by Andrew Lynch
If the hatchet could carve out a chip, then the sword should be able to do much more. He could end this now. Before the pounding fists of Markun knocked Gar into oblivion.
Lucian began his awkward, lopsided charge at Markun’s back. As he got within striking distance, he heaved the sword above his head.
Jess shouted, ‘I did it!’
Whatever that meant, Lucian couldn’t have stopped his attack even if he’d wanted to. He strained as he swung the sword, eyes closing with the effort. Almost as if the sword was guided by magic, it twisted in his hands. Lucian briefly thought it might be inertia, not magic, but then the sword landed.
The feel of stone reverberated up Lucian’s arms, forcing him to let go of the sword. His hands were numb, and he opened his eyes to see the damage he’d done to Markun.
He’d hit the floor.
After hitting Gar’s shield.
After cleaving straight through the flesh and blood of Markun.
Jess must have done her job.
The corridor, the shield, and Lucian, were now covered in blood. Lucian wasn’t squeamish, but he’d learned there was a difference between not minding blood, and being covered in it. He started to gag, reminding him of his aching throat.
Darrius ran to the unmoving Gar’s side.
‘He looks... well, he looks kind of okay all things considered, sir,’ Darrius said.
Lucian shook off his revulsion at the blood, wiping it from his mouth so he could speak. ‘He took a real pounding before I could get to him. Are you sure?’
‘I didn’t say he looked good. Just relatively speaking.’
Gar jerked awake. ‘Ow.’
Darrius laughed. ‘Can’t say I’ve seen you lose consciousness before, friend!’
‘No talk. Face hurt,’ Gar groaned.
Darrius slid the shield off him, but when Gar tried to get up, stopped him. ‘Take a moment. Don’t worry.’
Allowing the friends to have their moment, Lucian took stock of the situation.
‘That was you, Jess?’ Lucian asked. ‘Neutralising his stone skin?’
‘Of course. He was being fed magic by someone very powerful, but at such a great distance it could be disrupted.’
Lucian looked back to the still unconscious Khleb. ‘How is he?’
‘Broken nose, definitely,’ Darrius said. ‘Broken wrists, possibly. He’s not going to be happy when he wakes up, but he’ll live. I guess. Gar’s better at this than I am.’
Lucian thought things through in the aftermath of Markun’s death as he flipped over one half of Markun’s corpse, rifling through loose pockets. He found an assortment of meats on sticks and other sundry items, but then came to the insignia at the body’s neck. A hammer crossed over a shield with an orb above it. But this one had the sockets along the bottom filled - three blue shards at the bottom of the pendant. He handed it over to Jess after wiping some of the gore from it.
‘Are these the same as the shard from the cave? And the same insignia?
Jess stared at them for a long moment. ‘Yes. Definitely.’
There was no question about it - Markun’s unseen master also controlled the bandit they found in the cave. Was this shadowy figure Moxar’s nemesis, the God Killer?
Even if it was, at least Moxar had gotten away, reputation intact.
Yes. Lucian and his team had done good work here in Mounthold. On the down side, they’d assaulted Imperial messengers and killed a town magistrate - although he was definitely a villain, so that was what a real Hero would do.
But they still needed to get ahead of Moxar and the Aviq, if Lucian wanted to stand a chance at becoming a Hero himself!
After a few minutes, Lucian got everyone moving. Gar seemed remarkably unharmed from the beating he’d received, but took the opportunity to complain mercilessly about his painful joints, and that he’d be better in a healthcare role. He did this all with single syllable words.
Khleb remained unconscious after his failed assault on Markun, but Gar had no problem carrying him as the team made their way to the inn where the wagon and horses had been left. The short journey across town started out problem free, but half way there, alarms started being raised. Shouts between guards echoed down the streets, calls of finding the magistrate murdered. Lucian prayed they could remain unseen, and stuck to the cover of darkness. Having an Elf and a man from Karagar made them very distinctive. Even without those sore thumbs, Khleb tended to stick out in his own way.
They reached the wagon without incident, and Gar placed Khleb in the back. ‘Where now?’
‘I had hoped to ditch the wagon here, and get some faster horses. Get in front of Moxar again,’ Lucian said. ‘As it stands, we'll have to keep it. Can’t have you carry Khleb all the way.’ Sure enough, Gar was flagging, and starting to look more like he had been smashed in the head by a living rock.
The loud clang of armour approaching made them all duck. Guards organising themselves after finding their magistrate dead. Cut in half, actually.
Lucian peered round the wagon to see where they went. A line of guards stood shoulder to shoulder. ‘Damn, they're blocking the streets.’
‘We can’t get faster horses,’ Darrius reasoned. ‘And the wagon won’t make it past a blockade. Do we just lay low, sir? Wait it out?’
Lucian thought about the options. ‘That’s the safe choice, yes. Wait for the Company to send help when they realise things have gone wrong.’
Would Lord Orson take away his chance at becoming a Hero if he messed this up for Moxar? He didn’t want to lose that, but more importantly, laying low and waiting for things to blow over didn’t seem heroic at all.
Smart, maybe, but not heroic.
‘The docks,’ Lucian said with a quiet determination. ‘We'll find a merchant crossing from here to the next town along the coast. It will be quicker than going by land, so we may get in front of Moxar again. Even if we don’t, Khleb will be awake, so we can ditch the wagon here, right now. You can carry him to the docks, right?’
Gar nodded.
There was a moment of silence as everyone thought it through. ‘We will have to make it to the docks unnoticed,’ Jess pointed out. ‘And the chances of a merchant ship just skimming past the mountains to the next port seem slim. It is an easy route by land. But we are close to the docks and I dislike the idea of doing nothing.’
‘Sounds good to me,’ Darrius agreed.
‘Don’t want let Moxar down,’ Gar said.
‘All right. Ready Gar?’
Gar turned silently to pick up Khleb. Upon looking in the wagon he started making odd noises and waving his arms, restraining himself from a shout to a muffled whisper. ‘Wolf!’
Lucian had forgotten about the wolf. He jumped up to help Gar and saw the wolf licking at Khleb’s bloodied face. He didn’t know if that meant she was about to eat him or not.
The wolf was coming with them anyway, so Lucian took out his hatchet, and chopped the rope acting as the wolf’s leash. He yanked the wolf away from Khleb.
Peculiarly, a wild wolf standing in the middle of the group put everyone on edge. It was basically free because really, what was anyone going to do to stop it?
‘What are you doing with it, Lucian?’ Jess asked, nervous.
‘Gar, did she hurt Khleb?’
Gar slung Khleb over his shoulder, hitting the thieves head against the wagon. ‘No.’
‘We saved her, so I guess we keep her with us.’
‘There’s no question about it,’ Darrius said. ‘We already decided!’
Having made this decision - again - and with everyone ready to dash to the docks, Lucian peeked his head around the wagon.
He found himself locking gazes with the guard who had challenged him on the bridge. Old, grumpy, and just doing this to keep himself active.
‘Oh for...’ Lucian muttered. ‘I don’t suppose I can stop you from calling out to your colleagues?’
The old guardsman didn’t seem particularly shocked at Lucian appeari
ng from behind the wagon. ‘Are you kidding me, boy?’ he said, looking far happier than before. ‘This day has been some of the best exercise I’ve had in years. I feel a chase would do me good.’ He shouted loud enough for the guards at the end of the street to hear. ‘Found them!’
‘To the docks!’ Lucian shouted.
Darrius sped off into the night like an arrow. Jess had a natural grace to her run, it looked like an elegant dance, and she kept up with Darrius with no effort. Gar could usually sprint with the best of them thanks to his long stride and powerful legs, but after using his face to block Markun’s punches - and having to carry a limp Khleb over one shoulder - he was the slowest. Or would have been, if it wasn’t for Lucian taking up the rear.
Not by choice, of course. He was being held back by an anchor. The wolf had decided to sit. Not in a stubborn manner like a child might, but in a fashion that left you in no doubt that it was a bloody wolf that would do whatever it wanted.
‘Come on,’ Lucian said in frustration, tugging on the leash. Fortunately the old guard had no intention of actually catching him, and was stretching his legs for the run ahead. He’d leave the apprehending or stabbing to the younger guards. ‘You’re a pack animal, aren’t you? The pack just left!’
Footfalls from the guards running towards him echoed down the cobbled street, and he looked up. He only had a few more seconds before there was no way he could outrun them. He had no chance at all if he carried the wolf, which was sitting there panting lightly, sticking its tongue out like an idiot.
Lucian gave a final tug, but the wolf was determined to stay. ‘Stupid wolf!’ He dropped the leash and ran.
It was only thirty metres to the stairs leading to the docks. A normal village would have had a big wooden ramp, but this place couldn’t get enough of stone, so a winding staircase was hacked into the side of the cliff. Probably carved by apprentices over centuries as their punishment for displeasing their masters.
Lucian reached the staircase breathless after a flat out sprint. The dock was twenty metres below, lit by torches, with several boats docked at the jetty. Darrius and Jess had already made it to the bottom with a speed Lucian simply didn’t possess. He knew they'd be smart enough to start convincing a ship’s captain to set sail. Gar was halfway down the steps. Lucian looked over his left shoulder to check on the guards behind him. Not being weighed down by armour and weapons, he had gained some breathing room.
A wet noise drew his attention just before he started down. He looked over his right shoulder and sure enough the she wolf was by his side. Lucian didn’t know anything about wolves, but she seemed happy to be moving again.
He decided to leave her to her own devices. As he moved, he heard an object cutting the air behind him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a spear hurtling towards the docks below. Various angry shouts came from the guards. The wolf sprinted down the stairs and out of sight.
Lucian took the first set of steps three at a time, but as he came to the first torchlit landing where the stairs hairpinned back on themselves, he realised just how wet they were, and slipped. He crashed into the side of the cliff, face first.
Lying on the floor, nose bloodied, wits gone, he knew the guards would be on him any second. He slowly rolled over, groaning from the pain. Had he lost a tooth? He saw the first guard appear at the top of the staircase.
In panic he scrambled to his feet and made his way down the next flight of stairs, shakily, tripping down steps but managing to catch himself. The head wound he’d just received made his vision blurry. He couldn’t see the steps at his feet. He needed to sit down, rest, let the blood return to his head.
He took two more flights in this same shaky manner. Half way down the cliff face, he slipped again. This was as good a place as any to die, is what he would have thought if he had been that lucid. Instead he was thinking about how he’d let his team down and failed to become a Hero.
A reddish grey hue eclipsed his eyes before he lost consciousness.
When he awoke it felt as though hours had passed.
The evidence pointed to that feeling being wrong. It was still night, he was still lying where he had fallen, and there was still a group of guards trying to get to him. One of those guards lay next to him, throat ripped out, blood gushing all over the landing. A low, bass, growl reverberated in Lucian’s chest.
Its source was the wolf, standing guard half way up the stairs. Lucian could piece together what had happened. The first guard’s throat had been ripped out, and unsurprisingly now the rest were cautious. They were growing bolder as they were forcing the wolf to back up, keeping themselves out of danger with their spears.
One of the guards lunged for the wolf. She danced to the side and snapped at the spear, managing to yank it from the guard’s hands.
Lucian took a moment to marvel at how his team had managed to capture the wolf back in the snowy mountains.
His few seconds - or minutes, he couldn’t be sure - of unconsciousness had cleared his head. However his face hurt like never before, he could feel more than one loose tooth, and his hands had been cut up badly by his multiple falls.
He pulled himself to his feet and started down the stairs once again. The guards were in an uproar about their quarry getting away, but all they could do was force the wolf to retreat. Slowly, because they seemed a sensible lot.
Lucian made it to the bottom of the stairs at last, and staggered on to the relatively small wooden dock. He saw his group arguing next to one of the ships. He hobbled over, noticing a spear sticking out of the decking. Out of a person’s head actually. In a thousand to one stroke of bad luck, the guard’s spear had hit a sailor.
As he reached the argument, he quickly got the gist of it. They'd left their money in the supply wagon.
‘Ye don’t have anything of value! I shan’t risk me ship on the word of some beggars I’ve never met before,’ the tall, whip thin, captain said.
Lucian decided it was time to make some bold promises. ‘I assure you, sir, we can more than pay for our passage. We may not have gold on hand, but that can be arranged at port.’
‘Arr, it cannae be done. Off with ye!’ The captain turned, clearly unimpressed with the newcomer. Lucian was limping pretty severely, and knew his face must have looked horrific, so he couldn’t blame him.
‘Wait! If not gold, then we can trade!’ Lucian shouted desperately.
This gave the captain a moment of pause. He turned, intrigued.
Lucian rummaged through his pockets to see what he had. He pulled out some cold, wet meat. He threw it on the floor and kept rummaging.
As if summoned, the wolf appeared and started eating the discarded meat. Lucian looked behind him and sure enough the guards were spilling on to the dock.
He pulled the small figurine given to him by Markun from his pocket.
‘You’d offer me that?!’ The captain’s eyes grew wide.
Seeing how much the captain wanted it, Lucian jumped on the chance. ‘Yes, yes! This highly valuable and sought after idol can be yours. All we ask for is passage to the next town along the coast.’
The captain scratched at his beard. ‘I’d like to, lad, but as you well know, the idol of Goddess Ocean can only be given freely. Never in trade. Bad luck for a ship to set sail if you cross her.’
Lucian’s shoulders slumped lower than they already were, and he rummaged again through his pockets, finding the pocket watch. ‘Every captain could use a watch.’
‘True enough, true enough. Yet, I have a natural aversion to small clocks. Don’t trust them. Something that small keeping time? Must be bad magic. And you know what bad magic is?’
Lucian was about to answer when the captain continued. ‘Bad luck for a ship to set sail with bad magic aboard.’'
The guards had gotten over their fear of the wolf now they had space to spread out, and advanced in formation, brandishing their spears. Darrius, Jess, and Gar turned to face them. As if seeing them for the first time the captain decided to hurr
y things up.
‘So they were the rapscallions that speared me deckhand?’ His face screwed up in anger, and he pointed to Khleb. ‘That man’s ring, the idol, and the watch, then we launch this instant.’
Lucian didn’t have time for the feints of bargaining right now. ‘Done!’
They scrambled on to the boat, the guards at their heels. The captain shouted at his men to cut the lines, and they pulled slowly away after some truly amazing swashbuckling from Darrius - especially considering he didn’t even have a sword. Scathing words and retorts managed to keep six guards at bay. The wolf and Gar’s presence probably helped too.
A few seconds out from the dock, and Lucian collapsed on the deck. Before losing the struggle to stay conscious, he had time to look at the ship’s flag.
‘Oh for... who chose a pirate ship?’
Chapter 11
Lucian, Khleb, and Gar had spent the first day aboard the ship recovering. Khleb had awoken and quickly complained that he couldn’t do anything with his hands. Lucian hadn’t asked what he had attempted to do to find that out while confined to his bunk. Gar continued to seem unaffected by his battered face, but Darrius insisted he stay in the Sickman’s quarters.
Painful grazes plagued Lucian’s body, along with a broken nose, and a lost incisor tooth. He couldn’t keep himself from tonguing the gum where it had been.
He also had a bit of trouble counting past ten, but the Sickman assured him that would go away. ‘Arr, you’ll either get better and remember how to count, or you’ll die.’ He was a practical chap, for sure.
The second day saw everyone on deck, helping out if possible. Lucian seriously contemplated whether Khleb had seen this coming and allowed his hands to be disabled on purpose. The proof of his innocence however, was that he couldn’t even play dicey cardy with any off duty shipmates.
Lucian had questioned Khleb about Markun, but apart from admitting they knew each other years ago, he was as illuminating as Lucian expected. No help finding out if Markun really was connected to the bandits or the shadowy overlord. However, Khleb had been more than happy to talk about the strange pirate customs he was picking up. All relating to gambling, something about the “pirate’s code”. Khleb didn’t much care about the intricacies but it seemed to be something about cheating being totally fine, and as long as your cheating was bold enough, getting caught didn’t matter. Lucian felt that was a rather crowd dependant ruling. Hardly empirical like a game should be.
