“I…could…really…use…a…hand…here!” Ashe squeaked. “Stop…or…I’m…going to…throw…up!”
Sinders swooped down in a blur of black and white feathers, claws extended, beak pecking aiming right for the arachnid’s black eyes. The spider backed up, raising its long front legs aggressively, giving the Halfling just what he needed, room to slip free.
Ashe slithered out from between the spider’s legs and crawled rapidly towards Rauph, grabbing him by the breastplate and banging on it as hard as he could.
“Wake up you idiot. We are in trouble!”
Rauph opened a bleary eye and struggled to focus, hearing an annoying little voice and not understanding why he could not just sleep until it was his turn on watch back on the El Defensor. He shook his head, moving to sit up, noting that Ashe was wearing a lopsided antique helmet that looked battered and dented to hell. Then he looked past the Halfling to where Ashe’s stupid bird kept darting and diving about making such a din that it was giving him a headache. His blurred vision finally focused on a huge spider jumping and sidestepping at the end of the chamber, its blue fuzzy head bobbing and weaving, hairy black and white legs waving about angrily. A spider… oh yes, he had forgotten about the spider.
The navigator crashed back onto the ground, dragging Ashe with him and causing the Halfling to verbally deluge the comatose Minotaur with every variety of nut curse he could imagine. The thief got to his feet and as soon as he did, he heard the scuttle of hairy feet heading in his direction. His eyes dropped to Rauph’s battered swords sheathed on the Minotaur’s back. At last a weapon! He gripped the blade and was amazed how easily the weapon slid free from its scabbard and kept sliding and sliding! Gosh this was a big sword!
The point finally slid free scoring the stone floor as Ashe moved to lift the five-foot long blade from the dust. It required a herculean effort on the four-foot Halfling’s part, his little face flushed red with bulging veins standing proud on his forehead. The spider charged towards him, hairs bristling, eyes gleaming.
“Take this you hairy fiend!” Ashe announced, lifting the sword back over his head as in the pose of heroes from tales of old, before finding the weight of the blade dragging him backwards and nearly pulling his arms from their sockets. He skidded, trying to balance himself and spread his legs wide, then with a Halfling battle cry, he swung the blade mightily… and missed.
“Oh pickled pistachios,” he cursed as the blade crashed down and hit the dusty flagstones sending vibrations up its length and along the Halfling’s arms. The spider jumped backwards from the blade, then charged back in, intent on biting its elusive prey once and for all, only for Sinders to swoop in, slashing with its claw and cutting a groove in the creature’s blue head which knocked its trajectory off track, hitting Ashe a glancing blow, to send him sprawling one way and Rauph’s sword in the other.
The thief ended up squashed against the half-consumed Minotaur over by the grate and found himself desperately rolling over its grisly corpse, his hand coming down on something long forgotten in the dust. The spider darted in swiftly, its beady eyes narrowed in hatred for the tender morsel that just would not lie down and accept its fate.
Ashe got to his knees, frantically brushing strands of web from his face so that he could observe the arachnid scuttling furiously towards him. It’s black and white striped legs moved so fast it was like following a blur. He watched as it darted to the left, then to the right, always advancing in rapid bursts of speed. The Halfling swallowed hard. It looked so big, so hairy and so blue!
The Halfling firmly gripped the weapon he had discovered buried in the dust and tried to lift up the ancient spear but it was still held tightly by the hand of the Minotaur guard. The Halfling yanked the spear up, then found himself pulled down again as it snagged on the corpse.
“Oh come on!” Ashe screamed his frustration, wrenching the spear this way and that, desperate to free the weapon, just as the spider finally charged towards him. The arachnid leapt up into the air, legs outstretched, fangs bared as Ashe gave the spear one last almighty tug.
There was a dry crack, a sickening squelch, a sense of frantic wriggling and then Ashe found himself covered in hot, wet liquid that absolutely reeked! The spear snapped, the bottom of the shaft still retained by its deceased owner, giving the Halfling an entirely new perspective into the term ‘death grip’. Ashe went down and the wriggling spider came down on top of him, squashing him to the flagstones for one final time, its legs feebly twitching as it curled in tightly upon itself and suddenly appeared very small.
Ashe pulled himself free, coughing and spluttering, spitting pieces of furry spider from his mouth as he staggered back to his feet. Sinders swooped in towards Ashe’s shoulder, then squawked in horror and aborted its landing, veering off at the last moment with a staccato chatter of angry birdsong.
“Oh come on!” Ashe yelled defiantly, flinging his arms wide and splattering spider guts everywhere. “It doesn’t really smell that bad!”
* * * * * *
“Now heave!” Commagin yelled, his eyes bright at the prospect of finally completing the repairs to the El Defensor’s helm. “That’s it, watch your fingers Marcus, watch your fingers!
The Dwarven engineer inserted his crowbar and pushed down with all his might, trying to slip the newly repaired chain links over the cog so they would mesh with the teeth that controlled the rudder movement.
“Harder!” he grunted, gesturing that Marcus needed to pull the chain more towards the cog so that it would help with his own efforts. One link clunked into place, then another. “Come on, nearly done!” There was a mighty bang as the final link slammed into place, Marcus snatching his fingers away with inches to spare.
“Man the helm.” Commagin ordered, his breath coming in gasps. “Turn the wheel a quarter to Starboard, then do the same to Port but do it slowly, understand?”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got it.” Marcus smiled smacking the dwarf on his back. “Give me just a second.” Commagin wiped his brow with his handkerchief and held his breath as the cog took up the tension then began to slowly creak, then turn, one chain link at a time clicking into place and meshing with the cog. His eyes stared intently through the thick glass lenses of his spectacles, watching as the newly forged link he had used to repair the chain rose into view and clicked smoothly into place riding over the cog inches beneath the engineer’s nose.
The link fitted perfectly into the teeth of the mechanism and showed no signs of rough edges or hairline cracks indicating his metalwork was sound. The chain stopped turning then reversed motion the new chain link rolling back over the cog as smoothly as it had traversed in the other direction. Commagin exhaled with relief, confident now that the rudder would hold. He reached into a bucket at his feet and smeared grease over the links with a brush to protect the chain from rust and wear, then pushed the bucket and crowbar out onto the deck and climbed out of the hole. Marcus was already there waiting, his face beaming as they both slid the hatch back into place.
“A job well done.” Commagin sighed, content that this engineering challenge was now resolved and allowing himself the first smile he had taken in a long time.
“The rudder responded to the helm.” Austen confirmed walking over from the stern where he had been positioned to check its movement, Thomas will be pleased, well done Commagin.”
“Not a moment too soon.” Marcus pointed towards the jetty where a Minotaur troop were marching down towards them.
“Free the lines! Unfurl the sails!” Commagin snapped, “Take us out Austen.”
“Where to?” the helmsman replied. Commagin looked across the strait to where the huge maze rose from the jungle, the roar of the crowds reaching them despite the distance. “Let’s go where all the excitement is.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.” Commagin replied, as the sails above him unfurled with a snap and instantly filled with the breeze. He stared up through his glasses at the
blurry shapes of the two brothers Plano and Abilene moving about the rigging and realised he could never wish for a better crew. The stomp of marching feet turned into a run as the Minotaur troops now charged down the quayside but it was too late, the El Defensor had been held in port too long and was already easing away.
Marcus suddenly staggered, as if struck and sank down onto the deck beside the dwarf, his face suddenly pale, his skin clammy.
“Are you alright son?” Commagin asked, concern etched across his aged features. “You don’t look very well.”
“I’m not sure.” The monk replied, “Maybe I have overdone it. I feel empty as if all of my energy has just been drained from me.”
“Just sit there and rest a moment.” Commagin replied. “You city folk just haven’t got the stamina of us seafaring lot. You sail with me for a few more years and I’ll make a man of you. Mark my words you will be fine in a moment.” The Dwarf got to his feet and walked across the deck to the nearest crewman and whispered into his ear.
“Fetch Violetta quickly. Something is wrong with Marcus.” Commagin ushered the crewman away, then walked slowly back towards the monk, not liking the sudden change that had come over the youth. One minute he had been vibrant and full of strength, now he looked a shadow of himself, aged and in such a short passage of time. That meant only one thing. Sorcery was at work.
* * * * * *
Rauph wrinkled his nose in disgust. There was a terrible odour wafting up his nostrils! It made him want to gag. It was the smell of snails caught out in the noon sun, when they all bubble up and froth inside their shells. It was like… oh words were just beginning to fail him and whatever it was, it was just inches from the end of his nose! He dared to crack open an eye and groaned.
“Hiya Rauph!” Ashe beamed, waving a slime covered hand and looking as if something massive had just blown its nose on him. “Here, have your sword back.”
The navigator sat up sharply, instantly alert, not sure if it was down to the brown slime dripping from the Halfling all over his armour or the thought that Ashe had been playing with his sword. To Rauph each scenario was by itself horrifying! He got to his feet, trying to brush off the sticky residue from his armour, snorting and wrinkling his nose at the foul odour, before reaching out and taking the offered blade.
As soon as his hand closed around the grip, he knew he had made a mistake. The hilt was wet and sticky and as he moved the sword to sheathe it, he realised that long slimy strands were still firmly attaching the Halfling to the hilt. Rauph’s eyes narrowed as he took in the goo oozing down the fuller of his weapon, then stared around anxiously looking for something to wipe the longsword clean. Ashe stood as patiently as he could, hands on hips, helmet askew, slime dripping from his nose.
“You know this place is very interesting.” Ashe commented as Rauph darted from one pile of rags to another, trying to find something to clean his weapon on. “We seem to be beneath the maze. There are passageways everywhere going off into the darkness and I wanted to go off exploring but with you sleeping I knew I had to…” Rauph stifled a squeal as he turned around and noticed the corpse of the giant spider all curled up upon itself.
“Oh don’t worry about him.” Ashe shrugged. “He’s dead. No one messes with me and Sinders.” Rauph looked towards the Halfling in disbelief, his face set in a look of doubt.
“As I was saying, there are long straight passages everywhere with torches on the walls. I’ve brought some in here for us to use but come on its exciting, there are loads of places for us to explore.”
“You tell me the passageways run directly beneath the maze.” Rauph stated slowly. “And that they go everywhere.”
“Yes, yes!” Ashe gestured impatiently. “Everywhere. Where would you like to go?” Rauph stopped moving for a second and closed his eyes as if gathering his thoughts or seeing something only he was privy to.
“I want to go that way.” the navigator pointed, indicating with his huge hand over towards the right, a grin crossing his bovine features. “And I want you to stay several steps behind me.”
* * * * * *
Miguel Garcia looked down at the open console with disbelief. Someone had come here whilst he was on the Neptune and had stolen all of the tools he had kept here! He stared around the barge, taking in the panorama of the crushed and decaying ships listing and groaning under the mustard sky and cursed whatever bastard had done this. Whoever it was had even eaten his favourite candy bar, one he stored here just in case of low blood sugar emergencies. He was not diabetic but you could never be too careful!
The waters swirled and gurgled, lapping over the far edge of the barge and slopping up the deck every time Horatio or Cornelius stalked towards that end. Sleek grey shapes knifed through the depths, circling in anticipation at the vibrations made by the huge lizards, hoping that a missed step would deliver food. Beyond the open stretch of treacherous water, a line of archways marched one after the other into the distance.
The buccaneer shivered, risking another look over at the cluttered skyline, his eyes searching for the hounds or any signs of their terrifying master and his strange glowing lights that heralded his arrival. The slow grinding turn of the shipwrecks meant that the construction site around the arch Malum expected the El Defensor to sail through, had slipped past an hour ago. Miguel estimated it would be several more before his barge completed the circuit and returned to the point where the danger lay.
Miguel dropped to his knees and started inspecting the assembly of broken remains that made up Pheris. How was he going to pull lose a wire and jump start the barge if he had no tools? He turned the cyborg’s torso over, checking for an access port, a power outlet, something he could jury rig. His mind turned to the wires in the console. If he could strip a lead of its insulation and plug it directly into Pheris, then maybe he could get enough energy to fire it up.
He bent to the task, peeling the insulation free with his teeth and twisting the leads together before sticking the makeshift flex directly into Pheris’s discovered power output. The barge shuddered, its lights flickering on and off.
“Come on! Come on!” Miguel willed the machine to catch, willed the turbines to kick in, only to watch everything splutter and stop again. He looked up from his project, searching for someone to blame and noticed Cornelius and Horatio sniffing the air and moving towards a pile of rubbish dumped at the corner of the barge. Horatio still had that stupid racoon hat on him and appeared to have adopted it as a fashion trend all mercenary lizards should follow.
That was funny he never noticed the pile of refuse there a minute ago. Miguel considered investigating himself, then felt the hairs on his arms rise as if there was a massive build-up of static electricity.
“What in the worl…” the sky split apart just above the water, revealing a rapidly flickering scene, fading in and out of focus. The energy pouring from the rift made Miguel’s teeth chatter and his hair stand on end. There was an annoying buzz in his ear like tinnitus but in the next second it sounded like a musical instrument playing beautiful tortured music.
There was a bright flash, forked lightning shot across the sky, an explosion of parchment papers, glass vials, even a suit of armour fell from the fissure, then three people appeared, falling from the sky to splash into the murky water. The rift spluttered then disappeared with a bang, knocking Miguel off his feet. Electricity crackled and surged over the barge, arcing through Pheris body and down into the console making its engines ignite and roar, lifting the stricken vessel free from the water’s grip for the first time since Miguel’s ill-fated mission had brought him here.
Miguel looked down at the console and all the green lights as the power banks filled to capacity, a smile spreading across his face at his good fortune, just as the sea bubbled furiously in front of his vessel and a large sphere, or some kind of opaque bubble rose from beneath the surface with the three people inside.
The sphere crackled and then collapsed in on itself with
a thud, dumping seawater and the cargo of three people down onto the deck. Miguel quickly ran his eye over them as they groaned and coughed up water, his hand reaching for one of his reloaded pistols. A scholar of some kind clutching a large book like a lover, a thin man with pointed ears who had his hands tied together and reminded Miguel of someone he had known in the past, all be it this man was much thinner and… his heart beat faster.
A woman of impeccable beauty, porcelain skin, long black ebony hair and wearing a sodden fur coat over skin-tight robes that revealed more of her body than they covered. Never one to pass up on an opportunity to help a pretty lady, especially one clearly in distress, Miguel shrugged his shoulders tried to straighten his hair, then stepped forward to offer his assistance.
“It is not often that an angel falls from the sky and lands on my ship.” He began, offering his free hand. “My name is Miguel and by the look of you, I am sure you have a fascinating story to tell me.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
Kerian scrutinized his strange host from across the room, careful not to react as the man stood up and casually walked towards him. Now he was closer, Kerian could see that his long blonde hair was unkempt, his skin sallow as if he rarely saw or ventured out into the sunshine. His clothes were grubby, as if they had not been washed for some time and his leather boots were stained with black marks.
The knight tensed as his host approached, detecting a scent of musk from the man that made him feel decidedly uneasy. His instincts told him to strike this person down despite the fact that no hostility had yet been shown towards him. Warning growls from Octavian and Agnezkia stopped Kerian from reaching for his sword. Two other snarling creatures emerged from behind a large table and padded across the room, dropping down to the ground against Kerian’s boots, their teeth bared.
The Labyris Knight Page 85
