The Labyris Knight

by Adam Derbyshire

  He took a moment to take in the deck and the crew standing silently at the rails, still as statues, hands resting nervously on sword hilts, as the galleon beneath them rode out the swell generated from the closing gate and started to drift as the current nudged the vessel gently along its course. Thomas had to admire the dedication of these people. They clearly trusted him to make the right decisions and keep them safe. He only wished he felt as confident. The undeniable menace that was Malum Okubi would not take these trespasses through the ship’s graveyard easily and Thomas knew the last time he had lingered here he had hurt the monster badly. It was only a matter of time before Malum found a way to fight back. He shook his head, trying to dispel the icy fingers of fear tracing up his spine and gazed up through the rigging and masts to the ship’s lookout high above.

  Perched high in the crow’s nest, Weyn Valdeze scanned the mish-mash of decaying wreckage to his left, constantly looking for signs of life that indicated the enemy was aware of their presence. His gaze roved across huge derelict sea vessels, sloops, trawlers, packet boats, coasters, liberty ships and other transports he had no means to identify, scanning for the tell-tale movement of the large black Scintarn hounds that hunted for survivors from these wrecks then herded them back to be eaten alive by their master.

  The archer turned one way then the other, then noticed something out of the corner of his eye and turned to gaze ahead in the direction the current was leading them. Something was different in the graveyard this time, you could feel it in the air. His eyes squinted into the murk, making out dark shapes dotted across the watery passage before them. There were objects in the water. Weyn frowned cursing the fact that he could not see any clearer. Was that the remains of a small sailing ship? What were the other shapes? He reached over and tugged hard on a rigging line set up specifically to register an alarm and send a silent signal down to the helm, warning of the trouble he had spotted.

  Thomas looked up to see Weyn gesturing wildly ahead and turned to see where the archer was pointing but there was nothing to see from this low point to the sea. He ran over to the rigging climbed a few lines and reached into his waistcoat to draw out his spyglass extending the telescope and putting it to his right eye. The water ahead leapt into focus, first one dark shape came clear, then others initially shrouded by the murk became visible. The hairs on the back of the captain’s neck prickled and his gut started to churn. What on earth? Were those wrecks out in the main channel? Had they somehow come free from the rest of the ruined hulks? Were they drifting like the El Defensor was?

  He stared again, taking in first one shadowy seaweed draped ship then another, their shapes staggered out across the water. Dark vessels, ancient hulls, rusted prows and lance like masts sitting directly in the way of his galleon and it appeared that the El Defensor was closing on them. How could these vessels be staying in place? Even with no wind the El Defensor continued to drift forwards. Why were these vessels not doing the same? He stared harder, peering through the telescope and willing more detail to be apparent. Then Thomas noticed the lines pulled taut against the current, the loops of salvaged rusting anchor chain stringing the staggered wrecks together directly across their path. This was not a simple case of drifting vessels. This had been done intentionally.

  They were sailing into a trap! Thomas dropped back down to the deck and ran across to Colette, bending close to her ear.

  “Open a gate.” He ordered. “Open a gate now!”

  “Which one?” Colette whispered back, indicating the row of arches sliding silently past them.

  “I don’t care which one.” Thomas snapped more sternly than he intended, his raised whisper sounding much louder than it actually was. “Just do it now.”

  Colette moved over to the rail and sank to her knees, spreading out a roll of cloth upon which several gemstones sparkled. There was a sapphire, a ruby, two orange agates and a diamond but none of them were big enough to power the opening of a gate on its own. She closed her eyes, visualising the arch, mouthing the words and forcing the ruby and one agate to snap as if they were made of glass, allowing the magical energy contained within them to spiral out. The twin tendrils wrapped around each other crackling, fizzing and even jumping apart from each other, before Colette gestured with her hands and sent them racing towards one of the distant gateways.

  The supernatural power leapt across the water and clawed up the stone pillars, crackling and sparking across the opening. The dark swirling fog behind the archway disappeared as blue and orange power jumped from stone to stone, energising the ancient monument which flared brightly, as a mystical gateway split down the centre of the arch and parted in a bright flash of light. Water rushed into the ship’s graveyard from a wide lazy river beyond the open gate, staining the waters ahead with a muddy hue, the weathered stone arch acting like a rustic picture frame, capturing a scene of vibrant grassland across which herds of startled grey and brown striped gazelles leapt and twisted like a living ribbon. A sun the colour of molasses slung low in the sky behind the fleeing creatures, giving the whole image a surreal appearance.

  Thomas turned to Rauph and motioned towards the opening. His mouth shaping words he wanted to scream but knew he could not for fear of alerting his enemy of their position.

  “Go! There! Now!” He gestured. The huge Minotaur acknowledged the request and adjusted the helm, muscles bulging as he set the El Defensor into a sweeping turn to bring it in line with their offered destination, the galleon banking under their feet in response. Thomas tried to relax the tightness in his shoulders as the ship headed for the archway and the promised sanctuary beyond. At least they would be away from this place quicker than he expected.

  “Something is wrong!” Colette cursed making the crew gathered around her jump at the sound. “I can’t hold it open.” She closed her eyes, her brow furrowed as if in pain, hands held out gesturing towards the gateway, as she visibly strained to hold the passageway for them. The two magical energy streams sparked and jumped, the vista within moving out of focus then becoming clear again.

  Thomas leaned forward, willing the El Defensor to pick up speed with all his heart and soul but it was not to be with no wind at their back and no oars with which to row. There was a crackling sound and then the archway went dark, their lush green destination disappearing, replaced with a swirling wall of dark grey fog.

  “Turn to Port!” Thomas yelled at Rauph, only to discover his navigator was already ahead of him and wrestling with the helm, bringing the king spoke up from the deck and over to the other side as he spun the massive wheel. The whole galleon shuddered at the course direction, the crew stepping to one side and holding tightly onto whatever they could as the ship groaned in protest at the rough treatment.

  The El Defensor peeled away from the archway in as tight a turn as she could but her forward momentum left the back end of the ship swinging dangerously out towards the ancient stone masonry. Aradol, Austen and Ives immediately snatched up boat hooks and ran to the starboard side of the stern, preparing to attempt the impossible and push off, if the boat collided with the arch. They held their breath as their vessel swung torturously around, putting her aft-castle in a direct line with the ancient masonry. The ship moved closer and closer, the faces of the crew wincing at the prospective collision everyone expected to hear. The galleon swung closer, the ship’s hull inches from the crumbling masonry. Aradol closed his eyes expecting to feel the shudder and groan as the mighty ship collided, then got elbowed in the side by a grinning Ives as the stern missed the leading edge of the arch and swung into the now empty opening, the woodwork spared destruction by the slimmest of margins.

  Austen turned towards Thomas to gesture that, incredibly, all was well, however the danger was not over. Crew members were gesturing wildly towards the prow of the ship, pointing out that the El Defensor was now heading directly for one of the anchored ships positioned in the water. Mathius led several other crew, armed with boathooks over to the port side of th
e ship, leaping up into the rigging to hang out over the side and view the ominous threat approaching. A large rotting trawler, draped with holed nets that hung heavy with slime, listed steeply in the churning waters, its prow pointed to starboard, stern to port, the exposed hull of the ship intentionally placed to block as much of the sluggish channel as possible.

  Mathius turned towards Thomas and Rauph, gesturing that a turn to Starboard was required. The shaggy red-haired Minotaur acted without hesitation, turning the helm sharply, the whole ship shaking at the movement, the crew staggering to remain on their feet. The El Defensor swung out wide, only for her prow to rise up out of the water as a huge chain securing the trawler to the archways slid beneath her.

  “That will clean off some barnacles!” Mathius muttered as the chain reverberated and scraped along the hull, putting his teeth on edge. So much for the quiet and quick exit Thomas had suggested!

  As the chain found itself forced under the El Defensor’s hull, it tightened, causing the ruined trawler to be suddenly dragged towards them, its rotting stern surging through the water.

  “Over the side.” Thomas ordered, “We need to stop that ship from making contact.” Crewmen scrambled to act, setting their safety lines so they could climb down the rungs set into the hull and hang from the rigging, their cumbersome boat hooks small protection from the vessel swiftly approaching them. Every man wore a grim face set against a task that if mis-judged, would see them squashed between the El Defensor's hull and the approaching trawler.

  "Brace!” Mathius warned, as the fishing vessel loomed ever closer. "We just need to ease the trawler along." The boathooks squealed in protest as they met the hull of the approaching ship, the crewmen setting the ends of their staves against the hull and angling them to try and deflect the trawler as if they were coming up alongside a jetty. One boathook snapped sending its owner scrabbling for higher ground as the trawler kissed the El Defensor's hull before bouncing back, leaving a slick green trail to mark the ship's unsolicited attentions. Other crewmen leapt to help, attaching safety lines and clambering down to help complete a line of volunteers eager to see their ship free of danger.

  The rusted chain continued to rattle along the keel of the Spanish galleon, each crunch making Thomas wince anew. He risked a few stolen furtive glances over to the port side of the ship half expecting to see the appearance of the dark heads and flicking pointed ears of Scintarn hounds noting their passage but there was nothing to see. He made his way over to Colette and laid a steadying hand on her shoulder.

  "Relax," he tried to reassure her, taking in the flustered look on her face and knowing that the words dancing unspoken on her lips probably involved something along the line of I told you so. "I know you can do this. Just gather your thoughts and try again."

  Colette blew out a puff of air, her bottom lip extended to make her frustrated exhale lift a stray blonde lock of hair that had become stuck to her brow. Thomas stifled a laugh as the offending curl bounced back down into its original position, although Colette was in no position to notice. There was a sharp crack, followed by several others, and the remaining gemstones, suddenly rendered impossibly fragile by Colette' s summoning of the magical forces held within, released their powers for the ship's mage to weave and manipulate as she desired.

  She tried to ignore the noises around her, the rumble of the chain along the keel of the ship, the scramble of men grunting, swearing and struggling to nurse the fishing trawler along the hull and the palpable tension from the rest of the crew as they ran this terrifying gauntlet on their path to freedom, every one of them aware of what would happen should they fail.

  The mage turned her attention back towards the prow of the El Defensor gazing along the row of available archways stretching out before them. What one should she choose, the fifth, the seventh or even the twentieth? What did it matter if they were far away from here? The mage took in the stonework, looking for some clue or sign to help her decide but each archway appeared identical to the one either side of it. No suggestions to indicate a safe port, no warning of what dangers may lie beyond. She gritted her teeth and prepared to cast her spell.

  The El Defensor ground to a sudden stop, sending members of the crew tumbling across the deck and jolting Colette, breaking her concentration. What in the world was going on now? The mage impatiently gathered her magical power back, reeling in the crackling tendrils like a ball of errant twine and gathering them into her hand, unwilling to waste a single jot of power as they had precious little to spare.

  Thomas was already racing across the deck, leaping up to stare over the Starboard side of his vessel and spot a sight that chilled him to the bone. The chain had almost completed its journey along the hull but had wound up entangled in the rudder. As he looked the chain twisted and turned, halting their progress as surely as if they were sailing through sand. He turned to the crew rushing up alongside him and pointed down at the obstacle pulled taut against the forward motion of the current.

  "We need to break the chain!" He yelled, forgetting the silence he had ordered amongst the crew. The men gathered about him clearly agreed with his opinion but looked about amongst themselves, lost as to what exactly they would break the chain with. Thomas took in the stares about him and the looks of impotence, frustration and fear that mirrored his own feelings deep inside.

  They were stuck fast! On one side the rusting anchor chain threatened to snap their rudder and leave them directionless and floundering in the water, on the other, the rotting trawler threatened to damage their hull. Thomas glanced towards Colette and watched her gathering the last remaining residue of magical power to her hand. The captain knew the energy would not last forever in its raw state and the longer they waited the less energy would be available to open the gateway for passage onwards. His mind raced to deal with the turmoil and sort out the indecision freezing him to the spot. At least the Scintarn hounds still seemed unaware of their presence. He had to be thankful for that!

  "Awwwwaaarrrk ack ack!" The ear-splitting squawk cut through the air like fingernails being dragged down a blackboard. What in the seven hells? A long drawn out haunting howl rose in reply from the wrecked ships on the starboard side of the El Defensor, off towards the centre of the graveyard. The haunting dirge settled into silence, every member of the crew feeling the terror the unearthly sound instilled.

  "Ack ack parp!" Another high-pitched squawk filled the air. Thomas turned towards the prow of the ship and gestured sharply to one of the crew to find and silence the source of the sudden outburst, despite a feeling growing inside that he already knew who was responsible. He lifted his spyglass to his eye and confirmed his feelings as he took in the sight of a diminutive figure talking to a caged bird with his usual high-speed enthusiasm and animated arm gestures.

  "They are called Scintarn hounds!" Came a loud voice. "Don’t their howls make you feel all spooky inside? No, I don't know why we have stopped moving. Rauph is steering the ship not me! I don't understand why you never listen to me!" The answering ear splitting cry from the Halfling's pet bird made Thomas roll his eyes to the heavens. Another loud mournful howl echoed from the wreckage; this time answered by several other hounds responding to the summons. Thomas gritted his teeth in anger.

  When they got out of this a certain Ashe Wolfsdale was going to be in serious trouble.

  Chapter Four

  The bass tones of a sad lullaby were the first things Kerian became aware of as he struggled to regain consciousness. The second was the incredibly bad smells lingering about him and the hard surface on which he lay. He remained still, trying to gather his thoughts from a head that felt stuffed with cotton. Where had he ended up now? He remembered being in the alleyway trying to help the man who had been assaulted and then he recalled being hit on the head. The second he relived the incident, the pain flooded in and his fingers tentatively explored a raised egg-sized lump on the back of his neck confirming his memories.

  Kerian groaned aloud bef
ore wincing, as the simple act of vocalising sent waves of discomfort through his skull. He licked his lips, feeling the dry cracked surface against the fuzzy carpet coating his tongue and tried to figure out how long he had been unconscious. The lullaby faded away and someone moved closer to him.

  "At last my hero awakens." Came a voice tinged with sarcasm. "Maybe now you are conscious we can discuss the ramifications of interfering where you are not wanted eh?" Kerian cracked an eyelid and gazed up into the dark brown eyes and olive complexion of the man he had attempted to save.

  "I notice you are still alive dice man." Kerian replied, swinging his feet from the bunk he was lying on, before holding his head in his hands as the world spun around him and threatened to make him vomit. "It appears my interference saved your life."

  "That remains to be seen compadre." Came the sobering reply. "We appear to have moved from a place of commerce to a place with less than ideal future options." A loud rattling of metal being struck caused Kerian to open his eyes further and fully take in their present surroundings. Soiled straw strewn on a stone floor, dim light from outside the room. Stark iron bars on the small window set higher than needed to prevent anyone looking out. A slop bucket in the corner with stained flagstones adjacent. Clearly, previous residents had felt the bucket was a mere suggestion rather than a strict rule. The whole area measured ten feet by ten feet and if Kerian needed any further proof of his current predicament, the floor to ceiling bars across one end of the room answered his question.