Storm Raiders: Age Of Magic - A Kurtherian Gambit Series (Storms Of Magic Book 1)

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Storm Raiders: Age Of Magic - A Kurtherian Gambit Series (Storms Of Magic Book 1) Page 6

by PT Hylton


  Part of it was that he knew she’d been right when she’d accused him of ignoring her. It hadn’t been intentional…mostly. He’d just been busy. But he did have to admit there had been one or two occasions where he’d been with someone important and seen her. In those cases, he’d done his best to avoid making eye contact with her.

  And now she was in real trouble, and he was getting ready to ship out tomorrow morning. But he wasn’t sure what else he could do.

  “She’s a beauty, isn’t she?”

  Dustin turned to find Roy standing behind him. “What?”

  He gestured up at the sail. “I saw you staring. No shame in it. This ship is yours as much as it is mine. Take pride in it. Even if it isn’t Thunderclap.

  Dustin nodded. Now that he was aboard, he saw the elegant design of the vessel. The way it was laid out so carefully, so precisely. They’d be shipping out with a crew of fifty men and women, and each of them would have to know his or her job and perform it well if The Foggy Day wanted to keep pace with the larger ships.

  “Do you know much about shipbuilding in Holdgate after the Mad Days?” Roy asked.

  Dustin shook his head, surprised at the question. Harald, his old mentor, hadn’t wanted to talk about the way things had been before the time of Storm Callers. Dustin knew some sort of plague had washed over the land, causing men and women to go crazy with anger. They’d destroyed not only each other, but much of the world that came before. Dustin wasn’t sure how long the Mad Days had lasted, but there were still some alive who remembered it. Probably like that old Storm Caller who’d nearly drowned him.

  Then, one day the madness had simply stopped. The people had woken up one morning, suddenly sane and forced to face the consequences of years of destruction.

  “The first boats after the Mad Days were crude things,” Roy said. “They didn’t even have decks. They were empty vessels, and men sat on long benches at the bottom, rowing with mighty oars. But the sea was crueler then, and with that design, even a hard rain would cause the ship to take on water. It was a difficult, slow way to travel. My granddad rowed on one of those ships, and the stories he told… Let’s just say they didn’t give the rowers bathroom breaks, if you take my meaning. They’d row for days, nodding off for an hour or two here and there, resting in their own filth.”

  “Wow. That must have been horrible.”

  Roy shrugged. “That was the story my grandad told, anyway. Who knows how much of it is true. He also said he walked up a mountain to get to school and up another one to get home.” He chuckled at the memory. “Truth or not, everything changed when the first Storm Callers came and made peace with the sea. They talked the sea into letting us borrow her wind, and ship design had to change.”

  “How so?” Dustin asked.

  Roy pointed up at the sail. “Harnessing the wind was suddenly the priority. We had to build massive sails and ships capable of supporting them.” He stomped on the deck with a heavy boot. “We’ve gotten pretty good at it, too.”

  The timber made Dustin think of the woods. Which made him think of Abbey. His eyes drifted back toward Holdgate.

  “Ah, I see what this is.” Roy leaned in close and nudged Dustin. “You’ll be leaving someone behind?”

  “Yeah. Something like that.”

  Roy chuckled again. “I’ll tell you a secret. Whatever she feels for you now? It’ll grow tenfold when you’re away, and she’s home imagining you out on the open sea defending the world from Barskall Warriors. When you come home, she’ll hug you so hard you won’t be able to breathe. She’ll be wanting to do a might bit more than hugging, too.” The captain passed him a wink.

  Dustin felt himself blush. He thought about explaining that it wasn’t like that between Abbey and him. They were just friends. Well, not even that, really. Former friends.

  His eyes drifted toward the city, and he swore to himself that if he ever got the chance, he would help her.

  ****

  A heavy fist pounded on Jarvi’s door so hard that the floorboards shuddered.

  Abbey leaped to her feet, sword in hand. She’d led the city guard right to Jarvi’s home! She wouldn’t allow him to get in trouble because of her. She’d fight to defend him all the way.

  Jarvi held up a hand as if reading her thoughts. “Easy. They may not know you’re here. If they’d followed you, they would have been at my door sooner.”

  “Then why are they here?” she asked. “Did the city guard just happen to show up the same morning as a wanted criminal?”

  “You and your father aren’t the only ones who know I live here. I try to keep my location as private as possible, but the Magistrate and his tax collectors always seem to find me. It’s well known that I often do business with your father. You were seen leaving the east gate. It only makes sense that they’d check here.”

  Abbey relaxed slightly. “What do we do?”

  “I’ll greet them and pretend I’m alone. You hide in the back and try very hard to keep quiet. I know that isn’t exactly your strong suit.”

  “Damn right it’s not.”

  Jarvi shooed her toward the back of the house. “Get going. The longer it takes me to open the door, the more suspicious this will seem.” He leaned the shocker against the wall and headed for the door.

  Abbey trotted to the small bedroom at the back of the house. She shut the door behind her, then crouched down next to it, trying to hear what was going on out there. The door was solid oak, and all she heard was muffled voices.

  Everything Jarvi had told her was running through her head, clouding her thoughts. So much of what she’d thought to be true wasn’t. Those city guards hunting for her? Her father had been Arcadia’s version of those men. And her mother hadn’t died during the journey to Holdgate; she’d been executed.

  Abbey took a deep breath, trying to center herself. With so many truths and lies swirling in her head, there was one thing she knew for certain: her father hadn’t killed the Magistrate’s son. Even if everything else she knew about him was false, he was still being held for a crime he didn’t commit. And she wouldn’t let that stand. She’d fight to see him freed.

  She pushed her ear harder against the door, straining to hear.

  She caught the sound of heavy footsteps, and they seemed to be getting closer. Now she heard shouting.

  Enough hiding. She reached for the doorknob, then paused. She had no idea what she was jumping into. There could be one guard out there or fifteen.

  Either way, she wasn’t going to let Jarvi face them alone. She took a deep breath, gripped her sword, and threw the door open.

  She sprinted toward the sitting room, sword held high, taking in the situation as she ran.

  There were three city guards. They stood around Jarvi, who was down on his knees. Abbey could see his lip was split open, and blood was running down his chin.

  Abbey didn’t stop to consider the fact that she’d never fought three men at once, let alone three city guards. She was so filled with rage at the sight of her friend’s blood that she didn’t stop to think about much of anything. She just charged.

  The three guards looked up, their eyes wide at the unexpected sight of a sword-wielding woman sprinting toward them. Abbey knew she’d only have a second or two before they recovered, and she intended to take full advantage of it.

  Holding the sword in one hand, she grabbed the shocker leaning against the wall with the other and thrust it toward the nearest guard. It touched his neck, and he let out a scream that was abruptly cut off as he began to convulse. He fell to the ground a moment later, unconscious.

  One down, she thought. These next two would be much more difficult. They’d recovered their senses and were drawing their swords.

  She swung her sword, hitting the taller guard in the forearm with the flat of her blade. A tremendous thwack rang out as the iron connected with flesh, and he howled in pain.

  Abbey spun to her right, turning her attention to the final guard. He had his sword held at the re
ady.

  “Let’s see how good you are against a real swordsman.” The guard’s voice was full of bravado, but his eyes kept wandering to the shocker.

  “I’m still trying to figure that out myself,” she said. “If you and your friends see a real swordsman on your way back to town, could you send him my way?”

  The guard grimaced with anger. Abbey used the moment to stab the shocker toward him. He stepped back, just as she’d hoped. Using the opening, Abbey attacked with her sword.

  The guard was quicker than she’d expected, and he managed to deflect her blow. However, that created an opening on his right side. She jabbed him in the neck with the shocker, and he fell to the ground, shaking.

  She saw movement out of the corner of her eye, and she ducked just in time. The remaining guard’s sword missed her by only a few inches. She spun and raised her sword, facing him.

  Abbey nodded toward the bright red welt on his forearm. “I’d suggest backing off if you don’t want more of those, numb nuts.”

  The guard opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, something hit him in the back of the head, and he dropped like a bag of rocks.

  Jarvi stood over the fallen guard, a club in his hand.

  “Wow,” Abbey said. “Where’d you get that thing?”

  Jarvi wiped at the blood on his chin with the back of his sleeve. “I used it to club wild animals back when I was blazing trading routes after the Mad Days.”

  “Looks like you’re still using it to club animals.” Abbey nodded toward the fallen guard. “Jarvi, I’m sorry about bringing them here. You don’t need this kind of trouble.”

  Jarvi smiled. “Who does?” He stepped toward her and put a hand on her arm. “There’s no time for apologies. You need to get out of here before these men wake up.”

  Abbey knew he was right, but she didn’t relish the thought of going back out there and being hunted again. “Where can I even go?”

  Jarvi looked at her for a long moment before answering. “Answer this question honestly. Do you want to be safe, or do you want to help find justice for your father?”

  Abbey was taken aback by the question. “How could you even—”

  “I’m serious, Abbey. Really think about it. Because if you want to be safe, I can see you to Arcadia. Or Roneland. Or any of a hundred other places.”

  “I sense there’s another option coming, and that’s the one I want to hear. I’m not letting my father be executed for something he didn’t do.”

  Jarvi smiled. “Good. I just needed to give you the option. Listen, I believe Bronson’s murder wasn’t about Bronson at all.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Think about it. Bronson was lazy, but he was popular. His occupation was drinking mead and seducing women. Killing him accomplishes nothing but outrage at the person who committed the crime. I believe the person who did this was only interested in framing Benjamin.”

  Abbey nodded slowly. That made sense to her, too. “Okay. How’s that help us?”

  “Your father and I have long believed something isn’t right in Holdgate. As much as the Magistrate and the Storm Captains try to hide it, things aren’t going well in our efforts to drive back the Barskall. But the problems aren’t coming in the battles themselves. They’re happening at home.”

  Abbey scratched her chin and thought about that. “You think someone in Holdgate is working with the Barskall?”

  Jarvi nodded. “Your father had set up an appointment to discuss the matter with the Magistrate, but it looks like he won’t be keeping it.”

  “They set him up to discredit him,” Abbey said.

  “Yes.”

  “So how do we find the traitor?”

  “I believe whoever it was will want to report back to their bosses. There are ships leaving for the north tomorrow.”

  Abbey chuckled. “You’re strangely informed for a man who lives in the woods.”

  Jarvi smiled. “I have my sources. I believe our traitor will be on one of those ships tomorrow.”

  “Then so will I.” She waited a moment for Jarvi’s response, but none came. “What, you’re not going to try to talk me out of it?”

  He shook his head. “You’re a grown woman. You can make your own choices. And if I were in jail and could pick someone to have fighting to clear my name, you would be at the top of the list.”

  Abbey swallowed hard, a lump suddenly in her throat. “Thanks, Jarvi.”

  He nodded toward the shocker. “You want to take that with you?”

  She considered it for a moment. “No. Honestly, it kind of felt like cheating. I prefer my sword.” She glanced at the unconscious guards. “What are you going to do when these guys wake up?”

  He shrugged. “I’ll say you broke into my house and attacked all of us. Don’t worry about me. They may haul me off to jail for the night, but I have enough iron to bribe the jailers. I’ll be out in a day or two.”

  “Thank you, Jarvi. For everything. I’ll be back before you know it, and I’ll bring proof of my father’s innocence.”

  Jarvi smiled. “I expect nothing less.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Dustin placed his final set of clothing into the small trunk and closed the lid. Then he paused, opened it again, and pawed around inside, making sure he had everything he’d need. He was always like this the night before he departed. Once he got out on the open water in the morning, he’d be fine. But for tonight, he was a bundle of nerves. Knowing he’d be out at sea for an indeterminate amount of time with only the items he brought in this trunk only made it worse.

  In truth, he wouldn’t need much. As long as he provided the winds to send the ship on its way, the rest would take care of itself.

  But this wasn’t just any trip. They’d be facing Barskall Warriors.

  The four captains and Storm Callers who would be sailing out in the morning had met together that afternoon. The members of the other three ships had a camaraderie. It was clear they sailed together often. Dustin also knew none of them really wanted The Foggy Day along on their trip. Not that he blamed them. They were highly effective at what they did. Why did they need a smaller ship along with them? But the Magistrates and the other captains had insisted, so here they were.

  At the end of the day, Dustin didn’t care if the other ships wanted him there or not. He’d prove his worth.

  Captain Tor of Thunderclap had made it clear what he wanted The Foggy Day’s role to be: hang back and provide support. He’d said it in a kind way—at least for a stormship captain—but his words left no room for doubt.

  Dustin sighed and closed the trunk again. The things he’d brought would be fine, just like they always were. As long as he didn’t forget his staff, he’d be okay.

  He saw something out of the corner of his eye—a blur of motion. He grabbed his staff and spun toward it. Not that he could use storm magic without seawater present, but the staff would make a mighty fine club if the need arose.

  There was no one there. It must have been his imagination. Everything was happening so fast, it was making him jumpy.

  He started to relax, then he saw something. The shadows next to his wardrobe seemed to fall strangely. He squinted into the darkness, and after a moment, he spotted the unmistakable shape of a person crouching.

  He clutched his staff. “Who’s there? Show yourself, damn you, or you’ll see what a Storm Caller can do.”

  A female voice came from the shadows. “Not much without seawater, from what I hear.”

  She stood up, and Dustin gasped.

  It was Abbey.

  ****

  Abbey stood next to the wardrobe, still partially draped in shadows as Dustin stared at her, mouth agape.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Dustin’s voice was a harsh whisper. “Everyone’s looking for you.”

  Abbey grimaced. “You think you’re going to get in trouble? You’re a damn Storm Caller. Act like it. Stop being so afraid.”

  “It’s not that.” He to
ok a step forward, and she was surprised to see what looked like genuine concern on his face. “You should be miles away from here by now. I saw you leaving the city.”

  “I saw you, too. You were helping the guards, looking for me like the rest of them.”

  “I was trying to help you!” He sighed, exasperated. “I know those charges against your father are bullshit. And I know you didn’t have anything to do with Bronson’s death. You may not want to believe it, but I’m your friend.”

  “Really? You haven’t done much lately to support that claim.”

  He looked away. Was it possible he was actually ashamed of his actions? “You’re right. I’ve been a real dick, and I’m sorry. But that changes now. I’ll help you get away from the city. You can run and never come back. Start a new life somewhere they won’t look down on you just because of where you’re from.”

  Abbey paused. She’d intended to approach this very differently. She hadn’t expected Dustin to be so nice. Still, nice or not, she didn’t think he’d like what she was going to say next, and she was ready to get tough if needed.

  “I do need your help to get away from Holdgate, but not like you’re thinking. I want a ride.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I mean, I can borrow a cart and a horse. You hide in the back under some blankets. The city guard will wave me right through the gates when they see my blue cloak.”

  He still wasn’t getting it.

  “I need a ride on your ship.”

  There was a long moment before he responded. “Sorry, you want to come aboard The Foggy Day? You’re a storm rider now?”

  “I don’t want a job; I want you to smuggle me aboard. I have reason to believe whoever framed my father is aboard one of the four ships heading north tomorrow morning. I need to go with you so I can figure out who it is.”

  Dustin walked over to the table on the far side of the room and slowly sank into a chair. “Have you ever been aboard a ship? It’s not exactly spacious. What you’re asking isn’t easy.”

 

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