Dawn of the Valiant (The Valerious Chronicles: Book One)
Page 22
The following day the weather turned increasingly savage. The Stride was halfway through its journey and in the middle of the Sea of Turmoil. Now it seemed as though the goddess Nyrune was throwing everything that she had at them.
Thibalt had never experienced a storm of such magnitude. The torrential winds blew a constant spray of painful water into his eyes and the ship itself was being torn apart. Reinar had predicted that the storm would last a few days, but the crew was unsure whether the ship would survive a few hours.
Every last man on the ship had been enlisted to help out as the storm tore sails and ropes apart. The fore mast had snapped in half as they had entered the storm and torn through the deck as it landed. Thibalt was amongst the men repairing the damage it had dealt. His opinion on seafaring had now changed dramatically and he found himself wishing desperately to touch his feet on dry land once more.
They worked tirelessly to fix the ship as the winds and heavy rain caused further havoc for the crew. Massive waves struck the Iron Stride and washed those on deck from their feet. On the fourth day since hitting the rough waters, they lost two crew members to the dark sea. They had been mending the aft railing when a flash wave had carried them overboard. The entire crew was so busy that they had not been found missing until the next morning. After that, the thought of throwing Cathan over the side whilst no one was looking had entered Thibalt's mind.
Gradually as time wore on, the swell in the water calmed and the winds died down until on the ninth day they were free of the storm. Glad to be on calm seas again, Thibalt slid down against the railing to get some much needed rest.
He was stirred from his slumber only moments later as a commotion was building up near the entrance to the lower decks. He stood up and pushed his way through the gathered men to see what the fuss was about. When he finally caught a glimpse, he caught his breath.
Standing in the doorway to the lower decks was Christill, with Geron holding his arms tightly behind his back. His clothes were filthy and tattered and his cheeks were drawn and dark showing a lack of sleep and nourishment. One of the sailors called Reinar from his cabin and he stormed onto the deck in a furious mood.
"What is it?" he yelled, but before anyone could answer he saw Christill and stopped in his tracks.
Geron pushed Christill into the middle of the circle that had formed around them. "I found this one trying to get into the store room. He has been hiding out amongst the repair materials. We would have never found him if we hadn't needed so much timber during the storm."
Christill spotted his brother and quickly turned away. The brother that Thibalt had known was gone. Christill's gaze betrayed the hatred that he held for these soldiers. His face was covered in dirt and stubble and he stood hunched, shoulders sunk low.
Reinar composed himself. "You have broken the laws of our people, Christill. What have you to say for yourself?"
Christill spat on the floor. "The laws of your people. Not mine," he said bitterly. "I could not care less."
The raiders began to protest and made outright threats upon Christill's life. Reinar clenched his fists in anger. The betrayal and humiliation he now faced was too much. He took a deep breath and calmly raised his hand to silence them. "So this is how it ends then. What was your plan, to creep out at night and slit our throats as we sleep?"
"No! Unlike you and your race I am not a monster. I do not kill innocent people and then kidnap their children," Christill replied, placing emphasis on the last phrase.
"Do not speak of things you know nothing of!" Reinar roared furiously. "Had I not taken you cursed whelps into my home you would likely be lying dead in a dark alleyway by now."
Thibalt stared open mouthed at Reinar. For his whole life Thibalt had thought that he understood his foster father, but he could not stand back and let him talk to his brother like that. "Stop this!" he shouted.
Reinar glared at Thibalt and then back at Christill. "How did you get onboard?"
"Your thick headed crew carried me on."
Reinar now understood.
"You were not supposed to find me. I am leaving your people for good. I am returning to my real homeland."
"Lock him in one of the cells," Reinar yelled at Geron. "Very well, Christill. If you want to go back to Feldom, then we will show it to you. As we burn it to the ground."
Christill struggled as two soldiers dragged him back below deck. Reinar barked at the rest of the crew and they dispersed to return to their duties. Thibalt waited then ran off after Reinar.
"How can you talk to him like that?" Thibalt asked.
Reinar turned and looked Thibalt in the eyes. "You heard him. He is not my son. Why should I care about him." He then turned his back to Thibalt and stormed away to his quarters.
Thibalt sat down, his head spinning. What was happening? In the last month so much had changed that he could no longer fathom any of it.
Inside the captains quarters Reinar sat with his head in his hands. Great Beon, What have I done to deserve this, he thought as he felt tears form in his eyes. He could no longer stand up for Christill without completely forsaking his family name. Kera deserved more than that. Christill would need to be punished for betraying the trust of the Miirvkin people.