‘They’re still at sea on my ship, the Grimaldi, approximately a few hours from the coast of Cape Caipora.’ The captain was now profusely sweating; it dripped from his face and landed onto his leather outfit, running down his body in black, glistening trails. ‘After the battle, I flew here immediately on griffon-back to deliver you the news, my lord.’
‘I see.’ The bristling brows eased slightly, the displeasure receding somewhat. ‘Cape Caipora.’ Malus brooded in thought for a moment, then frowned again. ‘Were all the enemy casualties accounted for?’
‘Er… no, my lord,’ the captain said sullenly. ‘I presume some of them drowned at sea, when they jumped into the waters. We tried searching for them, but the storm was fierce and I didn’t want to lose my griffon squadron to the elements. There is little chance that someone can survive in those waters for long.’
‘You presume?’ the dark elf said, his eyes reproachful.
‘The seas were very rough in that storm–’
Malus stood up immediately, causing the captain to wince, but he turned his back on the visitor and walked over to the window to gaze at the execution yard below. But the punishments were far from his mind when he glanced back at the captain. ‘Captain Hargonnas,’ Malus began, calling the elf by name for the first time, which further unsettled the warrior. ‘Wouldn’t you agree that there’s a possibility that at least one of these mana-less humans could have somehow survived?’
‘Yes, my lord,’ said the captain. ‘It’s a possibility.’
The dark elf began to pace back and forth in front of the window. ‘It seems to me, therefore, that at least one of these humans could have reached the shores around Cape Caipora.’ Hearing no response, Malus took an exasperated breath and raised his voice. ‘Thus, there’s a possibility that one of these humans could enter Ordonia, the land of our enemy and home of the Mana Knights, without being caught.’
‘My lord, we combed the seas after the battle–’
‘Did you talk to the two survivors, yet?’
‘No, my lord.’
‘Then there was no way you could determine how many humans were on those three ships, and how many humans are unaccounted for.’
‘No, my lord.’
‘Do you remember my warnings about these humans across the sea, Captain Hargonnas?’
The captain’s expression changed from discomfort to one of confusion. ‘That they will bring disaster, my lord?’
‘Not just disaster, Hargonnas… A calamity!’ The dark elf spread his hands upward for dramatic emphasis.
The captain, now completely lost, could only stare at his lord. ‘My lord, if I may?’
‘Yes, Captain?’
‘After fighting those humans, I don’t think they have the capacity to cause trouble to our army as a whole.’
Malus turned back to face the captain, and affixed him with a ferocious gaze, causing the captain to shrivel under its intensity as the air in the room tingled with a fierce magical energy. Most men would have dropped to their knees in terror. The captain remained standing, though very unsettled. ‘I will only make this clear one time, captain. You serve my army to follow my orders – not think for me. I do the thinking. Do you understand?’
The captain took a step back from Malus, bowed his head and held it there. ‘Yes, my lord.’
‘Do not underestimate these humans. They are the Cursed Ones. They caused our ancestors much grief long ago, but we almost eradicated them, and the survivors fled out to sea. Our ancestors made the mistake thinking they would die there, but as you can see, that is not the case,’ Malus said, noticing the shock on Hargonnas’s face. He continued, ‘I will not make the mistake of our ancestors. If these mana-less vermin from across the sea reach Ordonia, then we will have a problem beyond the comprehension of that egg-sized brain of yours.’
‘Yes, my lord.’
With a thoughtful, pensive air, Malus clasped his hands behind his back, and the magical aura emanating from him dissipated. ‘Therefore,’ he continued in a low, deadly tone, ‘I think it would be best if you inform the other ships of the fleet, gather the other griffon squadrons, and organise a large search party at Cape Caipora. If that was the closest piece of land where the battle occurred, I want you to sift through those sandy shores, comb through the forests beyond, and scour the rocks and mountains for any trace of the Cursed Ones. They must not be allowed into Ordonia!’
‘Yes, my lord,’ Captain Hargonnas said, summoning what was left of his pride and dignity and straightening his posture. ‘If I may, my lord?’
The dark elf waved, allowing him to continue.
‘The Mana Knights have a small outpost on Cape Caipora. Surely they’ll object to our presence there.’
‘Destroy them. The outpost is a lighthouse that is barely manned, and we don’t need a bunch of knights digging into our business.’
‘And the humans across the sea, my lord? If we find any, shall we slaughter them?’ The Captain sounded hopeful.
‘No.’ The dark elf frowned. ‘Try all means to capture them first. If that doesn’t work, then you can dispose of them. Be sure to bring me the bodies for confirmation, and tell your men…’ Malus paused in thought, then smiled. ‘Tell your men that for each body discovered, I will pay five golden crowns. And for each live one discovered, I will pay fifteen golden crowns.’
Captain Hargonnas gasped in surprise. It would take him a whole year to earn fifteen gold crowns, much less a common soldier. ‘Yes, my lord! I will tell them.’
‘Also tell them,’ the dark elf continued, ‘that if they bring me a human corpse that is not from across the sea, then they will join the prisoners at the chopping block below.’ Malus gave a shooing motion with his hand. ‘You are dismissed.’
The elven captain, happy to have survived, breathed a sigh of relief, bowed and shuffled towards the exit as quickly as his leather-encased legs would take him. He reached the door and opened it.
‘Wait,’ Malus called out.
The armoured elf paused, turned and swallowed nervously. ‘Yes, my lord?’
‘Don’t you wear that ridiculous ensemble in my presence ever again. Understood?’
‘Yes, my lord.’
‘Now go!’
The captain did not require further prodding. In his hurry, he inadvertently slammed the door shut, causing Malus to jump and scowl. He did not like the captain at all, but he was powerful in the magical arts and was cruel and efficient enough to get the job done. Still, he could not erase the image of the captain in his skin-tight leather trousers gilt in silver lining. He shook his head to remove the disturbing image, stood up and walked back to the window to look at the yard below. Already finished with the first half of the prisoners, the executioner and his assistants were piling the severed heads and body parts onto a cart. The dark elf sighed, his mind wandering far away from the gory scene. The news from the captain disturbed him greatly and rid him of all joy he received from watching the executions. Moreover, he did not trust the captain. He returned to his desk, sat down, and pulled out a journal.
And so, in the year 964, almost a millennium after the Celestial War, the Einar attempted to cross the sea to return to Alban, Malus wrote in his journal. If even one surviving Einar makes it, then I fear the worst for my empire.
* * *
Kairos drifted along the waves in the bright sunlight. He shivered in the cold water and felt weaker by the moment. All he needed to do was let go and give up. He was too scared to do even that. He feared drowning. The idea of inhaling water made him cling to the broken piece of the longship with reborn desperation.
Regret haunted his mind. He should have given his life with honour. It was the duty of an Einar to fight to the last man… Not run away like his cousin Viklo. The memory of the Wolf Fang fleeing from battle, leaving the rest of the Einar to their fate made Kairos seethe with rage. Viklo was a coward! Yet, I’m no different. He’d fled, too. The image of dying in that battle of beasts and magic seemed less noble afte
r he had seen his comrades slaughtered. It was not like the bard songs at all. He heard the screams of pain. Smelt the blood and shit of spilt guts. He was lucky to be alive from that battle, but if he did not live through this ordeal at sea, all would be lost.
He looked around the open endless sea. Water everywhere… and not a drop to drink. Thirst threatened to consume him. Hunger left him weak, while the cold water tempted to pull him under. He wondered which of these he would succumb to first.
As the sun fell, the sky turned a purplish pink. To Kairos it sounded as if the ocean was speaking to him, softly urging him to let go and slip into its dark depths for a long rest. Perhaps it was Rudras coming to take his soul. His mind began to wander, and he thought of Thylar; his brother’s face clear in his mind, smiling and beckoning.
Other faces floated through his vision. His mother. His friend, Jonick. Mad Mavos. His father. He would never see them again.
His thoughts turned to the events of the last few days. He had learnt so many things on this voyage, saw many new things: serpents, flying beasts, dwarves, and magic – and lost so much because of them. Where did they come from? Did they live somewhere across the sea?
He lifted his head suddenly and coughed. He must have dozed off, his head slipping underwater briefly. He looked around tiredly at the dimming horizon. He thought he saw something. It was far away. Maybe it was a vision. His brother’s last words came into his mind, ‘No matter what happens, you must survive.’
Cold, parched, and hungry, Kairos wouldn’t live for long out here, but he wasn’t going to give up, either. He muttered a prayer to Rudras to take him towards what he had seen. Out in the desolate sea, it was his beacon of hope in the darkness.
Chapter two
Cape Caipora
Cape Caipora, named after the fox-like people who inhabit the region. The Ordonians have long considered the caipora a nuisance to humanity and have all but driven them to extinction. Those remaining caipora hide themselves away in the forests and mountains near Cape Caipora, and avoid civilised races at all costs. A few small Ordonians settlements have appeared in the Cape Caipora region in the past few decades, but it is a wilderness untamed and far from civilisation.
A History of Cape Caipora, Professor Jomur
G
ulliver left his living quarters, an old cottage of flagstone walls and a thatched roof, at the tip of Cape Caipora and started towards the lighthouse, which overlooked the sea from its rocky crag. Gulliver had found it beautiful when he had first arrived. That was then. Now he hated the place, hated the ocean. He wished to be anywhere else but this boring place. Sure, the storm during the previous night provided a splendid view of lightning and surging waves, and he saw mysterious lights, as well, myriad oranges and reds on the sea’s horizon. That was the highlight of his week, and eventually the strange lights subsided and he could see nothing else.
The sky was clear today, promising another day of counting the birds. Gulliver thought about the strange lights of the previous night. They were not lightning flashes, but like powerful magic spells. Perhaps they were part of his imagination? They had to be, because nothing happened here, and there was no reason why there would be someone out at sea casting magic. He pulled a handkerchief from his pouch and wiped his face. The humidity here always made him feel oily – another of his many reasons to hate Cape Caipora. And speaking of oil, he had to store his armour in an oiled sack to prevent rust. He never wore it anyway. There was no need, because nothing threatened him out here except boredom.
As a low-ranking Wolf Knight, Gulliver should have been taking on missions to slay evil creatures rampaging the countryside or meting out justice for the innocent. Those grand schemes came to an abrupt end a few months ago, when Gulliver crossed an archduke. He punched the archduke’s son who was drunk and terrorising the local populace at a tavern. The son cried to his father, who had friends of position and power in the Knighthood, and they took retaliatory measures against Gulliver, which led to his reassignment in lieu of being discharged altogether. His new assignment was the lighthouse at Cape Caipora, and his main mission to watch the sea for anything coming from across it, whether it be Malus’s army or ‘anything suspicious’ that might lurk in its waters, and report it immediately. He shook his head in disgust; it was the same as chasing fairy tales. Everyone knew that there was nothing across the sea. The lighthouse at Cape Caipora was a post as old as the Knighthood, but every knight knew that it was a whipping post, a place to send the unwanted knights as a form of punishment.
Indeed it was a whipping post, Gulliver mused. There were no young damsels or citizens to serve. His only company were a fellow senior knight, Tanton, who did nothing but complain, and a hound named Max, who was more pleasant, but did nothing but lounge lazily about and beg for treats.
‘Stop chattin’ nonsense, willya?’ Tanton said at the breakfast table on the ground level of the lighthouse. He was also a Wolf Knight who had been assigned to the lighthouse for almost a decade, a fate he seemed to accept with contentment, though he never admitted the reasons for being sent out there: ‘We don’t ‘ave to do nothin’ an’ the fishin’s blinkin’ great.’
Gulliver eyed Tanton in disapproval, noting that the older knight appeared to have eaten his fill of fish, judging by his protruding girth.
‘We are supposed to keep vigil of the sea…’ Gulliver began, knowing it was useless to talk duty to the older knight. ‘Haven’t you ever wondered why? There’s nothing out here.’
‘That’s the best part – there’s nuffink at sea! Wot the ‘eck is there to complain ’bout? Just eat, sleep, fish, an’ play hounds-n-jackals. An’ the drink.’ Tanton took a swig from the mead bottle and belched.
‘We’re not supposed to drink mead while on duty,’ Gulliver said with stern disapproval. ‘How did you get that out here anyway?’
‘Relax, mate. I ’ave merchant friends. Besides, nuffink ever ’appens out ’ere. Now wot was yer name? Gully, innit? Why dontcha make yerself useful ‘an watch the sea instea’ of gripe at me like sum ol’ naggin’ housewive?’
Gulliver bit back the answer that he wanted to blurt out, which was something to the effect that Tanton had never been with a woman to experience the nagging, but he had learnt that any retorts rebounded harmlessly off the older knight, and only earned him more chores. Tanton was the senior knight, after all, and that meant he was in charge. Better to just do his job, which was observe the seas, and avoid Tanton in the process.
‘Yes, sir,’ he answered, gritting his teeth as he turned away. He did not know how long he could tolerate the older knight, who was lacking in morals, motivation, and very much all of the positive traits that were supposed to embody a Mana Knight. At least watching the sea did not anger Gulliver. The water and the waves did not indulge in ill habits or order him around like a house servant, so he resigned himself to another dull day of watching the puffins and the waves.
He wished something would happen out there. Anything!
He climbed to the top of the lighthouse to begin his daily vigilance over the sea, cursing the luck of his life. He thought about how his fellow knights from the Academy were faring. They were probably embarking on adventurous quests, saving lives, and attaining their own bits of glory, he thought, while he rotted away into oblivion on this narrow strip of land, watching the ocean. He sighed in self-pity and looked up. The sky looked clear except for some clouds in the far west. He gazed down at the shore and blinked. He leant forward over the stone wall.
Debris. From a ship. Pieces of shattered wooden planks littered the shore. A shipwreck!
He raced down the stairs of the lighthouse to the living quarters where Tanton lounged and excitedly explained what he saw.
Tanton listened with droopy eyes and yawned. ‘Prolly a fishin’ boat. Nuffink to worry ’bout. These things ’appen. You can go an’ see if ya like. Lemme know if there’s any fishin’ rods!’
Gulliver snorted in disgust and went to the sandy shores alone. He
saw an oar, a broken cask, and part of a ship’s hull. He walked farther along the beach, his heart racing. This was the most excitement he had experienced since his arrival at Cape Caipora a few months ago. But the scene also troubled him. What happened to the occupants of the ship? He shrugged away the morbid thought, instead focusing on what he could find. He saw another oar laying in the sand, and a few planks scattered further beyond. Then, he saw the serpent’s head, broken off at the neck as if howling in pain and anger. This is no bloody fishing boat, he thought, letting out an involuntary shudder. He made the sign of Zemus in an effort to ward off the evil of the serpent’s visage.
‘Whoever these people are, they worshipped an evil god,’ Gulliver muttered.
Uncertainty began to seep into his skin as he trudged along the sandy shore past the reach of the lapping waves. He expected to find something more. A corpse? Treasure? He continued searching and suddenly froze. Fresh footprints etched a path on the sand above the ebb of the high tide, leading away from the lighthouse and towards the forest.
He paused. Was someone shipwrecked overnight? Why didn’t Max bark? He gave an involuntary tremor at the thought that this unknown person could have killed him and Tanton in their sleep. He gazed nervously at the forest in the far distance, wondering whether to report to Tanton first. No, he thought, better to leave the drunk knight alone. Tanton wouldn’t budge anyway, so Gulliver set out towards the forest alone. He grimaced when he looked at the ground. The heavy rains from the previous night made it a quagmire, and before long Gulliver became plastered with mud, but the footprints were apparently made after the rain, which made them easy to follow.
By the time he reached the inland forest, his legs burned from the muddy slog, and heavy clouds began darkening the sky from the west, threatening rain. He was loath to enter the shadowy forest alone, because even during the clearest of days, very little light filtered through the gloomy interior of the woods.
Gulliver hesitated. The few locals inland told tales of caiporas, the dangerous fox-like people the region was named after, living in the woods. These tales told how people went into the forests and wound up missing, never to return. This was their territory, after all. Tanton told him not to worry about the caiporas because they were harmless. That was easy for Tanton to say – he never ventured into the forest.
Cursed Knight Page 4