“Why do you say that?” Laedron asked.
“A Sorbian Sorcerer? Coming all this way to free us from an unknown enemy? The theocracy would have lost the war, and you easily could have left us to the path of destruction. Instead, you came and did away with Andolis.”
“No, we couldn’t have sat idly by. Scores of our countrymen would have been killed, many more than we’ve already lost. My presence here is self-interest as much as anything else.”
“We can be glad that your self-interest has matched up well with our mutual interests, then,” Demetrius said, smiling.
* * *
The coach rolled to a halt near the docks, and Laedron caught a glimpse of the ship that would carry them to Nessadene, the largest city in the south of Lasoron. Laedron read the name painted on the side of the vessel. The Galerunner. Opening the door, the coachman extended his hand for each of them as they departed the cab, then stacked their bags on the pier.
“You’ve been a great help, Master Hale. We appreciate this special favor,” Laedron said.
“And you, too. The ship’s sound and shall carry you swiftly to your destination.” Demetrius produced a pipe and chewed on the end, presumably due to a lack of fire to light it. “May Azura, the Creator, or the Fates, whichever you believe in, take you safely there.”
Laedron raised an eyebrow. “A scholar such as yourself doesn’t know to whom or what sorcerers pay their respects? The Creator, of course.”
“The Creator, then. Customs and culture were always lost on me, my young friend. I apologize.”
“No need. Farewell,” Laedron replied, picking up his bag. Glancing back at the street by which they had come, Laedron thought of Jurgen and the trials and tribulations of their journey together. Perhaps he couldn’t bring himself to say goodbye this last time. Then he glimpsed the white horses drawing a white coach coming over the hill above the docks, and his heart warmed.
The Grand Vicar’s carriage stopped next to him, and Jurgen stepped down from the cab and embraced Laedron.
“I thought you wouldn’t make it,” Laedron said.
Jurgen grinned. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. And I have one last thing to give you.”
“What else could you give me that you haven’t already?”
Jurgen returned to his carriage, retrieved a scroll, and handed it to Laedron. “A ledger.”
“A ledger? What’s this for?”
“I spent quite a while this morning sorting through all of our old records. This ledger indicates the place from which the Farrah Harridan books originated, an address in Lasoron that may prove useful.” Jurgen grinned. “It’s yours. Farewell, my friend.”
“Farewell.” Laedron turned away and ascended the gangplank, giving Jurgen one last wave.
Valyrie hugged Jurgen before joining Laedron on the ship. Once they had all boarded, the crew pulled up the footbridge and untied the vessel from the dock.
A young man sporting the uniform of an Arcanist scholar approached. “Greetings. I am Bannelt, day navigator of this ship. Being that the vessel and the water upon which we sail belong to the Arcanists, I would be the one you should see for any question or concern.”
“Day navigator?” Marac asked.
Bannelt nodded. “We have a day navigator and a night navigator, for we cannot watch the sea all day and night without rest.”
Seems I would have been fit for that job, Laedron mused, thinking of his sleepless nights over the past week. “You’re the captain and the day navigator? You seem rather young for those tasks.”
“And I might point out that you seem a bit young, the lot of you, to be our blessed saviors.” The young man grinned with a certain arrogance. “I would have thought that my peers wouldn’t discriminate based merely upon my age, and especially not without seeing me in action.”
“Point taken,” Marac said, nudging Laedron.
“I meant no offense, and I apologize. I only mean to say that every ship’s captain that we’ve met thus far has been well along in years.”
“Perhaps that is a necessity on the open sea,” Bannelt said, gesturing for them to follow when he turned. “On the Sea of Pillars, you only need be gifted in the navigation symbols which guide the way. The helmsman is my second-in-command, and he is skilled in the handling of the ship and crew.”
Laedron glanced at the large wheel on the bridge, the man behind it carefully piloting the boat on its departure from the dock. “I’m intrigued to hear more about these symbols.”
“I can reveal little about them, unfortunately.”
“That’s something I wanted to ask you about. Why must the Arcanists be so secretive? Why the special navigational code?”
“To protect the ruins of Azuroth and the security of the theocracy. Things have not always been as they are now. In the centuries and millennium past, the Sea of Pillars served as a natural barrier to rampaging barbarian hordes and the intrigue of foreign nations. After the Great War, it served to protect the early settlers from many threats from the east, and we maintain these secrets so that the gains it offers will not be jeopardized.”
“So, the Arcanists agree with Azura’s use of magic?” Laedron asked when Bannelt stopped near the forecastle door.
“Not necessarily, no, but we must use that which exists to our advantage. Knowledge, science, technology, and yes, even magically created seas, can be exploited for our security and benefit.” Bannelt opened the door. “We are faithful to the church, and we hold knowledge and science above any mystical meddling.”
“Meddling? A true sorcerer is just as methodical and scholarly as any of the Arcanists I’ve met. What was that you said about judging people prematurely?”
“My apologies. I meant no harm with my comments. My only purpose was to explain our differences.”
“The symbols, what are they?” Brice asked, apparently trying to keep the exchange friendly.
Bannelt glanced at Brice. “According to all the records we possess, the pillars came about with symbols across each face, and the patterns were unique to each one, for the most part.”
Laedron furrowed his brow. “For the most part?”
“The patterns indicate our location in the sea, and it took years to find them and assign them a meaning.”
“You don’t know what they actually say?”
“No, but the patterns are indicative of the pillar you’re viewing, and you use that information to determine where you are and what your next turn will be. During our training, we memorize the ones we’ll need to know for a given route, and unless we are retrained or reassigned, we run that route our entire lives. All Arcanists must serve their time aboard the ships before moving on to bigger and better things. Some never move past navigation, and some like it that way.”
Laedron stepped through the door behind Bannelt, observing the comfortable, albeit cramped, living space. “These are our quarters?”
“Yes. The ship doesn’t allow for plush staterooms or fine dining halls due to its size, but I’m sure you’ll find them suitable for a couple of days.”
Laedron nodded, and Bannelt left. They each selected a bunk, but Laedron piled his belongings on the mattress instead of stowing them underneath. It’s not as if I need a place to rest.
“I think I’ll take a look around the ship,” Laedron said. “I have some more questions for our host, as well.” Exiting the forecastle, Laedron made his way aft where the bridge stood high above the water.
With a spyglass in hand, Bannelt said, “Begin your turn now. Two points to the port.”
Without hesitation, the helmsman rapidly turned the steering wheel, and Laedron felt the tilt of the vessel beneath his feet. He joined Bannelt on the bridge deck. The spires and silver and gold banners of Azura grew smaller in the distance as they exited the channel and entered the Sea of Pillars. In the vastness of the sea, pillars shone in the afternoon light, looking like the spear points of an entire army aimed toward the heavens.
“Might I have a word?
” Laedron asked.
“You’ll have to wait. Another turn ahead,” Bannelt replied. A few moments later, he added, “Starboard, five points. Quickly now.”
Laedron was forced to grab the wooden railing to keep his balance during the turn. “Is the whole trip to be like this?”
“No, we have few turns as sharp as that.” Bannelt called to the helmsman, “Straight and steady on until I tell you otherwise,” then turned back to Laedron. “Your questions?”
“This sea is a mystery to me. Could small ships not traverse without being destroyed?”
“No. Even rafts would have great trouble making it more than a few miles.”
“Why is that?”
“The pillars you see aren’t the only ones. Come. Look here.” Bannelt came alongside Laedron and leaned over the rail. “You can see the points below the waves if you look closely.”
Laedron spotted sharp points revealed by the occasional trough. “Creator! How many spikes lie below the waves?”
“More than you could ever count. Enough to impale an entire army of undead,” Bannelt said.
Laedron recalled the story Ismerelda had told him about Vrolosh’s army and how it had been destroyed when Azura called the spikes up from the earth. The deluge she had cast afterward had apparently concealed the shorter projections. “And you know how to miss them all?”
Bannelt sighed. “As I told you, we’re highly trained for our routes. If it were easy, everyone would travel the Sea of Pillars. It took the original Arcanists a long time to document the pillars and the safe passes through the water.”
Nodding, Laedron said, “Truly remarkable. I can see we’re in good hands.”
“The best, if I might say so.”
“How long do you think it will take to reach Nessadene?” Laedron asked.
“Tomorrow night. No later.”
Not wanting to irritate the captain with a barrage of questions, Laedron simply nodded in reply. I wouldn’t want to distract him and cause us to crash into one of those spikes. “I’ll leave you to it, Master Bannelt.”
“Thank you.” Bannelt returned to the helmsman’s side. “Oh, and one other thing. Meals aren’t served aboard the ship; you acquire your food from the stores on your own schedule.”
“The food isn’t rationed?”
“No need. We spend so little time at sea that we would reach land well before starving or even becoming uncomfortably hungry.”
Laedron returned to the forecastle, and upon opening the door, he felt a sharp pain in his hand.
Then, he heard a gasp, and Brice said, “Lae! I’m sorry!”
The blood poured from Laedron’s palm like a dam that had given way to a reservoir, and he spotted a bloody blade in Brice’s hand and a clean one in Marac’s.
“What in the hells?” Laedron shouted.
Valyrie took Laedron by the arm and pressed on his hand with a cloth. “They were practicing—”
“Practicing? You’ve nearly sliced off my hand!” Laedron writhed in pain, and the cloth that Valyrie had pressed against his skin quickly became saturated.
“I’m sorry, Lae,” Brice said again. “I didn’t mean to.”
“What were you doing practicing in here? You couldn’t go out on the deck? In the open?”
“He was showing me a move. I’m—”
“Silence.” Laedron shook his head, then moaned from the excruciating pain.
Valyrie snatched away the cloth, replacing it with a fresh one. “What’s this?”
The flow of blood had stopped completely, and only a red smear besmirched the clean rag. Laedron examined either side of his hand in astonishment.
“Must not have been that deep,” Brice said, crouching beside Laedron.
Laedron gasped, “How can this be?”
“Like I said, it wasn’t deep, right?”
“No, it went down to the bone.” Valyrie took hold of Laedron’s wrist and turned his hand. “Now, nothing. Not even a scratch.”
Marac pursed his lips. “The spell Jurgen cast. It must be.”
Glancing at Marac, Laedron’s jaw dropped. “I can’t sleep, I never tire, and now I cannot be injured?”
“I don’t know,” Marac said, “but I think we should work quickly to find out once we reach Lasoron. I hope this Farrah Harridan person can tell us something.”
Valyrie shrugged. “I hope that we can find her at all.”
* * *
The remainder of that day and the next passed without incident, and evening set over the sea for the second time. Laedron pondered the possibilities and mysteries of the spell that had been placed on him, unable to come to a conclusion about its full impact on his body and his life. He experienced the gamut of thoughts and emotions attributed to the changes he had seen, his gladness for being saved from death and his abhorrence to the undesirable side effects, his newfound abilities along with his inhuman faults, and the unknown with the realized.
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Nessadene at Nightfall
The last one,” Bannelt said, pointing at the pillar passing the starboard side. “Straight on from here, we’ll make the port of Nessadene.”
“Good. I’m eager to get there,” Laedron replied
Bannelt nodded. “I see that. My day’s ended, and the night watch will be on to take you into the harbor. Best of luck.”
“And to you. Thank you for your courtesy.”
Valyrie walked across the deck. “How are you feeling?”
“Well. Better than I could ever expect at this late hour.”
She leaned on the railing. “Do you think we’ll find Farrah Harridan?”
“We can do nothing but try, I’m afraid. She’s our only lead.” Laedron ducked his head. “Do you find me repulsive?”
“What? No! Why do you ask that?”
“I’ve noticed you keeping your distance of late. You stopped visiting me at night, so I began to wonder if I had done or said something to offend you.”
“No.” She sighed. “I didn’t want to torment you.”
“Torment me? After what we’ve shared, how could you ever think that you were tormenting me?”
“I know that you haven’t been sleeping.”
“And what does that have to do with it?”
“In some small way, I thought that you might be upset at me for sleeping so well while you lay awake, unable to do that simple human act. I didn’t want you to feel any worse.”
He shook his head. “That wouldn’t have upset me, Val. None of this is your fault. It’s no one’s fault. It’s happened, and we must find out what to do about it.”
“I agree, but I’m afraid of what lies ahead,” she said, taking his hand in hers. “I’ve heard that the streets of Nessadene can be difficult for those inexperienced with the city.”
“Whatever happens, I’ll protect you. You need not worry about your safety.”
“No, now’s not the time for that. We must simply say that we’ll watch out for each other.”
“You doubt my abilities?”
“No, and don’t be too sure, Lae,” she said, resting her head against his shoulder. “We all know that you’re a gifted sorcerer, but you have to learn to rely on us more than you do.”
He lifted her chin. “The battles with the Drakars should have taught me that, but it took you reminding me for it to truly settle in.”
“What happened with them? With Gustav and Andolis?”
Turning away, he said, “No matter now. All of that is in the past.”
“I’d like to know.”
“Why?”
“To better understand you. To know what you went through to get here.”
“All right, if you must.” He cleared his throat and took hold of the railing with either hand. “I found Gustav in the Pilgrim’s Rest cathedral after he captured Marac and Mikal. I fought with him from his inner sanctum, up the stairs, and in front of the congregation. He was powerful, far
stronger with magic than I ever imagined, but I survived.”
“How did you defeat him?”
“I caused a massive chandelier to fall, crushing him, and I took my teacher’s scepter back that day.”
“And Andolis?”
“I never defeated him.”
She looked confused. “But, he is dead?”
“The killing stroke belongs to Marac. Andolis had beaten me completely, bested me in magic on every exchange. If Marac hadn’t been there, I would have died, and your city would be burning still.”
“If your friend hadn’t been there, you would have failed,” she said, giving him a smile.
“You’re right.” He took her hands and gently squeezed them, then he looked across the sea and spotted the glow of light on the horizon. “One day soon, I hope that we’ll be free of these troubles, that we can live our lives normally, like everyone else.”
“With me at your side?”
Laedron swallowed deeply. “I hope that will be the case.”
“You have no need to hope for it.” She kissed him. “Hope is only necessary when either heart is unwilling.”
“Be that as it may, we have much left before us and many questions unanswered. I don’t want us to act in haste, for we could face any manner of danger in the days ahead.”
She nodded. “Very well. After.”
Watching her walk away, Laedron sensed her disappointment and couldn’t let that be the last word of the evening. “I don’t want to hurt you, on purpose or otherwise.”
“You won’t,” she said, turning back. “You can’t.”
Can’t I? What if the only answer to my current condition is my death?
More of the crew walked onto the bridge after Valyrie returned to the forecastle. Without a word, they kept the ship on a steady course toward that ominous glow in the distant sky. Nessadene. He had been told that it was a large, magnificent city, and he would soon walk its streets and mingle with its populace.
As the city inched closer, Laedron spotted the tallest of its towers. He found it interesting that all of the buildings seemed to be of a square or rectangular design. Whereas all the places he’d visited before had a mixture of angular and round designs, he couldn’t spot the first cylindrical structure. Odd. Not even the lighthouse is circular at the base.
The Consuls of the Vicariate Page 24