by D C Ware
The Adamante had been at port at Kings Harbor for two days. Quartermaster Lucretia had convinced Captain Milan to put in citing the ‘mood’ of the crew about trying to make the trek to the Arachald Isles with the storm approaching.
The compass was paying off. The storm it predicted two days ago had come and it was violent. There were reports that two ships were lost, The Fair Child a merchant vessel and The Distaff a private ship. Two others were forced to put in after being severely damaged.
The Adamante on the other hand, thanks to the compass, and Quartermaster Lucretia was unharmed with no loss of crew or cargo. The entire crew had been in a good mood about the turn of affairs and almost all of them were thanking Oxley “The Haymaker.” That was what they were starting to call him based on the reports of the spirited fight he put up when he was gang pressed (of course Oxley did not realize that the ‘Haymaker’ moniker referred to the blow that Bosun Rodrigo knocked him out with and not the slaps he was throwing when the four deck hands came at him).
Still almost all of the crew had went out of their way in some form or another to show some appreciation to Oxley since they had made port. Being a new ‘hand’ he himself was not allowed to leave the ship but the other crew members had brought him back everything from meat pies, custard, fruit, a long knife and even a quarter bottle of rum (which he was told was full when it was first given to Bosun Rodrigo to give to him). Oxley’s favorite gift however was a embroidered black hat called a ‘skull cap’. He never liked his straggly yellow hair that looked more like straw on his head than hair anyway. Since acquiring the hat he had taken to stuffing as much of his hair underneath it as he could. Which is what he was doing standing against the port rail that overlooked the great harbor.
“I could cut that for you.” Quartermaster Lucretia said just as she was about to pass Oxley.
“Uh, that’s ok maam. I mean I would like it cut but I would not want to put you out. You got more important things to do.”
“Well I could have Rodrigo cut it for you but you seem a little squeamish when you see blood. Especially your own blood.”
“Oh, I get your point. Well if its not too much… do you think you could ask Doc Martin to cut it for me. He is real good with a razor.”
Lucretia smiled and adjusted her wide brimmed burgundy velvet hat. “You’re not as dumb as people think you are Mister Oxley.” She winked and started to walk off.
“And maam!” Oxley called out to the Quartermaster.
“Yes Mister Oxley?”
“Thanks for the hat.”
Lucretia just smiled and continued on.
‘Mister Oxley’, Oxley thought to himself. He smiled. He liked the sound of that.
Sir Ebros was glad to be clear of The Wooddam Forest. Since entering the forest with Swift over two weeks had passed and this was the first time he had seen the unobstructed sun overhead.
He stood for a long moment and took it in. Letting the warm light bathe his skin. Midas emerged from the forest while he was taking it in, followed shortly by Boris, who was still complaining.
Ever since Midas had met Sir Ebros and agreed to follow him to Kings Castle, Boris had objected claiming that Mayor Brufson had only charged him with going as far as Morsh Monastery - not the castle.
After inviting him to leave and head back to Milestill alone through the forest and possibly the Swallowing Swamps, Midas had moreover made it clear that the reason Brufson had asked him to accompany the healer to Morsh Monastery at all was to ascertain the status of the king. Whether he yet lived or was indeed dead. And based on what Sir Ebros had told them the only way to ascertain that was to go to the castle.
“Sure, you are correct that the Mayor wanted me to get to the bottom of this ‘the king is dead’ stuff but he also said we was to get to the bottom of it at the monastery, not the blasted Kings Castle.” Boris was out of breath as he emerged from the forest behind Midas.
“True Boris, but again I say to you, if Father Wilmont is at Kings Castle and that is who I was going to Morsh Monastery to see, then how do you believe we will get to the bottom of it, as you put it, by traveling to an empty monastery?”
“Well if what you told me the knight said was true, he never said Father Wilmont was at Kings Castle. He simply said he was sent from the castle to spread word of the king’s death. Something Brufson was already aware of no doubt from the self same knight and his lord’s visit to Milestill. So tell me now, how us meeting up with them again, in that there forest, changes anything!”
“Look Boris, it changes things because it changes what I know! I was not privy to the news Brufson received, nor did I see the knights who delivered it. On top of that there is news of this assassin ‘The Ferret’. That is another indication of the truth of the rumor and enough to convince me that I should be heading to Kings Castle because that is where Father Wilmont will be. But, as I suggested before, if you are of your own mind on the matter then you are free to return to Milestil or continue to the monastery as you see fit!”
Sir Ebros had overheard enough of the conversation to conclude that it was time to intervene. He was growing as tired of Boris’ complaining and doubts as the healer was but after the attack of the Gargoyle he would prefer to have the ex-constable’s sword with them for the remainder of the journey.
“Gentlemen. I fear your quarreling is in vain. From our present location we have but to cross the three forks of the river up ahead and we will be at the castle irrespective of our aims. That being the case it is not only more prudent but more necessary for our provision to continue there.”
Boris and Midas both became silent. Midas was unaware that they were so close to the castle, not being particularly skilled at navigating the land, and Boris had forgotten about the amount of food and other supplies he and Midas had used up moving through the swamps and the forest.
Absent any further protest from the pair, Sir Ebros continued.
“It is agreed then. To the castle gentlemen.”
“I am Cassiel.”
The Lady awoke bathed in light. Her pavilion was gone and all about her was light. The world outside appeared to be made of light. The trees were light, the forest floor was light, the leaves and grass were all white light. A whiter white than she had ever witnessed, even in her dream states.
In the midst of that light a man stood before her. Clothed in golden armor and white garments, his feet shod in what appeared to be leather calceus or reinforced sandals. His physique was powerful and perfect and his appearance was young but wise. Hair short and perfectly trimmed.
And his presence was light. All about him he was bathed in light that now bathed The Lady as well. This alone confirmed to her that he was of The Host.
“You are of The Host?” She said standing before him.
“I have been sent to restore what was lost.”
“My dowlite?” The Lady inquired confused. Her heart beat rapidly. Could he really give her back what she had spent a lifetime acquiring only to have it stripped from her in an instant by the Wizard.
“Even that. But know Lady, the next time you enter the dream realm will be your last. Never again will you leave it. So go there with caution and only in the hour of greatest need. Now receive what was lost!”
Cassiel stretched out his hand and The Lady was thrown back by a terrible blast of light. Light and power! And she was out.
When she opened her eyes again she was back in her pavilion, back in her bed and all was as it had been. The Messenger was gone and so was the light.
But her ability was back. Restored. She looked within herself and it was there. But his warning had been noted and she dared not test it. The dowlite had been restored to her but for some greater purpose than her celestial curiosity and though she did not know what that purpose was, she knew that when she used it again it would be her death.
Goliath reached the fork of the three rivers at dusk two days after he had set out. He made camp at an elevation just above the base of the mountains wh
ere he could see travelers approaching from either course of the river.
He had a camp fire started and a dead goat beside him that he was about to skewer on his spear and roast when he heard a noise of movement.
However this moment was close and was coming closer. Then he heard another movement, and then one more. Three people were approaching and they were armed because he could hear their weapons rattling against their armor or shields.
Goliath stood and scanned left and right. Finally, a woman came into view. Clothed in men’s clothing, wearing leather armor and carrying a staff.
Goliath smiled and chuckled at the woman but she stood firm and just stared. Just then another female came into his view on his right. She was taller than the first but also dressed in men’s clothes, leather armor and carrying a short bow. She also stood with an arrow notched and just sighted in on the giant.
Goliath’s smile vanished and a snarl came across his face. He clenched the staff of his spear so hard the wood made a cracking sound. Then one more female appeared on his left. She was heavy set with a build like a man but without muscle. She also wore men’s clothes but with partial plate armor covering her chest, arms and legs. She was armed with a shortsword and also stared at the giant.
Goliath spoke in a bellow “Three women armed and wearing men’s clothes?! Traveling together?!” He yelled. “The Ladies Three!” He said it with contempt.
“I’ve heard of you winches!!! And I don’t like what I’ve heard! I am Goliath and I have no quarrel with you so be gone and leave me to my supper!!” He yelled at them in a rage hoping the anger and fury in his voice alone would scare them.
Neither woman moved. But the first, petite one, carrying the staff spoke.
“We have not heard of you giant!” She said spitting out the word ‘giant’ like it was an expletive.
Then the second lady, with her bow notched, spoke. She was the prettiest of the three with berry colored lips.
“But we have killed two giants already. And one was bigger than you!”
Goliath’s blood started to rise. He was used to being feared. He was used to being begged for mercy or even a quick death. He was not used to being subjected to such insolence and he was certainly not used to being ‘hunted’. If not for their reputation he would have struck already with a great swing of his spear he was sure he could have killed one where she stood. He might even be able to get two of them in one swing but one at least would get a strike in and he had heard their weapons were magical or rune-bound. Though most men who heard it simply chalked that up to other men being embarrassed to admit that them or their comrades had been bested by three women. Magic weapons or not he made up his mind to strike. He would prefer to strike down the archer first but she had stayed well outside of the arc of his giant spear. And the stocky female on his left was in plate armor. Even with his strength she would no doubt survive the blow. That left the small lady in front of him. Yet she was the smallest of the three and would be the hardest target to land a blow on.
Just then the third woman spoke. The armored lady.
“I am Willowa, the lady archer is Casandra and the little princess in front of you is Tess. And yes, we are The Ladies Three. And actually we have killed three giants and two of them were bigger than you. But we haven’t disturbed you to kill you giant. If we wanted you dead we would have attacked already when you were seated and assembling your sticks for the fire.”
“Then you mean to rob me? Rob me, Goliath?”
The three ladies looked at each other and laughed. Tess spoke next.
“No. We mean to bathe you! Yes we mean to rob you giant. Now either toss your purse off into that clearing on your right or the lady archer over there is going to put one of her magic arrows through your big head.”
Goliath thought about it. Any other occasion and he would have slung his spear so hard into the little princess in front of him it would have pinned her to the face of the cliff she had sprung from. But he was on a mission. A mission for Kane. And even if he killed all three of them, if he was seriously wounded he would be no match for a knight of the land. And if the knight did not kill him, then Kane would for taking his gold and failing his mission. Goliath tossed the purse of coins aside.
“And toss the goat too while you are being so generous!” The armored lady said.
‘The fat one would want the goat’ Goliath thought, but he picked it up and tossed it off to his right as well.
By time he looked back in front of him the little princess, Tess, was gone. He then looked to his left and the armored lady was gone and finally off to his right where he had tossed everything and the lady archer was gone.
The only indication of them having ever been there being a pink fletched arrow jutting out of the ground between his legs. He had never even heard her release the shaft.
Goliath tossed his spear to the ground. Sat down and pulled the arrow out of the ground. He broke it in two and started picking his teeth with the pointy end.
‘Good thing’, he thought. That he had started eating some of the goat raw while he was preparing to put it on the fire.
Captain Tartoga was frustrated. The men were on edge and more and more of them were eying him disapprovingly. They had made it half way to the Arachald Isles before he realized he had lost the weather compass. The storms in that part of the Southern Waterways were notorious and without the compass they cut their chances of making it to the isles and back with the ship intact by about one hundred percent. So they had to turn back and the men were upset about it. But they weren’t upset about turning back. The quartermaster made that clear when he gave Tartoga the vote count. To a man each of them would rather sail with the compass than take their chances without it. It had saved their lives more times than they could count. It was their edge. Throughout the oceans of Overland the luck of The Crimson Oar was renowned. More than once they had bore down on a battered and sinking ship following a dreadful storm that should have claimed everything on the sea, only to claim their prize. What they were upset about was the fact that the Captain had lost the compass in the first place. What if it wasn’t in the brothel where he believed he had set it down? What if there had been no word of any whore trying to sell such a compass? They were pirates not explorers and they could not simply sit in Zafton and wait for word of a ‘magic compass’. And, of course, it was not like he could just buy a new one.
What made Tartoga more upset was that he knew the crew was right to be upset with him. He visited the Puss Le Cat every time he made port in Zafton and the madam there personally took custody of his effects while he was serviced. But this time he had went to the Bouncing Bess. Bess made her own appointments and saw her guests right in her room. He had thought nothing of it at the time. It was cheaper since he did not have to pay a surcharge for the services of a madam like he did at Puss Le Cat. He had simply removed his items and tossed them on the floor while he enjoyed Bess. When he awoke the next morning and dressed he failed to double check that he was leaving with everything he had entered with. Now it was obvious he clearly had not left with everything he had entered with and he meant to get the compass back. He meant to get it back and make a gift of the whore who stole it - Bess - to his crew; in order to regain their favor.
“Captain, land ahead. The port of Zafton sir.”
“Very good Karf. Tell the men to arm themselves and stand ready. No one is to leave the ship. I will seek out the whore myself. But if I get word another captain has my compass, then we will visit our wrath upon him and his crew. I don’t mean to pay for what I already own.”
Swift had made good time making it back to the forest. He had rode his war horse, Passion, hard and without much rest but she had not failed him. Upon reaching the woods he dismounted and led her in on foot.
A trained Ranger himself Swift quickly began surveying the forest floor for signs of traffic. Not to find Granger; because he knew if Granger had received his message then Granger would find him if he stayed still long enough
. Instead he was looking for signs of any other Nemesis Knights from Fire Castle.
If he could not find Granger, or worse yet, Granger refused to help; tracking the Nemesis Knights would be his best chance of locating or ascertaining the whereabouts of The Ferret. If practical he could even capture one of them and force what information he needed out of him before it was too late.
Swift had just made up his mind to travel another half mile into the forest and then rest for the night when a black shafted arrow with yellow fletching landed squarely in front of his path.
“Granger, it is I, show yourself Ranger!” Swift projected his voice loud enough to be heard in the nearby trees without yelling.
“Sorry Swift, I heard you before I saw you.” Granger appeared seemingly out of nowhere beside Swift.
“It is good to see you again Granger. I take it you received my summons.”
“Indeed from a hunter who called himself Wooten. He said to tell you that you are in his debt.”
“Truly, I will remember this Wooten. But for now I would be in your debt as the assistance I seek is vital to the king and to the land itself.”
Maddox came striding up just as Swift finished his sentence.
“Hello Swift.” Maddox said to the Third Knight, sheathing his bow.
“Maddox.” Swift replied dryly.
“Sorry I’m late Granger. It took me ten minutes to work my way down from just the first branches of that tree.”
“That’s ok Maddox Swift was just about to let me know what this quest is he has need of us to perform.”
“The Ferret is loose.”
Swift paused and looked Granger directly in the eye and then Maddox. Neither man spoke for a moment. Granger bit his bottom lip and began pacing while rubbing his hands together in thought. He then spoke in a deliberately measured tone.