odious to behold. His legs were no longer good for walking, only for standing. He clumsily used what were formerly his arms to move around; he staked them into the ground and, lifting his feet, propelled himself forward. The beast sniffed the air, grunted, and then lunged itself at its former comrades. The group staggered backwards.
Capering on Glass Bridges (The Hawk of Stone Duology, Book 1) Page 7