Red Season Rising (Red Season Series Book 1)

by D. M. Murray

  “Kal!” Broden shouted from the last steps before the deck. “Damn it, Kal,” he muttered to himself as he looked down the stairs towards the cabins below and then back to the dimly lit deck, “you know I hate coming up here, you bastard.”

  The big man shook his head, sucked in a deep breath, and bounded up the last steps and onto the deck. He could see the dim lights of the raider’s flotilla in the distance. Ohasha stood at the wheel, whilst some of her crew busied themselves with the rigging, ensuring the ship made the most of the sea winds. The remainder of her crew sharpened their weapon’s edges and fixed the flights of arrows and bolts. There was blood coming, of that there was no doubt.

  His stomach lurched as another wave broke on the prow. He staggered, but regained his balance as he made his way along the deck, searching for Kalfinar. “Where in the night are you, Kal?”

  He made his way past the crew as they darted about the ship, making ready for the coming conflict. Broden stopped several who ran past, only to apologise when the faces turned not to be Kalfinar’s.

  Broden’s stomach stopped churning and began to pulse. It was fear. He made his way towards the ships’s aftercastle. There was no light coming from the elaborately designed stained-glass windows at either side of the door. His throat tightened as a memory flashed in his head.

  Carte, down by the docks.

  Broden swung the door open, revealing little but blackness inside. What small light flooded in from the deck was of no use, barely illuminating a stride’s length of floor into the cabin. Broden grumbled and stepped back onto the deck, staggering sideways as the ship lurched from another wave. He stumbled towards one of the few lit lanterns fixed into a bracket near stairs leading to the poop deck.

  Taking the light in hand, the big man returned to the aftercastle and moved inside. A plummeting tug of despair wrenched at Broden’s guts. “Dajda, no!”

  Kalfinar was slumped in a chair, with his legs spread wide. His head was tipped back, towards the ceiling. A jalsinum pipe lay nearby, its contents spilled and smoking on the floorboards underneath his hanging hand.

  Broden dashed to his cousin and searched for a pulse with one hand as the other cradled Kalfinar’s head, tipping it forward. His eyes were glassy; big, black pupils staring at nothing. He was alive, but deep in the throes of intoxication.

  *

  Kalfinar laughed as he splashed about in the sea with his wife and daughter. The sun shimmered on the lapping water while they played, his little daughter shrieking with joy as Kalfinar let her ride his shoulders. What a happy day it had been. One of their best.

  Then, out of nowhere, the sky turned grey and cold. The water nipped with chill. His wife looked at him, the corner of her eyes creasing as fear grew on her face. The playful shrieks of joy turned into cries of sorrow. Kalfinar watched as her hands rose to cover her nose and mouth as tears filled her eyes.

  There was a metallic mumble of thunder and, again, a word. Kalfinar lifted his daughter from his shoulders and looked into her face. Her features ran like a rain-soaked painting. The obscure sound struck again, muffled, like an underwater cry, and her face was gone.

  They were both gone.

  *

  “Kal!” Broden shouted his name again and slapped his face. “Kal, for fuck’s sake, wake up!”

  Kalfinar’s red-rimmed and bloodshot eyes blinked and he took a ragged breath, followed by a racking, jagged cough. Spots of blood coughed out of Kalfinar’s mouth and over Broden’s legs.

  “No, Kal,” Broden mumbled while Kalfinar stared blankly before fumbling for his jalsinum pipe. “No, Kal.” He restrained Kalfinar’s searching hand. “You’ve had enough.”

  A flash of anger flared in Kalfinar’s eyes and Broden felt the muscles of his arm stiffen as he still restrained his hand. Kalfinar’s jaws tensed and he bore his teeth, his brows knitting with an addict’s anger.

  “Kal, no!” Broden’s voice was tough, but edged with a pleading ring. “Don’t do this. We need you now.”

  Kalfinar tensed his arm again in a bid to get out of Broden’s grip, but the bigger man was much stronger.

  “Shhhssh,” Broden repeated, trying to sooth Kalfinar’s swelling rage. “Shhhssh, Kal, shhhssh.”

  Kalfinar’s jaw relaxed and his arm went weak in Broden’s grip. “I was with them,” he said in a ragged voice.

  “I know. I know you were.”

  “Should’ve left me. Why couldn’t you leave me?” Kalfinar pleaded.

  “We need you here,” Broden said as he pulled his cousin close, burying Kalfinar’s head into him.

  Kalfinar drew his weak arms tight around Broden’s neck and shoulders.

  A gentle sobbing sound, pathetic and wretched, grew from Broden’s chest, breaking into a symphony of sadness, percussion of mucus and rhythm of pain. “I’m sorry, Kal, but we needed you here with us.”

  *

  “What happened to him?” Evelyne asked as Broden half-dragged Kalfinar into their cabin below decks, the semi-unconscious man stumbling and tripping, kept upright only by Broden’s supporting arm around his waist.

  “Jalsinum,” Broden grunted as he heaved Kalfinar into a cot. “He must’ve got a hold of some down in the underground. Dajda knows how.”

  Rondo got up from his seat and went across to Broden. “You said you think he has taken jalsinum?” the little man queried.

  “Aye,” Broden sniffed. “He’s had problems with it in the past.”

  Kalfinar stirred, his eyes flickering open, revealing mostly white.

  Between the aftercastle and the cabin, Kalfinar had lost control of his bladder and wet himself. The dark stain on his trousers announced his shame.

  “I’m sorry, my friend.” Rondo wrung his hands, his eyes darting between Kalfinar and Broden. “Had I known, I would have kept a closer eye on him, for if there is an addict in the underground, they will surely find a pipe.”

  Broden shook his head then rubbed his two massive palms over his face, chasing away fatigue and frustration. “Hardly your fault, Rondo,” he said. “We need to sober him up.” He barked, lashing out and kicking at a harmless chair as it sat unoccupied. “How much time have we got?” He looked at Evelyne.

  Her face contorted as she shut her eyes and focused on the Horn, the child asleep still in her arms. “We’re close. I can sense the panic.” She opened her eyes. “The little one here senses the fear too. She’s awake.”

  Evelyne drew back a fold of the blanket that covered the small child and revealed her face. The child wore an urgent and stern look beyond her years.

  “Chentuck,” Broden shouted to the Ravenmayne, “get up on deck and make sure Ohasha has readied the crew. We need to make sure they are ready for what is coming.”

  “We don’t have much time, Broden,” Evelyne spoke. “We need Kalfinar to steer us to the right ship. We can’t possibly face the full flotilla and, without his sense, I can only get us so close.”

  “Should we just take him up as he is?”

  “We’ll have to try our best.” Evelyne turned and headed up the stairs, carrying the small child with her.

  Rondo slid his arm under Kalfinar’s shoulder as Broden heaved him up. Kalfinar emitted a series of grunts and muttered a string of babble as his eyes rolled about in their red-rimmed lids.

  “Let’s get him back up on deck.” Broden said.

  They struggled to get him up the stairs, thanks to the rocking ship and Kalfinar’s haphazard footing. Once they had made it to the deck, they saw they were gaining on the flotilla. Broden ordered what few remaining lights that were lit be snuffed out, causing the ship to fall into darkness as it slid up behind the raiders’ ships.

  “Kalfinar,” Evelyne’s voice was gentle, a whisper on the sea breeze, “open your eyes.”

  “Leave me with them.” Kalfinar’s voice was hoarse and his eyelids, shiny with grease, flickered, revealing only the whites of his eyes.

  “Open your eyes, Kalfinar,” she urged again. “Tell us what you see.
Where is the Horn?”

  *

  Kalfinar’s eyes flickered, revealing glimpses of remarkable eyes. I’ve seen these eyes before. They belong to someone. Are you special to me?

  The voice that echoed in his ringing ears sounded again, sounding fluffy and far away.

  Those eyes. They flashed again before him. Evelyne!

  Kalfinar opened his eyes fully to see Evelyne and Broden, and that beautiful child, the one with light in her heart.

  “What can you see, Kal?” Evelyne’s voice. It was her that had been speaking to him. “Look out there. Tell me where she is.”

  Kalfinar peered into the dark with burning eyes, glancing between the ships in the flotilla that they approached. A faint light glowed from the stern’s window. He mumbled some words; could’ve been anything, for his tongue felt like it had swollen.

  “Are you sure?” Evelyne asked.

  Kalfinar glanced at her remarkable ice-blue eyes and then blinked over to the ship. “Yes. There she is. The one of light.”

  The child looked up at Evelyne. A silent message seemed to pass between them, Evelyne nodded. The child reached out from Evelyne’s embrace, stretching to place her hand on Kalfinar’s cheek.

  His head suddenly felt flush, like it had just been cleansed with cold water. The suddenness of the sensation caused him to step backwards, being held aloft by a steadying hand from Broden. The jalsinum fog had been lifted.

  Kalfinar blinked his eyes and looked up again to the same sign of light that radiated from the ship ahead in the distance. “I’m sure. Get everyone ready.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Kalfinar rubbed his burning eyes with the edge of one palm. He stood alongside his companions and Ohasha’s boarding party as their ship crept up on the raider’s vessel.

  “Broden,” Kalfinar whispered, his voice croaking. “Forgive me. Not as strong as I thought I was.”

  The big man smiled, but his eyes looked sad. “Aye, it’s done.” He placed his hand down on Kalfinar’s shoulder and shook it.

  Evelyne approached. The child was absent from her arms. “Remember,” she said, looking at them both when she spoke, “we’ll not have much time on the ship to turn her. In human form, the child is just flesh; unprotected and exposed. She must be awoken before she can be harmed. There’s no time for hesitation. No time for fear. What I order you to do, you must do, no matter what. No matter what. Understood?”

  Both men nodded. There was no room for doubt.

  Evelyne continued, “Ohasha and her boarding party will give us enough protection and cause enough of a distraction for us to get into the aftercastle. Once we’re in, Chentuck and Rondo will keep the door sealed from either side. We need her awoken.” She looked at Kalfinar. “Are you ready?”

  Do I look ready? Eyes red and shot. Face slick with the jalsinum grease. Ready for the gutter. “Aye, I’m ready,” Kalfinar said, his voice thick with regret. His self-pitying tone even annoyed himself. Prick.

  “Good.” She held his gaze. “We can’t fail, simply can’t.”

  *

  The night air hung heavy with a welcoming mist. The dimmed lights of the raider’s ship bobbed like a group of fuzzy amber nimbuses through the moist, briny air. They drew up beside the ship and the voices of the raiders were clear to Kalfinar as he and Ohasha’s boarding party tensed by the starboard-side, weapons gripped in fists.

  As he spun his hatchet in his left hand and his sword in his right, Kalfinar smelled the stink of the sweating raiders. Broden and Evelyne stood ready on either side of Kalfinar, offering tense, shallow breaths as they waited for the moment.

  *

  The old raider leaned against the ship’s port-side, his sheathed sword cradled by the cross-piece in his folded arms. He drew a deep breath from his tabac pipe before freeing an arm and sticking his middle finger up to the new lad.

  The young prick had a stupid look on his face, nervous over something. He was always nervous over something. Bloody mist, sends all the new ones mad the first nights. Too wet, them lads, like all the new boys. Too damn wet.

  Bloody affront havin’ him out here babysitting the watch. Should’ve been below deck drinking up the booty and bartering over the loot from Nabruuk. A bloody affront.

  He inspected the proffered middle finger. The bloody splinter went right up between the flesh and his closely nibbled nail end. Hurt like a salted razor. Come to think of it, there wasn’t a bloody finger on either hand that didn’t hurt. Would be better off just pulling the damn lot o—

  The ship lurched and a shuddering, grinding sounded before a bang rang out in the wet darkness of the night. The old raider stumbled onto his knees and a roar cut through the mist outside the port-side of the ship. Roped grappling hooks flung over the side and across the deck, one narrowly missing the old raider’s face as it scraped across wood. He fumbled onto his feet and grabbed at his sword.

  There was a flash of light followed by a loud whining noise, and then black.

  *

  Kalfinar’s hatchet smashed the old man in the side of his head, sending him pirouetting to the ground in a spray of blood. He didn’t stand a chance. None of the raiders on that side did.

  Ohasha’s crew leapt onto the port-side of the raider’s ship and slaughtered all who stood in their way. The starboard raiders snapped out of their surprised daze and charged across the deck, weapons being drawn and screaming into the night as calls for support echoed across the ship.

  *

  “Move!” Broden roared as he faced two raiders running towards them. “Get into the cabin now!”

  Kalfinar grabbed Evelyne by the elbow and they charged across the deck towards the aftercastle cabin, flanked by Chentuck.

  Broden kicked the swinging arm of the first man as he approached on his left before swivelling and engaging the second man bearing down on his right. The clash of steel stung his hand and up his wrist. He risked a glance to the aftercastle. They were almost there.

  The man on his right swung low. Broden parried, kicked out at the man’s sword arm, and slashed down two-handed, cleaving through the man’s face. He gurgled and coughed out a thin trail of blood, his eyes rolling up into his head before he fell to his knees while fingers searched the savage rent.

  The second man had recovered and pressed Broden hard. The man’s violent snarl seemed misplaced on his young, freckled face.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  He had just enough time to parry the first and second blow, but a third jarred his shoulder as it thumped into his blade.

  Broden spotted another raider with shaggy hair approaching wielding a mace. The mace flashed out and bit one of Ohasha’s men across the side of the face; dropped him like timber. The shaggy one kept coming.

  Fuck.

  A flash of alarm ran through Broden’s spine. He couldn’t afford to fight them both at once. If he did, it would be a close thing, sure enough. Freckles pressed on, but he came too close this time, allowing Broden the chance to act. Freckles’ momentum carried him past Broden, exposing his back. As the raider stumbled forward, Broden used his own momentum and swung his sword. Steel heaved across the man’s back, flattening him to the wooden deck with a squeaking wretch. He wouldn’t be getting up.

  The shaggy one came on, pausing in front of Broden with a grin. Big fucker, eh. Right outta the Salt Coast marshes, you are.

  Broden risked a glance. Kalfinar was at the cabin.

  *

  Kalfinar’s back slammed against the cabin’s outer wall. He risked a glance through the window. Intense light and warmth; same as in Enulin, with the last one.

  “She’s there,” he whispered.

  “I know,” Evelyne mouthed. “I can feel her urging me. We must be quick!”

  *

  The shaggy one let out a roar and stepped forward.

  Broden raised his sword in both hands, but the man’s cry cut off abruptly, becoming a gritty belch, followed by a tearing cough. A sword point had punched through the big raider’s
chest, making a tent of his leather vest. The raider’s wide, shocked eyes searched over his shoulder to a small man: Rondo.

  He nodded to Broden, sliding free his sword and shoving the raider over. The man dropped like a sack of shuddering stones.

  “Go!” the little Cannan called out as Agurk, Ohasha’s massive guard, strolled up beside him. The little man regarded the big Cannan. “We’ll keep them off you long enough.”

  Agurk smiled a bloodthirsty grin at Rondo.

  Broden nodded and dashed towards the aftercastle as Kalfinar burst into the cabin. Chentuck entered next, followed by a knife-wielding Evelyne.

  *

  Despite being dimly lit, the situation in the cabin was clear: three raiders, one young woman who was probably Daughter of the People, and the most beautiful light Kalfinar had ever seen. Beneath the splendid glow was another young woman. A raider stood behind each women holding knives to their throats. Another raider stood before them. He held two small hatchets, spinning them as a wicked grin split his stubbled face.

  “Don’t be foolish,” the raider spat, his accent marking him a Salt Coast Solansian. The man licked his cracked lips, his tongue darting in and out like some kind of rotten lizard.

  “Kalfinar,” Evelyne whispered, “the Horn.”

  “Shut up, fucking bitch!” the raider snapped. “Kill those fu—”

  Kalfinar’s hatchet snapped through the air, burying deep into the face of the raider. The man went rigid and toppled backwards with his arms flush to his side, hatchets still gripped.

  Chentuck leapt into action and engaged the raider holding the knife to the Daughter of the People’s throat.