“Adjustment…” The Prince Regent confirmed. “You just need to show them who is in charge. Set an example from time to time. Now you are home again Kristoph you shall need to address your bad habits.”
“Please stop calling me Kristoph.” Rauph mumbled. “My name is Rauph. I do not remember ever being called by any other name.” Drummon threw his head back and laughed.
“Whoever hit you on the head must have done so really hard.” The Prince Regent smiled, knowing that in fact, he was the one, who had delivered the near fatal blow. “Now let’s talk about getting involved in this hunt.”
The rest of the El Defensor’s crew ran over to aid their fallen comrade and lifted him gently from the floor.
“What just happened?” Aradol asked.
“That black thug hit me.” Weyn replied. He stared over in the direction of the departing Minotaur as they nodded and talked to each other. “I swear I’m going to kill him.”
“I think there may be a line forming… Once we get Thomas back to fighting fit.” Ives replied, brushing some crushed leaves from Weyn’s knee.
“Just give me the word and the Lady Janet will give him a steel tipped enema that will have him shitting through a straw for the rest of his days.” Commagin growled. “Just one word.” Weyn shook his head, the Dwarven engineer’s threat not even drawing a smile.
“I still can’t believe it. Rauph just let him hit me. He never stood up for me. In fact, he threatened to have me flogged. After all we have been through together.”
“Really?” Aradol asked, looking over at Rauph and then back to Weyn in disbelief. “That doesn’t sound like Rauph.”
“There are many things Rauph has been doing that are foreign to him.” Ives confessed darkly.
“I should just shoot the bastard between the horns.” Weyn continued to rant, moving to retrieve his bow.
“Let’s not do that right now.” Mathius lay a calming hand on Weyn’s shoulder taking in the Minotaur troops all looking in their direction. “Your chances of getting away with the assassination of the Prince Regent are slim at best. You may be the best archer I know but none of us is spear, sword and Minotaur proof.
“I can work with those odds.” Weyn spat blood from his split lip at the ground in disgust, even as he knew the assassin was right. “I know I can defeat him.”
“It’s the others you need to think about.” Mathius replied trying to calm the man further but knowing Weyn would remain hurt and angry until the heat of the exchange had abated. “You need to pick your moment.”
“Deep breaths now.” Ives commented. “Let’s finish brushing you down and then we can go and find out what is going on in a calm and rational way.”
* * * * * *
“Sinders where are you?” Ashe yelled, cupping a hand to try to enhance the sound and send it echoing through the darkness of the ship’s hold. The return call sounded lonely and full of poignant loss, matching the feelings blooming in Ashe’s stomach.
The Halfling held up Rauph’s magnifying glass, making his nose appear twice as large to any onlooker, before bringing the implement up to his right eye and examining the black and white feather he held there. There had to be more clues than this, there just had to be but the longer Ashe had sought his black and white pet the more despondent the normally enthusiastic Halfling became.
Ashe knew deep inside that the longer he went without finding Sinders the more chance there was that something horrible had happened to him. Maybe he had been sold into bird slavery, press ganged into service on another ship, or even bird-napped? Maybe he would get sinister packages with a ransom demand, or even feathers like the one he held in his hand, with more feathers being sent until the Halfling paid up and got a bald Sinders back.
That would be exciting…
The Halfling plunged his hand into his pocket and retrieved a silver bit and a candy sweet from the banquet now covered in lint from his pocket. If they requested a ransom any funding might be a bit of an issue. He would have to get a loan from Thomas to ensure Sinders’ return.
What if whoever had Sinders actually hurt him, making it impossible for the bird to come back? What if… Terrible scenarios flashed through the Halfling’s mind as he sank down onto the deck, his eyes trying to focus on the feather in his hand, despite the fact it appeared to be trembling. He considered the unthinkable. Ashe held his chest, feeling his heart pounding inside as if desperate to escape from beneath his rib cage. Tight bands ran around his torso crushing him and leaving him gasping for breath.
What if Sinders were dead?
The Halfling suddenly found he could not breathe. Spots danced before his eyes. He tried to suck in air and yet was powerless to do so. The air down here in the cargo hold felt hot and thick. Oh, why did his heart hurt so much?
“Are you okay?” Ashe looked up at the face of Abeline, who for some inexplicable reason appeared all blurred.
“Umm... What’s that?” Ashe replied, his mind racing to make sense of what was going on.
“You appear to be crying.” The acrobat stated in his Parisian accent. “I do not like to see my friends crying. What is up little man?”
“I have lost Sinders.” Ashe sobbed. “I went to the banquet and when I returned his cage was on the floor, the porthole was open and he had disappeared. I have searched everywhere but he is nowhere to be found. I don’t know where else to look, and I have no idea where he has gone.”
“Oh dear Ashe.” Abeline replied holding his hand out to help the little Halfling to his feet. “I am sure your bird is fine.”
“How do you know that?” Ashe gulped, wiping his sleeve across his tear streaked face.
“Because you still love your bird so much. How can anything be truly gone when you hold it so close to your heart, eh?” The crewman who normally spent his day either in the crow’s nest or swinging about the rigging letting out the sails or gathering them again, scooped Ashe up and took him to the ladder leading from the hold, sitting him on a step so he was level with the crewman’s nose.
“If I were you, I would talk to Austen. He knows all of the birds on this ship. If anyone has seen where your Sinders has gone, it will be him.”
“Are you sure?” Ashe smiled, his mind filling with fresh hope. “Oh that is such great advice. I wish I had thought of it.” The Halfling turned to scamper up the stairs, only to find Abeline refusing to let go of his shoulder.
“What?” Ashe demanded. “I need to go and see Austen right now, just like you said. Why are you not letting me go?” Abeline tutted and shook his head, holding out his free hand, palm up.
“Oh of course.” Ashe slapped himself on the forehead. “How foolish am I?” He reached into his pocket and drew out a drawstring bag that chinked as he weighed it in his hand. With careful deliberation, he started slowly counting out coins into the Frenchman’s hand.
“I have to be honest…” Ashe commented, as he continued piling the coins up in the acrobat’s hand and noting that the frown on the crewman’s face had yet to fade. “Most of my friends don’t charge this much for information. Oh what the heck! Have the whole bag.”
Abeline released Ashe and watched the little man shoot off towards the main deck before he opened the drawstring bag and slipped all of the coins back inside. He secured the pouch back in his jerkin and only then did he take the time to climb up the ladder himself.
“Most friends don’t end up paying for their information with the informant’s money.” He chuckled.
* * * * * *
“So tell me Drummon. You know it has been a while since I hunted here. What is the deadliest creature in these parts? Panther, Tiger, Wild Boar, Lurker Beast or what about the Nirschl?
“Nirschl?” Drummon almost choked on his water skin, dripping water down his chin. “What do you know of the Nirschl?”
“I know it’s dangerous.” Rauph replied. “More than a challenge for my slaves.”
“It will be suicide.” Dru
mmon replied. “There is only one in this jungle and she is really unhappy since Mother decided to keep her baby.”
“If the creature is so dangerous, what is there to lose? Just point us in the right direction.” Drummon turned about the clearing to get his bearings.
“That way.” He pointed to a dark trail, which still had heavy growth, signifying the path had been disused for some time. It’s about one hour away. Heavy going, but you will know when you get there because…”
“Of all the Death’s Head orchids.” Rauph replied. Drummon stared at Rauph in surprise and then let a smile crease his face.
“See, you are remembering things already.” The Prince Regent beamed. “It’s almost like you never left. May the gods bless your spears.”
Rauph turned and headed back across the clearing to his troops and Drummon watched closely as voices raised and accusing fingers pointed within the group. He stood arms crossed until the group headed for the trail, then gestured for three of his troops to come over.
“Follow them. Let them get a distance from here, then I want you to kill them.”
“Any particular order?” the younger Minotaur of the group asked, barely containing his excitement.
“Start with the archer. I want him to die first. Then it is totally up to you.”
“It will be done Prince Regent.” The squad leader promised, snapping a smart salute before gesturing to his fellow hunters and heading down the trail the crew of the El Defensor had just taken.
* * * * * *
The noises of animals, loud and threatening enough within the clearing, now became more sinister as the group hacked their way along the darkened trail. Ominous rustlings signalled that creatures were near but when the crew looked in the direction of the sound, they only caught the briefest of glimpses of dark creatures scurrying over the forest floor, slithering up the twisting branches or rapidly swimming away across forest pools of stagnant algae coated water. Larger creatures stared back at them with dark emotionless eyes as if daring the crew to attack, whilst others waited until the party had passed before breaking cover and climbing up into the forest canopy.
“This whole place is alive.” Marcus whispered. “I feel as if a thousand eyes are on me right now, watching my every move.”
“That’s because they are.” Commagin replied, turning slowly, the Lady Janet cradled in his arms. “And I will put good money on it that all but twelve of those eyes want to eat you.”
The monk came to a stop as the Dwarven engineer moved past and looked about him before realising that the six creatures who did not want to kill him were his own party. It did little to reassure the nervous cleric whose wide-eyed innocence had somehow become smothered in the oppressive atmosphere.
“Careful now.” Mathius warned, holding Marcus back as Aradol slashed relentlessly ahead with his father’s long sword, clearing a path through the thick vegetation. “How much further now Rauph?”
“I was told it was about an hour away. However, I have no idea how much time has passed.” The navigator shrugged, unable to check the sun in the sky and therefore calculate an accurate passage of time.
“Surely we should have seen the red orchids by now?” Ives commented. “We must have gone wrong somewhere. Let’s turn around and go back.”
“We stay together as a team and move forwards,” Mathius stated calmly. “If we separate in here, we may never find our way out.” The assassin suddenly turned around and stared back down the hacked tunnel they had travelled, his breathing calm, movements paused as his eyes searched for something to confirm the feeling he had in the pit of his stomach. He gestured to the engineer and suggested they move away from the others slightly back down the trail.
“You feel it too?” Commagin confirmed.
“Since the start.” Mathius replied. “We are being followed.”
“Three of them, maybe four.” The Dwarven engineer stated calmly. “Shall I wait for them here and introduce them to my mistress.” He patted the stock of the silver crossbow leaving no misunderstanding as to what the trackers would be acquainted with.
“Not yet.” Mathius replied. “I meant what I said. If we split up here, we may never see the El Defensor again.”
“Is that the orchid?” Marcus yelled, drawing the attention of the two men back to the rest of the group. “It looks beautiful but how are we ever going to get up to it?”
They had stopped at a fallen tree lying across the trail and were staring over its creeper-strewn bark towards an open area just ahead. Pools of still water mirrored the thick foliage above and emphasised the height of several tall, swollen trees, making them appear to drop far into the earth as well as soar upwards, their trunks strangled with thick vines and heavy mosses.
“Is that a Death’s Head orchid?” Aradol asked in wonder, lifting himself up and over the tree trunk and slipping down the other side only to sink inches into dark slippery mud that released a pungent odour of decay as he broke the thin surface.
“Where is the stupid flower?” Commagin enquired, finding it hard to see over the deadfall. “Help me up so I can see.” Rauph grabbed the engineer by the back of his tunic and hoisted him up onto the fallen tree so the Dwarf could stare out over the area and take in the vibrant blues, greens and purples in the thick vegetation bordering the clearing.
“I’m sorry,” Commagin continued. “But I can’t see it for looking.” Ives tapped him on the shoulder and pointed up the nearest gnarled trunk to where the tree appeared to have warped and twisted about thirty feet up from the floor, the thickened growth seemed to have created a platform similar in size to the stock they had all gathered around. Thick curtains of vegetation draped over the strange tree crown and right on the very edge, a solitary red orchid flower bloomed.
Rauph swung himself over the tree trunk and sank into the mud alongside Aradol, splashing the ancient armour and drawing a look of disbelief from the young warrior.
“This could be a problem.” The navigator muttered.
“It will be if I have to polish this armour by myself.” Aradol murmured under his breath.
“I thought the apothecary said they just grew on the ground.” Weyn remarked, slipping over the tree to land in the sticky mud alongside his crewmates, splashing Aradol’s armour for a second time.
“Really?” Aradol remarked at the extra splattering of sludge. “Please can we be more careful.”
“There’s another one over there!” Ives added from the far side of the fallen tree. “But I don’t think it is going to be any easier to get to.”
“Oh I see it.” Marcus pointed, gesturing to another strange tree crown further back into the clearing where a splash of crimson swung from the underside, the grey finger-like roots of the plant interwoven into the bark of the strange tree. “Let me see what I can do.” The monk jumped up and ran along the top of the dead trunk, his feet lightly placed and his balance perfect. He leapt from the end, grabbing a sapling that quivered under his weight and used it to flip himself across one of the mirrored ponds where he landed on some ragged clumps of grass before easing himself around behind one of the tall trunks and coming up fast when he saw what lay on the floor before him.
“Umm Mathius can you come and look at this?” Marcus shouted over his shoulder.
“Not really.” The assassin replied, trying to keep an eye on everyone and also keep his line of sight back along the trail. “I’m a little bit busy.” Weyn ignored them all, slogging across the mud and staring up the tree at his lofty goal.
“This doesn’t look too bad?” he commented, pulling firmly on one of the vines. “I think I can get up there without a problem.” He made sure his bow was firm at his back and started to climb up hand over hand, his legs swinging as he ascended.
Ives huffed and puffed as he pulled himself over the deadfall before dropping down the other side to watch Weyn climb up into the shadows. This was all too energetic for the merchant. He was simply not built for scramb
ling around in trees. He looked for a likely place to sit and noted a similar fallen tree set back into the vegetation. That would be a perfect place to watch the show. The merchant slithered and slid across the ground and finally arrived at the huge log. He spun about, placed his hands on the log and vaulted himself up to sit on the top. Something cracked as he sat down.
“Mathius I really think you should see this.” Marcus called again, with more urgency in his voice.
“Commagin?” Mathius turned to the Dwarf and signalled back the way they had come.
“Oh don’t worry.” The engineer replied, slipping down the side of the tree he had been standing on and placing it between himself and their pursuers. “The Lady Janet and I have got it covered.”
Mathius nodded then set off across the mud, his mind trying to process the threats in the area. There was something wrong about this place, something that did not seem right. He pulled his boot free from the mud and suddenly realised what it was. There were no wildlife sounds, no bird cries, no hooting, shrieking and braying. It was as if the whole jungle were holding its breath waiting for something to explode. Intuition made the assassin reach for his blades, even as he rounded the corner and slipped between the tree trunks to take in what Marcus was looking at.
There was a large depression in the ground, devoid of water but filled with something much more alarming. Jagged bones and shattered skulls littered the ground, interspersed between clumps of old foliage and dried moss. Ivory tusks from huge beasts lay discarded, along with ragged pelts stained dark with dried blood and wriggling with maggots. The heavy stench further emphasised that the two of them were staring down into what appeared to be a huge nest. Some leathery pieces of shell still lay at the bottom, cracked open, the sticky yolk within, a veritable feast for the buzzing flies that flew about in clear agitation at the disturbance caused by the two men.
“What kind of a creature has a nest like this?” Marcus asked.
“I’m not entirely sure.” Mathius replied. “I’m starting to think we need to get back over to the trail as quickly as possible.” A scream from across the clearing snapped Mathius attention to where Ives had been sitting but the merchant had disappeared.
The Labyris Knight Page 42
