The Tuskan Prince (The Caine Mercer Series Book 2)

by Cale Madison

  Children frolicked through fields of corn, weaving in between the stocks as they played their imaginative games. Aketa noticed my smile as I watched them and whispered, “Not on your life, Caine. Not having one of them for a while.”

  “You don’t want to be a mother? Ever?”

  “Not yet.” she answered, grimacing as one of the young girls squealed in pain, having just snagged her toe on a tree stump, “Children are just walking and talking nuisances. Look, all they can do is whine and cry! It’s pathetic. We should honestly wait until the world is a bit calmer, with all of the wars and plagues happening now. It would be selfish, forcing another life into this awful world.”

  “You’ve used that excuse for years.”

  “I can’t change the world, dear, as much as I wish I could.”

  We rode in silence for a moment before I muttered, “I think you’d make a great mother. You’ve always taken care of me. What’s the difference?”

  “The difference is that I’d rather not be stuck taking care of two children.” she snapped with a cracked smile. Nadi thrashed her head and whinnied, as if she were laughing.

  After a few hours, we rode upon a dark and formidable wetland, concealed in a grove that jetted from our path. Upon shifting our direction towards a road that led to the west, a small, pale girl suddenly leapt into the crossroads with visible splatters of darkened blood and hair on her hands. I halted Nadi and felt Aketa’s grip on my shirt tighten, fearing what would come of this girl who stood in our way. Her black eyes followed us as Nadi trotted in place - soulless, haunting eyes.

  “What happened to you?” she asked her. The girl said nothing, only locked her stare with mine and extended her bloody hands for us to see. Her clothes had been torn to shreds, covered in splotches of black mud and clumps of wet grass. Her lips were as blotched and pale as her skin. Nadi neighed loudly and thrashed her neck, startled. Before my wife could repeat the question, the mysterious child fled into the marshes and vanished from sight. I glanced in her direction and understood what she really was. Aketa began to climb down from the horse but my arm stopped her.

  “No.” I whispered, “Wait...look into the woods...look deeper.”

  She squinted her eyes, peering into the shadows of the willow trees; she finally spotted a small mound of clay and rock with a vile creature crouching beside it. Its bony arms and legs silhouetted against the dark trees behind it. I could hear its hissing and breathing from the road. Aketa replied, stunned, “To think, I almost went in there to help the little girl.”

  The wight’s vicious biting sounds sent shudders down her spine. We trotted off and left it alone, as did a majority of Mercian farmers who strayed too close to the abandoned woods.

  “Gracious hearts have no place in that world.” I said under my breath, carefully watching the grove to ensure that we were not being followed.

  ***

  By noon, we reached the port. The Red Dragon tavern sat peacefully, already hosting a variety of drunken sailors on their down-time before setting off to sea again. The sun beat down on us, dispersing any clouds in the skies above. I recalled the memory of my previous visit to this place before I glanced to the overlooking hills, searching for the von Quinn Estate. Many trees had been cleared in the months prior, making room for large, colorful banners and festive flags that could be seen from where we stood.

  “They’re auctioning off the house? Those men are carrying boxes to carts. That looks like furniture, doesn’t it?” Aketa asked in bewilderment. I nodded, remembering the fateful words of the djinn and the vampire. Rubia von Quinn must have been forced to sell her home...or perhaps she chose to.

  Sailors rolled barrels of wine and mead onto the port docks, inscribed with foreign writing from faraway lands. I recognized the languages ranging from Skjarlan to elvish. Exotic creatures were carried in crates to be bartered off to the highest bidder in Port Mercia’s market. Deckhands rubbed their eyes as they stumbled from their ships, smelling of cheap wine and sweat. Dwarves and halflings butchered pig carcasses on tables as crowds watched, bidding on each set of hooves and shoulders.

  Drifting along the extending docks were multiple ships of merchants, traveling noblemen, royal fleet and fishing sails but only one had caught my eye. At the forefront stood a magnificent brigantine with red lining and black sails, sporting a fairly familiar emblem: the head of a water dragon with two interlocked, spiked bludgeons.

  “It can’t be...” I said to myself as we led Nadi to the ship’s plank. After crossing the wood that overlooked breaking waves and rushing water below, we found ourselves standing amidst the bustle of sailors and crewmates rushing to their stations. Sir Ivan von Kallenbach emerged from below deck and spotted us on the bow. This time, he wore a white shirt instead of his glorious knightly armor.

  “Ah, Caine and Aketa! I’m overjoyed that you’ve decided to come.” he greeted us and beat one hand across his chest, “Of course, I knew you would accept my king’s offer. I knew it from the moment you opened your door! Well, we set sail within the hour. Here, give me your bags and I’ll store them below deck in your quarters.”

  “As I live and breathe. You’re a sight for sore eyes, you two!” a loud voice boomed from above. Skalige Beucront, the infamous Baron of the Badlands posed by the ship’s wheel in his standard manner of boasting pride and valor. He did not wear his typical black helmet, which seemed odd at first until I gave it more thought. His black hair rested on his armored shoulders and the disfigured portion of his face gleamed in the light of the sun. Like Petri, he had not chosen to shave since the last time we parted. His thick beard made him look more like a pirate than a southern warlord.

  “Damnit, Caine, look at that belly! This one’s been feeding you too much and not running you enough! Hah!” he cackled as we ascended the staircase to greet the old friend. We shook hands and rejoiced like old acquaintances after several estranged years.

  “How in the hell did the Isles agree to let you come here?” I asked him with bursting curiosity, “The islands must be in complete turmoil by now.”

  “Left the throne to more interested men for the time being. There’s no islander war, nor famine or reason to sit my happy arse on that uncomfortable chair for another second. Thanks to you, the vampire’s gone. I was starting to get bored with nothing to do. Now stop yer frettin’ and let’s enjoy a no-expense voyage!” Skalige declared, “Aha!”

  “The king paid you for our escort?”

  “He did, and quite handsomely, I might add. Tuskan and the Isles haven’t been friendly to each other in over a decade, so the invitation did seem queer, but coin is still coin.” the baron answered me, returning to the wheel as the ship prepared to set off, “They’re not too fond of us, I think. Still, we have the strongest fleet in all of the nine kingdoms and I happen to have a personal connection to his invited guests. The ship needs a new hull, our fishing nets could stand to be replaced...it all just worked out well for me.”

  Skalige commanded for the sailors to withdraw the plank, hoist the sails and then we cordially departed from the docks. I could see this peculiar combination of fascination, excitement and fear on Aketa’s face as she watched Port Mercia fading away in the far distance. Our ship drifted further out to uncharted waters in a direction that even I was unfamiliar with.

  “I keep forgetting that you’re new to leaving her.” I said as we stood at the helm, “Last time you left, you were teleported.”

  “Leaving home will never get old. Hopefully, in a few days, I’ll miss it. That’s always been the most glaring difference between you and I, Caine. I can spend the rest of my days in our house on the hill, but you have to be constantly preoccupied. Always building something. Always traveling. You know who you’re starting to become, don’t you?” she asked, resting her cheek on my shoulder.

  “My father.” I answered with a grin, knowing that she was right.

  Mercia’s rolling hills and green forests became a faint blur as our brigantine cruised through open
waters, heading north. Once the land was nowhere in sight and only thrashing waves on an endless, blue horizon became our only company on the voyage, we could finally be at ease. The salty air filled my nostrils once again and breathed a fulfilling life into my empty lungs, reminding me of the exhilaration that accompanied spontaneous adventures. Sir Ivan led Nadi to the horse stables below deck, where other farm animals and mares were sleeping.

  I braced myself against the starboard railing as the deck began to wobble. The crew repositioned themselves accordingly, having already experienced every kind of turbulence. As the white sails caught another gust of southerly wind, the ship picked up speed. I recognized the galleons and caravels traversing across the horizon as Arrigonian trade ships. Recalling of the world maps I had studied in school, I narrowed down their list of destinations to either Rotera or Loxenburg. The Siren’s Song glided swiftly through the open waters with each burst of wind.

  Men scrubbed grime from the wooden deck, humming melodies and swapping stories to pass the time. I placed my hands on the ship’s railing, feeling the freshly sanded wood beneath my fingers. Seagulls swooped overhead, cawing as they searched for food and a place to rest. The heat from the sun weighed heavily, prompting me to mutter under my breath, “At least we have wind.”

  “I’d hoped our paths would cross again.” Skalige said to me when Aketa went below deck to rest, “Although, I didn’t foresee this to be the reason.”

  “A summoning from a king is difficult to ignore, I’ll give you that. Nothing happens in Mercia’s late summers...nothing out of the ordinary, I mean.” I replied as I gazed into the water past the railing, “Have to admit, I did miss the view.”

  “Seems that we’re to chase a runaway prince.”

  “Seems so.” I said, “I’m no hired eye, least of all for a northern king. Have to choose my actions wisely, this time. I’ve seen what choice words are worth.”

  “I’ve seen him too, you know,” Skalige responded, catching my attention, “ooh yes, I’ve seen that evil bastard in many dreams since that night. Same black eyes like a sewer rat or a shark. I relive that night on the tower over and over again, like an endless nightmare.”

  “Hopefully, one day it’ll just be a faded memory. How’s everything back home? Apart from what you’ve already told me.”

  The baron sighed and leaned forward on the railing, “Storms night and day. It means we’ll have a harsh winter. Two hurricanes since last month, almost took my castle with ‘em. Fighting with Era’Kal is now at a stalemate, but neither side will surrender. We keep our weapons drawn at one another but no one fires. Arrigon continues to turn the North into one great bloody battlefield as they advance further west. That blasted duchess hails herself as Queen of the World when she only controls one corner of the continent. It’s a fucking mess, Caine. Count yourself lucky that Mercia’s not caught up in all of this.”

  “Mercia will feel the effects of the war at some point, right?” I asked, watching as a seagull swooped down from the crow’s nest.

  “Everyone feels it, my boy. When the kings of the world surrender their lust for expansion and control, there will finally be peace. But that’s not in our nature. Kings are no longer content ruling their kingdoms. Now, they want the bloody universe.” he said before pausing to scratch his beard, “But as Arrigon drives Ataman west, we’re taking control of the seas. Their fleets cannot match ours. We’re just biding our time for now.”

  “I can’t remember a time when the world wasn’t at war.”

  “I can.” he said, gravely, “I must’ve been eight or nine years old. I remember listening to the hooves of bandits as they tore through our village, slaughtering everyone in their path. I remember giving them my family’s savings with a knife to my throat. I remember the village knights and officials not doing a damned thing about it, because we hadn’t the man power to stop ‘em. Those were dark days, Caine, a time before men took up arms to fight to protect their homeland. Nobody was safe then.”

  I said nothing, returning my gaze to the sea.

  “Once the kingdoms began expanding and Ataman’s icy grip clutched our small town, we found ourselves under their protection. Guerilla units patrolled our streets at night, and any bandit who dared to venture there would leave with only one thing - a crossbow bolt in the spine. War is evil, Caine, but it is also a necessary evil. I learned that truth long ago.”

  The baron suddenly grew silent and looked away. I then turned back to notice something rising out of the water. Several ship-lengths from where we sailed sprouted what appeared to be a small island. Grass, mossy rocks and miniscule palm trees protruded from the strange rock-like substance that floated in the water, just beyond our reach. I stood in astonishment, noticing that Skalige merely sipped from a horn in his hand and paid no mind.

  “Is that an island?” I asked him.

  “Watch closely, now.” he ordered. My focus shifted as I watched several pelicans alter their course to land on the drifting patch of land; the flock sat for several moments, digging around in search of food on the floating rock’s surface. When it seemed that they were ready to disembark on their long journey, nothing happened. The birds strained and screeched but could not fly away.

  Suddenly, an outer rim around the island burst from the water, snatching the helpless creatures in the grip of a beak-like mouth and drifted for some time before vanishing beneath the surface. I astoundedly asked, “The hell was that? That island was alive?”

  “Kankors,” he answered, “cleverest of all deep-sea dwellers. They disguise their tongues as uninhabited islands to catch birds mid-flight between land. Toxins paralyze their prey. I want to be reborn as one of those lazy bastards, able to just sit and wait for my meals. With my luck, I’ll come back as a ploughin’ dolphin or a manatee.”

  “Dolphins aren’t so bad.” I argued as I stared in awe at the great beasts. The kankors gracefully dove into the depths, propelled by tentacle-like appendages that stretched as long as the ship’s hull.

  “Abby loved dolphins. Loved them more than anything in the world.” he said, referring to his late daughter, “Thought a water dragon would be enough, but it wasn’t. That girl sure loved dolphins. Every time one would pass along the coast, she would run screaming through the castle to wake us all up. Didn’t give a rat’s arse what time it was either.”

  Ripples in the water were all that remained in the kankor’s wake.

  “Smart fish. I’ve never seen them off the coast of Mercia?”

  “They actually look like...eh, squids or octopi. And that’s because kankors travel to warmer waters as the seasons change. You’ll find hundreds of ‘em along the shores of Fortaare. I’ve heard stories of marooned sailors who saw kankor tongues as salvation. The beasts don’t seem to care what they drag to the bottom of the sea, it seems.”

  “Incredible...” I whispered, watching as dozens of them began sprouting along the horizon.

  ***

  “You’ve heard the stories, right? They say that a giant lives in the Gorgon Mountains.” Hjaldemar said to one of the Siren’s crew. Twelve of them were sitting on the brig, drinking southern ale and watching the full moon rise into the star-choked sky. The ship rocked back and forth as the waves crashed against its hull.

  The sailor scratched his head and asked, “I thought all the giants went north? Past the Further?”

  “No, you’re thinking of dragons, mate,” he replied, narrowing his bushy eyebrows, “and they say the one in Gorgon is one tough whoreson. I’ve heard he flattened an entire village in Tavetsche with one stomp. Elves won’t cross him out of fear and neither will the hill-men. From Gorgon, that’d be a ten minute walk to the Tuskan castle.”

  “Giants ain’t that big.” Skalige snapped, “Who’s been feeding you this nonsense, Hjaldemar? Giants only grow as tall as an oak tree. You’ve been on the island for too long.”

  “Argue all you want, baron, but I’ve heard the stories. I’ll know the day I see one.” Hjaldemar replied and finis
hed his horn of ale, “Just hope I live to tell the tale. Don’t want to take that one to the grave just yet.”

  “Damnit, this is getting depressing. All it takes is one sad drunk to spoil the night.” Skalige said as he stood to refill his cup.

  “If you wanted a lively crew, you would’a hired us some wenches in Mercia! That’s how you boost morale!” another sailor replied, prompting his crewmates to cheer and laugh.

  “Like you’d even know what to do with one, you little cunt.” the baron snapped, playfully shoving the man, “Want to know how much it would cost to hire just one whore? Not one of those cheap girls you’d find on a street in Port Mercia. I doubt you lot would want to share. You can wait two days until we make it to Brunson.”

  “Bah,” Hjaldemar snorted, “the king’s paid us enough to afford a few restless nights. Have to release my dragon, somehow. But that’s what we’ve got ol’ Drue here for, right? Have to make do!” He grabbed the young rookie, holding him down by his neck as he began to thrust his pelvis. The crew roared in laughter as Drue’s face began to blush, turning a bright shade of red.

  “Bunch of idiots, you all are!” Drue barked, prompting his crewmates to toss their empty cups at him as they continued laughing.

  “I need to know something. Baron, is the Ataman War coming to the Isles? Every month, their patrols inch closer to our coastline. We’re caught right in the middle of their squabble with Arrigon and Era’Kal. At least Skjarla has no decent warships to cross Hallobar or we’d already be invaded.” one sailor asked, changing the subject. The company began muttering to one another before the baron waved his hand to silence them.