Dawn of the Valiant (The Valerious Chronicles: Book One)

by Julian Saheed

The first three days passed and the excitement of embarking on a new raid had worn off. The cold, dead chill of the Sea of Turmoil had sunk in. Most of the soldiers, who had nothing to do with their time, grew restless and overcome with boredom. To avoid trouble Thibalt had volunteered his time to Geron and had been put to work with the rest of the crew. He took whatever work was given to him, scrubbing the decks and learning to mend lines and was grateful for the distraction that it provided.

  The other Miirvkin soldiers ridiculed and did what they could to hinder him, but he refused to let it bother him. To make up the long hours he followed the crewmen around, watching them go about their tasks. He picked up the basic skills that the sailors possessed swiftly and at night kept to himself below deck. Luckily the size of the Iron Stride enabled him to avoid the others when necessary, in particular Cathan who had taken to ordering the crewmen around to satisfy his own whims.

  With each passing day Thibalt found himself avoiding the other Miirvkin more and more. Reinar spent little time above deck and had not said more than a few words to Thibalt since their departure. Thibalt suspected that Christill's disappearance had effected Reinar more than he cared to reveal. And the sight of Thibalt only served to reopen the fresh wounds in Reinar's mind.

  At meal times Thibalt was forced to wait until all others had been served and sat by himself. He was now beginning to understand the isolation that Christill had felt for so long. In Hamal Thibalt had been able to avoid it to a certain extent. At Beanon's forges, the smiths had shown some acceptance of his skills and Palen and the other apprentices had even considered him a friend of sorts. However on the Iron Stride he was utterly alone.

  Late into the evening, as the soldiers sat below deck eating their supper, Thibalt overheard the ships cook and Reinar talking.

  "It does'n make sense to me, Lord Reinar. Tha' much meat couldn'a been stolen or eaten by anyone in a day. An' then why would anyone throw it overboard," said the cook.

  Reinar stroked his temples, heavy circles visible under his eyes and replied, "It does seem out of place. You say the whole barrel was empty."

  "A few scraps left, but one thing was odd."

  "What?" asked Reinar, looking up from his meal.

  The cook looked around and lowered his voice. "The scraps had been chewed on, and in the bottom of the barrel there were a bunch of strips tha' had been flattened. As though somethin' heavy was placed on top of em."

  "Keep your eye open and put a crew member on watch in the store room," Reinar replied. "It could be rats, but I find it hard to believe that they could consume that much food. Sounds like someone may have brought something that they shouldn't have on board."

  The cook nodded then walked off back toward the kitchen. Thibalt took note of this and returned to his supper. He knew enough to tell when Reinar was concerned.