by A F Stewart
“Good man.”
Lord Merrill straightened his spine under the praise. “I only hope we find survivors.”
“Aye to that thought.” Rafe stepped away and shouted, “Report! Any sign of crew?”
A chorus of short, negative replies answered and a cry came from Mouse, “Only debris, sir! Not a sign of life or afterlife!”
Rafe sighed.
The ship sailed in as close as it dared, before throwing out the sea anchor and drifting alongside the reef. An unmistakable litter of flotsam floated on the sea, but nary a body. It seemed unnatural and eerie. Muttered prayers drifted on the wind.
“Not that I’m ungrateful, but it seems unusual to find no sailors in the sea after a wreck.” The soft voice of Lord Merrill sounded in Rafe’s ear underneath the squeals and groans of the winches manoeuvring the longboat into lowering position.
“It is. We usually find survivors or bodies about after a wreck. Perhaps we’ll get answers when we visit the shipwreck.” Rafe nodded at the longboat now ready for boarding. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be leading the exploration party.”
“Of course, Captain. A safe journey.”
Rafe nodded and touched his hat in a farewell gesture, before taking his place in the longboat with Striker Angus, Short Davy, and seven more crewmen that included his newest sailors, Red Wilson and Josiah Collins. Stern faces and silence enfolded the journey as they rowed to the shipwreck. They cut through the water as near as they dared, steering past the hole in the hull, none acknowledging the familiarity of the ship prickling their thoughts. They inspected the damage, hoping for signs of survivors clinging to the wreckage or even bodies floating within the cracked interior. They saw nothing but the broken remains of a once proud vessel.
Rafe sighed, his voice solemn. “Take us closer to the bow. I want to see if we can identify which ship this was.” He watched them nod, all eyes avoiding his expression.
Only the scrape of the oars and the slap of the waves on the boat sliced the silence of men that followed. Not a grunt nor a whisper sounded as the boat cut through the sea around the strangely abandoned vessel, navigating a better angle to view the faded nameplate upon the bow. The crew avoided staring at the stranded hulk wedged upon the sharp rocks of the reef, most heads looking to the oars or keeping clear of running aground. As they came around, Rafe picked up his spyglass and checked the side of the ship. His heart skipped two beats as he read the name.
“Damnation. It is the Coral Rose.”
Anguished murmurs and words of prayer finally broke the quiet and Rafe didn’t blame his men. The Coral Rose was the star in the Abersythe merchant fleet, with many of its sailors known to the crew of the Jewel.
“Not one sign of crew? Not living or dea—?”
“Ahoy!” A hoarse shout snapped across the air. “Save me! If you have any decency, I need help!”
All eyes looked to the direction of the desperate voice and there, clutching to the rocks, half hidden by the ship, they saw a sailor. The man raised a hand and feebly waved to catch their attention.
“Ahoy!” Rafe yelled back. “We see you! We’re coming!”
He turned to his oarsmen. “Can we get closer to the reef? Close enough to pull him into the boat?”
Striker Angus shook his head. “We can get a wee bit closer, but not near enough to haul him in from where he be positioned.”
“I can get him.” Josiah Collins stared at Rafe. “Bring the boat in near as you can, and I’ll swim out and bring him back.” At Rafe’s look of doubt, the man added, “I’ve swum the underwater reefs off Echo Bay. Rescued one or two fools in my day. I know how. Worst we’ll get is a few scrapes.”
Rafe hesitated, then nodded. “Do it, sailor.”
The boat swung in nearer the reef and Collins eased himself into the water. A short swim brought him to the stranded man. With a cry, the frantic sailor launched himself at Collins, grabbing him about the neck like a lifeline. The two went under for a moment, but Collins gave the other sailor a hard smack and fought to the surface with him in tow. The man settled in Collins’ grasp, and Rafe’s man swam, dragging the poor wretch back to the longboat. Eager hands hauled them back within the safety of the craft. They both rested at the bottom, panting, dripping water onto the weathered wood.
Rafe gave them a smile. “Good job, Collins.” His man returned the smile and slowly sat up, leaning against the boat’s side. Rafe turned to the rescued sailor. “Are there any more survivors?”
The crewman from the Coral Rose shook his head and whispered. “They’re all gone. All of them. Don’t know how I didn’t end up with them. All gone.” The sailor curled up, bringing his knees to his chest, and closed his eyes.
Rafe sighed, knowing he’d get no more from the man at present. “Sail us a course about the wreck to make certain and then return to the Jewel.”
The boat made its route, finding no others, alive or dead, nor souls in need of Rafe’s care. They reboarded the Jewel, disheartened, but with their passenger more lucid. Lord Merrill was among the first to greet them.
“You found a survivor. Excellent.” He snatched a proffered blanket from Blackthorne’s hand and wrapped it around the rescued sailor. “Poor lad. What an ordeal you must have gone through.”
Rafe tilted his head, a bit surprised at the nobleman’s concern, but took advantage. “Why don’t you take him below to my quarters, Lord Merrill, and see to his comfort? Davy, escort them down and get them some rum. I’ll join you all shortly.” Davy nodded and whisked the pair below decks before either could object.
Rafe turned to Blackthorne, giving him and the other crew left aboard the answers to their unspoken questions. “It was the Coral Rose. We found no sign of other sailors. Not alive, dead, or spirit.”
Hushed quiet settled over the ship, not a word spoken, but mourning on every face. Rafe took a breath before giving his orders. His next words snapped like thunder against twilight.
“Toss a spell orb overboard near the wreck and let the beacon spell stand as a signal warning. Ships that come this way need to know it has been tended upon. Then pull up the sea anchor and set sail back on our original course. We’ll give word of the Coral’s demise in her home port.”
There were nods, and the crew moved to obey, but without cheery banter or any jovial manner. Rafe brushed past them all and went below decks.
He entered his quarters to find Lord Merrill and the rescued sailor both nestled in chairs and sipping on rum. Davy stood quietly in a corner. Rafe nodded at his man who quietly left the room, shutting the door behind him. Rafe moved to his desk noticing that the Coral Rose sailor sported some colour in his cheeks and a steadier hand grasped the glass of rum.
As Rafe settled in his chair, Lord Merrill took initial control of the conversation. “The poor lad’s name is Simon Reeves, Captain, and he hails from Abersythe. His ship is the Coral Rose, although I suspect you know that already.” Rafe nodded and Lord Merrill continued. “He’s had a shock, of course, but is willing to answer any questions you may have for him. I thought it best you take charge of such inquiries.”
“Thank you, Lord Merrill.” Rafe smiled and pushed any annoyance at the lord’s presumption from his thoughts. He turned to Simon Reeves.
“What happened sailor? How did the Coral Rose run aground on Razor Reef? As far as I know, there’s been no errant weather and your crew and captain were good sailors. Were you attacked? Was it sea creatures? An assault by pirates?”
The sailor hesitated, chewing on his bottom lip. He downed his remaining rum and took a breath. “You may not believe me, but what I say is the honest truth. Ain’t a lie or a story.” Reeves took another breath. “It was a wave, sir. Biggest I’ve ever seen. Taller than half the ship out of the calmest sea you ever saw. Don’t know how it came. The sea just heaved. Swamped the ship. Men went overboard, but...” His voice quavered, hesitating to continue.
“But what, sailor?”
“It’s like it knew, like a hand guided it
. Almost as if the wave came and took ‘em. The water sloshed across the deck, aiming like, and took ‘em.”
“That can’t be,” The great booming voice of Lord Merrill interjected. “Such a large ship? I never thought...” He stopped talking abruptly and Rafe gave the lord a sideways glance.
Reeves stared into his empty glass. “Told you. Knew you wouldn’t believe it.”
Rafe cast the sailor some sympathy and turned to Lord Merrill with a look, a mix of scorn and amusement. “We shouldn’t talk out of turn, milord. Let him finish. The Outer Islands is full of strange things.”
Lord Merrill frowned, but said nothing in reply to the rebuke, simply deferred to Rafe. “Yes, of course. I shouldn’t have been so quick to judge.” Rafe noticed he gripped the arm of his chair and leaned forward. “Continue your story, Mr. Reeves. My apologies for the interruption.”
The shaken sailor stared at the nobleman. “Thank you, sir. I don’t blame you for not believing. I’d have said so too, before today. But it ain’t a story. I’m telling ya, it ain’t. Something’s out there. Something bad.” He turned his gaze back to Rafe, his body trembling. “The ship just went into the reef after that. I was flung out and swept onto the rocks where you found me.”
“It’s all right, son.” Rafe spoke softly, trying to soothe.
“No, it ain’t. Won’t ever be all right. Cause it weren’t over. More men than me survived the wreck. Survived the wave and being taken by the sea. But—but...” His voice choked and he took a minute to compose himself. “I saw something else, sir. The rest were drowned, sir. Dragged into the depths. Monsters, it was. They came out of the water after the wreck, rising like sea foam. But it wasn’t foam. It was bones. The dead coming back from the depths, reaching for the crew. Some didn’t even look right, not like men. An awful sight, sir. Awful.” Reeves shuddered. “Don’t know why they didn’t take me.” He shook his head. “Don’t know why.”
Lord Merrill reached out and patted the sailor’s knee. “You’ve been through an ordeal, lad. But be glad you survived and you’re here to tell the tale.”
“I am, milord. I am. Though I wager few will trust in my story. I can scarce consider it true myself.”
“I believe you, Mr. Reeves.” Rafe interjected, commanding the attention of the other two. “I’ve seen things equally as strange, even though your monsters are new to me. You can be assured I’ll look into whatever this new threat may be. I’ll see you home safely to Abersythe and you can leave the matter in my hands.”
“In our hands, Captain.” Lord Merrill met Rafe’s surprise with a smile. “I’ll not be left out of this mystery.”
“Sir, I don’t think—”
Lord Merrill cut him off with a wave of his hand. “I won’t be dissuaded. I meant no offence with my earlier words; I was simply surprised. This is a perplexing mystery. I’ll be a part of resolving the matter and that’s the end of it. Now, grab yourself a glass and we will all have some of your delightful rum.”
Rafe wanted to argue, confused by Lord Merrill’s odd change of manner, but a glance at the grateful face of Simon Reeves stopped him. Instead, he found a glass and shared a drink with the other men.
Chapter Two
Lords and Darkness
RAFE STOOD ALONE WITH his thoughts as the ship came in to dock at Abersythe harbour, savouring the view as the early morning sun shone over the town. Reeves’ strange story unnerved him, its tragedy shifting in his head, yet in this moment horror and death seemed so distant.
Would it be so wrong to wish it all away?
The thought slipped into his head and a sigh slipped past his lips. What he wouldn’t give to ignore the implications of the Coral Rose, but he could not.
No, the God of Souls must do his duty.
And there was duty here. In the wee hours of the night he had searched, reached out his senses to the After World. He found crew there from the Coral Rose, but not everyone. That meant some had not crossed. Yet, they found no ghosts, no lost spirits in the water. Some crew simply vanished. Rafe leaned against the rail, letting out a breath.
So troubling. Even the eaten leave traces.
And it was bad enough crew members of the Coral Rose were missing. But even more disturbing, he felt faint hints of pain emanating from the After World and a few dark spots he couldn’t explore, like black stains hiding his souls. It unbalanced his very sense of being.
How is that even possible?
“Sorry to interrupt, captain.” Lord Merrill’s voice drifted into Rafe’s uneasy musings. “But business needs to be attended regarding my cargo.”
Rafe turned, shifting aside his worries for the moment. “Yes, Lord Merrill?”
“I’ll be disembarking this morning and returning home. I’d prefer to leave my cargo on board until tomorrow if that’s convenient, and I’ll send my men along to help with the unloading. There are other things to attend to today, as you know.”
“That’s fine. It has been a troubling trip.”
“It has indeed. More than we bargained for.” Lord Merrill hesitated, almost as if he wished to say something else, but only added, “What time shall I send my men?”
“Generally the crew rouses fully by six bells, so between then and eight bells would be best.”
“Excellent. I’ll send word before they arrive.”
Rafe nodded and waited for the man to depart, but Lord Merrill seemed disinclined to leave. Rafe asked, “Was there something else?”
“Yes. The other matters I spoke of, namely Mr. Reeves and the Coral Rose.”
Rafe stifled his irritation. Despite his attempts at dissuasion, Lord Merrill continued to insist on taking an interest in the matter. “What about them?”
“I know you plan on taking Mr. Reeves with you when you report to the harbourmaster and relay the sad news of the Rose’s demise. I shall accompany you. Then I will take Reeves in hand and get him settled back in his home.”
Surprised, Rafe stared at the resolute expression on Lord Merrill’s face. Then he sighed. “Very well. We depart as soon as the ship is finished docking.”
“I shall be ready.”
Rafe then watched a satisfied Lord Merrill walk away, before returning his gaze to Abersythe. All feelings of tranquillity had vanished. Around him came the shouts of the crew and the clank of the winches as the heaving lines played out and the mooring crews brought the Jewel into port. As the vessel settled in its berth with a familiar bobbing motion and shipboard creaks, Rafe left the quarterdeck to disembark. Lord Merrill and Mr. Reeves awaited him at the top of the gangplank.
“Shall we, Captain?”
Rafe nodded and led the way to the harbourmaster’s office.
The docks were bustling with sailors, harbour crew and townsfolk, people starting their workday and others getting their morning meal at the inns and taverns. Men and women wandered past. Laughter drifted out of the dockside pubs, and voices carried from the ships. The carefree, familiar atmosphere eased Rafe’s mood, and he felt more in command as he and his two companions entered the harbourmaster’s office.
The man looked up from his desk as they crossed the threshold, a smile blossoming on his face. “Captain Morrow. Good to see you, sir. And Lord Merrill. An honour.” He rose to welcome them as they approached, extending his hand and craning his neck slightly to look them in the eye. Both Rafe and Lord Merrill shook the harbourmaster’s hand, while Simon Reeves simply nodded a greeting. Then all the men took their seats to discuss business.
“I assume you’re here to check in and register the unloading of cargo. Will you be offloading this morning or afternoon?”
“Tomorrow morning, Mr. Cooke, but if you pardon, I’d like to defer business for a moment to report sad news.” Rafe turned slightly and waved a hand at Reeves. “This gentleman is lately off the Coral Rose. I’m sorry to report she’s gone aground on Razor Reef, with the loss of all hands save this sailor, Mr. Simon Reeves.”
Cooke turned a deathly pale and inhaled sharply. “No!
Not the Rose! Are you sure?”
“Yes, sir. I saw the ship’s name myself when inspecting the wreck.”
“And there’s no chance of others surviving? Perhaps a longboat? Or floating wreckage.” The vain hope the harbourmaster tossed out died when Rafe shook his head. “I see. Did you find any other remnants, Captain? What of uncrossed souls? Were any left behind?”
“No, sir. Not a trace. You see...” Rafe hesitated for a heartbeat and then continued. “The way she went down was a bit beyond the usual manner of things. We didn’t witness it, having come across the wrecked ship on our travels. We heard of what happened when we fished poor Mr. Reeves from the sea. He has a story to tell, and you’ll want some time to take it in.”
“Very well. Tell your tale, Mr. Reeves.” Cooke leaned back in his chair, waiting, worry creasing his face.
Both Rafe and Lord Merrill nodded at the sailor, who took a deep breath and told his strange story once more. At the end, Cooke exclaimed, “How horrifying! Are the seas erupting with fresh monsters after only getting rid of the old?” He turned to Rafe. “Have you ever heard of such a thing?”
“No, but I will look into the matter. It may be a creature, or it may be someone doing magic. Either way, it needs to be stopped. As you said, the idea of new terrors in the sea is troubling.”
“Most troubling. And the Coral Rose their first victim. It is deeply disturbing. And it won’t sit well with sailors or the islands. Not so soon after the last adversity. I hope this won’t cause you more difficulties, Captain.”
“I’ll make certain it does not. Captain Morrow is the man to get to the bottom of this calamity.” Lord Merrill spoke up, surprising both Rafe and the harbourmaster.
“You’ve taken an interest, milord?” Cooke inquired, one eye still cast at Rafe.
“Indeed. I’ll see to it the mystery is solved and Captain Morrow has all the resources he needs to ferret out the truth.”