Lodestone Book One: The Sea of Storms

by Mark Whiteway

  She was sitting in her basket shaped perch atop the mast, when she saw it. A thin brown line between the blue-green sea and the blue and pink sky. She hollered down to the deck below. “Land–I see land.” Patris and Lyall were the only ones on deck. They both turned their faces up to her. She pointed towards the southeast. “There.”

  She hopped out of the crow’s nest and scurried down the rigging to join the other two. They were already at the gunwale, looking out at the direction she had indicated. Shann took a place beside Lyall. The brown line was a little less distinct from this vantage point, but was still visible. “What is it?” she asked.

  “The Isle of Panna,” Patris announced.

  Panna…Panna…that name rang a bell somehow–from the tale Alondo had told about Captain Arval. “That was where Arval went to tame the three giant perridons,” she recalled.

  Patris chuckled. “You’re a fan of the Arval stories, I see.”

  Lyall’s sharp glance reminded her that she shouldn’t give too much away. “Not really,” she said. “But I know someone who is.”

  Patris lifted his head, sensing a change in the wind. He strode across the deck to the pillar which rose from the afterdeck and checked the binnacle into which the directional lodestone device was set. “I take it our course is still due east?” he called.

  “Yes, if you please,” Lyall said.

  “Then I will need to adjust our heading.” Patris began busying himself with the ship’s tackle.

  Shann looked up at Lyall “Maybe we should divert there and search for a couple of perridons?”

  Lyall was still gazing at the island in the distance. “Don’t worry, Shann. We will have our own ‘birds’ when the time comes.”

  Shann was about to ask for an explanation, when Patris yelled, “Hey ‘first mate,’ how about some help over here? Jump to it.”

  Soon Shann was lost in the minutiae of guiding their tiny vessel and Lyall’s strange comment lay forgotten–lost in the vast emptiness of the Aronak Sea.

  ~

  It was late in the morning of the third day when they first spotted the Barrier. At first it was nothing more than a lowering bank of angry clouds on the distant horizon. Slowly, it grew, occupying more and more of the eastern sky, dark and forbidding. Soon the wind started to pick up, causing the canvass to flap and buffeting the sides of their tiny vessel.

  Lyall finished tying off a bowline and looked around the tiny vessel. Alondo and Boxx were at the ship’s forward rail. Alondo was transfixed by the distant storms. He had finally emerged from the stern castle that morning, seeming to have found his sea legs at last, although he still looked a little pale. The rail was a little high for Boxx, who kept jumping up like a small child to get a view of the storm front. Keris was also above deck. She was seated on a crate on the afterdeck–off by herself as usual, checking her equipment. It appeared that she and Shann had not spoken since their conversation that first night at sea. Then the woman had seemed fragile. Vulnerable. Willing to talk. Now her inner strength had returned, and the shutters had gone up once more.

  Lyall shook his head. Perhaps in the end it didn’t matter. Soon they would be parting, perhaps forever: Shann sailing back to Sakara with Patris and Alondo; Keris accompanying him and Boxx towards–what? As the Great Barrier of Storms loomed ever closer, Lyall felt an odd sense of calm. If this was to be the end–the culmination of his life–then it seemed to him that it was a good one. It was perhaps fitting that the road from Persillan should end with him finally joining those who had died in a desperate effort to end tyranny. On the other hand, if they should by some miracle make it to the other side to continue the struggle, then maybe he could finally find some justification for his having survived when so many had not. Perhaps he might even discover finally what had happened to Aune.

  He heard a voice calling his name–intruding into his private thoughts. Patris was standing before him. The man’s lean face was etched with worry and he ran a hand through his hair as it was blown about by the gathering wind. “We have to change course. Now.”

  Lyall steeled himself. Time for Patris and the others to leave. As he opened his mouth, he was cut off by a cry from behind him. “A ship.”

  Lyall turned to see Keris on the afterdeck, pointing astern. He hurried across the deck and up the ladder, with Patris just behind him.

  As they joined her, Keris pointed again urgently. There was no mistaking it. They were being pursued by a square rigged ship, perhaps three times the size of theirs. Already it was looming large on the horizon. With their attention focussed on the Great Barrier, they had failed to notice the larger vessel as it crept up on them. Lyall leaned over the stern rail, straining his eyes for a better view. His heart sank. Emblazoned on the foresail, Lyall could clearly see the three interlocking circles with the symbol of the flame riding high above them. The Three and the One.

  The Keltar had found them.

  Chapter 31

  “Can we outrun them?” Lyall projected his voice at Patris, as the swirling wind tried to snatch it away.

  Patris shouted back at him. “Can a single masted cog with a bilge keel outrun a three masted carrack in full sail? Not likely.”

  “Isn’t there anything we can do?” Lyall tried not to sound desperate.

  “Perhaps we might–”

  A distant thud. A whooshing sound. The water just off the stern exploded, drenching the three of them.

  “Lodestone cannon,” Patris yelled.

  Shann’s mouth was open. Seawater ran down her face. “What?”

  “Lodestone cannon,” Lyall said. “It uses a shaped charge, a bit similar to a grenade–Patris.”

  “Yes, yes. I’ll try and run her as close to the Barrier as possible and track the storm front. It’s risky and she’ll be like a gudrun beast to handle, but the Prophet’s ship will encounter the same problems. We’ll see if her master has the guts to brave the storms. At the very least, it may buy us some time.”

  Another dull concussion sounded from the oncoming vessel. Seawater burst over the Reach’s larboard rail.

  “They have our range,” Patris bellowed. “Quickly.”

  The three of them slid down the ladder and sprinted over the deck to where Alondo and Boxx were waiting.

  “What’s going on?” Alondo cried in alarm.

  Lyall joined Patris and Shann as they fought to bring every scrap of canvass to bear to the wind. “A Prophet’s ship is attacking us.” He saw with dismay the frightened look on his friend’s face. There was no way to lower the launch under these conditions.

  A third boom sounded from the chasing ship. Lyall ducked down instinctively. Hot metal impacted the deck in a staccato rattle. When the sound died, Lyall looked up to see that their sail was peppered with several holes.

  “Chain shot,” Patris hollered. “They’re not trying to sink us–they’re trying to cripple us.”

  Before them, the Great Barrier roiled like nest of giant vipers. As the Reach heeled over in the gale, Patris sprinted to the rudder. Their ship turned to starboard and began to run before the storm’s leading edge. Lyall and Shann trimmed the sail and fought to keep her course straight. Rain, now mixed in with the wind, lashed their faces as they worked. Lyall kept glancing aft. There was no doubt about it–in spite of their best efforts, the carrack was gaining on them, the symbol of the Prophet now clearly visible through the smoke rising from its forward mounted cannon.

  Another round of chain shot tore into the rigging. One linked pair of half balls narrowly missed Shann. If we carry on like this, we’ll be shot to pieces. The next volley reduced the canvass to tatters. The remnants of their once proud sail hung uselessly from the crosstrees. The deck was littered with splintered wood, tangled cordage and spent shot. The launch had a gaping hole in its side. Miraculously, no-one appeared to be injured. Patris was advancing toward him. Lyall made his decision. “Patris, strike what’s left of the sail.”

  “Do you want me to signal our surrende
r?”

  “Absolutely not,” Lyall replied. “We’re going through.”

  ~

  “What do you mean, ‘going through’?” Patris demanded.

  “I mean,” Lyall met his eyes levelly, “we are going to cross the Barrier.”

  Rain had plastered Patris’ shoulder length black hair to his head and was running down his olive face. His tail swished from side to side. “You can’t be serious. It would be suicide. We don’t even have a sail left to speak of.”

  “We won’t need a sail.”

  Shann was standing beside Patris. He turned to the girl. “What’s he talking about?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know,” Shann confessed.

  Keris, Alondo and Boxx had all converged to listen to the exchange taking place on the cluttered deck. Lyall fixed Shann with his intense blue eyes. “Do you remember that first morning back at the Calandra? It was you who came up with the idea of using lodestone.”

  “But Keris said–you agreed that it wouldn’t work,” Shann said.

  “The method wouldn’t work, but only because we couldn’t secure a sufficient lodestone mass to push the vessel. But the idea–the idea is sound. When Alondo told how Captain Arval supposedly used flying perridons to pull his ship through the Barrier it got me to thinking. What if we were to install lodestone into the deck and then leap off while tethered to ropes? Maybe we could pull the ship in just the same way.”

  Wind gusted through the ragged remains of the sail, flapping like a round of applause. Shann put a hand to her head. “But…that wouldn’t work either. If…if I were to push off from the ship, then the forward pressure from the lodestone in the deck would be matched by the backward pressure from the lodestone layer of my cloak. It…would be just as if I were to attach a line to the deck and pull on it–my pulling forward on the rope would be countered by my pushing backward with my feet on the deck. The ship wouldn’t move.”

  Lyall and Keris looked at each other. “She thinks like a Keltar,” Keris said.

  It was intended as a compliment, but Lyall was certain that Shann would take it badly. He moved quickly to head off any clash between the two. “You’re absolutely right, Shann. Action–reaction. But what would happen if I was to leap off and then retract the upper lodestone layer, whilst at the same time extending the bronze?

  Shann was frowning in concentration. “The lodestone in the deck would still push me away, but the bronze in my cloak would pull on it.” Shann looked up. “But would it be enough to move the ship?”

  “I did some tests in Sakara,” Keris replied. “The pull is small, but it accelerates with time. I am certain that two of us could do it.” She turned to Lyall. “Three would be even better.”

  “How about it, Shann?” Lyall asked. “Will you help us?”

  Shann nodded quickly. “I’ll get my cloak.” She ran off in the direction of the stern castle, dodging to avoid the debris that littered the deck.

  “We haven’t much time,” Keris pointed out. “The Prophet’s ship has ceased its bombardment. That means they must be getting ready to board us.” She reached into the pack she carried and pulled out her cloak, shaking it free and securing the neck clasp. Lyall followed suit.

  “What do you want the rest of us to do?” Alondo asked.

  “You take the rudder and Boxx…well, just make sure it holds onto something,” Lyall said.

  “No.” All eyes turned towards Patris. “Look, I don’t pretend to understand what you people just said, but you can’t take this ship in there. There are hurricane force winds and impenetrable seas, not to mention the fact that we don’t even know if anything can survive beyond the Barrier.”

  Lyall tested his neck control. “Look, I was going to send you back to Sakara–Shann too. But the launch is too badly damaged. And we can’t stay put–not with that thing out there.”

  Realisation dawned on Patris face. “You planned this all along, didn’t you? You planned to take this ship into the Barrier. Why? What possible reason could you have?”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t have time to explain right now. But I won’t sacrifice anyone else to the servants of the Prophet. You saw what they did to Keris.”

  “I don’t care about that.” Patris said. “I’d rather take my chances with them than face the Barrier.”

  Shann reappeared at the door to the stern castle clad in her flying cloak and hurried towards them. Keris faced Patris. “There’s no time–they will be boarding us any moment now. We have to move.”

  “Look.” Alondo was pointing up at the sky. Lyall followed the line of his finger. The hull of the carrack lowered over their ship now–a predator breathing down the neck of its helpless prey. A dark shape was hurtling across the threatening sky between the two vessels. It landed lightly on the afterdeck, the cloak settling about its shoulders. Keltar.

  The creature walked slowly to the ladder but did not descend. Lyall saw clearly the bald head. The round face. The twisted smile of triumph. It looked down at them. “My name is Saccath.”

  “I know who you are,” Keris said.

  “Then you know why I am here, ‘betrayer’. You will come with me.”

  Lyall stepped forward. “She’s not going anywhere with you.”

  Saccath looked around the shattered deck, as the wind and rain continued to lash down. “Your pathetic ship is destroyed. You have no-where to go. Come with me and I will spare these others. Refuse and they will all die.”

  “I told you,” Lyall said, “She’s not going with you.”

  Saccath laughed without mirth. “This is the one who dresses as Keltar. The one who was bested back in Corte by Garai. Do you take your orders from this gundir now? Did you know that he already led one failed insurrection eleven turns ago? Led his people into death and then fled.” He turned to face Lyall. “We have your sister in custody. Renounce this woman, and come with me and I will take you to see her.”

  Lyall’s mind reeled with the news. Aune–Aune is alive. But could a Keltar’s word be relied on? He shook his head. It did not matter. He could not–would not turn against his companions. If it were true–if she was indeed alive and in the hands of the Prophet–then he would find another way to free her.

  Somewhere near the edge of his consciousness, he heard Keris respond. “Saccath, you have been betrayed, but not by me. The Prophet intends to destroy all Kelanni.”

  “Lies,” Saccath spat. “You may have been able to convince that old fool Ferenek before he died, but you will never convince me. I am Keltar. The eyes and ears of the Prophet.” He drew his diamond bladed staff from behind him. “In the name of the Three and of the One, you will come with me. Now.”

  He jumped from the stern castle to the deck in front of them. Keris and Lyall had their own staffs drawn and were standing their ground. Alondo and Boxx were backing away towards the bow. Shann, without a staff of her own, was casting about wildly.

  Lyall called out to her. “Get back with the others.”

  He looked back to see Patris stepping forward, hands outstretched in capitulation. “I am not with these people, Keltar. They deceived me. I request the sanctuary of the Prophet and safe passage back to Sakara.”

  Saccath regarded him with a mixture of annoyance and disdain; then swung his staff. The wood connected with the side of Patris’ head and the thief collapsed to the deck in a heap. He did not move.

  The three cloaked figures began circling one another slowly, like caged animals.

  “The Thief Guild,” Saccath sneered. “They would betray their own family for a fraction of an astria. A slip of a girl who also likes to dress up as Keltar, a fellow with an odd hat and a Chandara, of all things. Why would you ally yourself with such people?”

  Saccath put one hand to his neck and blipped the control on his flying cloak. “Interesting. I detect a sizeable source of refined lodestone on this vessel. You will tell me its purpose.” Keris swung her staff at Saccath’s head. He sidestepped neatly and she grunted as her diamond
blade sliced through empty air. “Very well. We will do this the hard way.”

  Saccath turned and ran towards the forecastle; then flared his cloak, and leaped from the deck, pushing off the lodestone in the ship’s bow and hurtling towards Lyall and Keris. They scattered in opposite directions, tumbling beyond the reach of Saccath’s staff. The bald Keltar touched down once more and began advancing on Keris. “You killed Nikome and then our master, Mordal.”

  Keris managed to get her feet under her and held her staff out defensively. Her voice was cracking. “I had no choice. They attacked and wouldn’t listen. Just as you are refusing to listen. Wh–why would I be doing this if I didn’t believe it to be true?”

  Lyall scrambled towards Saccath and made a thrust with his staff. Saccath knocked it away contemptuously; then in a single fluid movement, raised his own staff over his head and brought it down on Keris’ upheld staff with great force. Keris was sent sprawling to the deck once more, as the sound of clashing darkwood reverberated around the ship.

  Saccath walked towards her slowly, swishing his tail. “Motives–who cares for motives? Small children, perhaps. Or fools like these.” He took in her companions with a wave of his hand. “You are Keltar. You betrayed your master and your oath. For that, you must pay.” He raised his staff once more.

  Lyall was readying himself to lunge once more at Saccath’s back when he registered a blur of motion above him. A fourth cloaked figure came flying feet first, impacting the small of Saccath’s back. Shann. The bald Keltar grunted, lurched forward and fell face first onto the deck. Keris rolled out of the way and sprang to her feet. Shann joined her, so that the two stood side by side. The girl was brandishing an oar as if it were an oversized staff.

  Keris flexed her hands on her staff in readiness. “Using lodestone and bronze layers to effect a downward thrust. Very good. Who taught you that?”

  “You did–at the tower–remember?” Shann replied.

  Keris smiled wryly. “You learn quickly.”

  “You saved me using that particular technique,” Shann said. “Now we are even.”