Karinga’s face melted from anger to concern as he walked over to David. “Tanner, are you alright?”
David nodded. “I’m fine, Captain. And thanks to Edge, he’s fine too,” David said, pointing to the battered Georgie. He looked to the other five men who had been in on the taunting, but none of them dared meet his gaze.
“Good,” said Karinga, walking David towards the quarterdeck. “What do you say you, Fyke and I tap one of those ale barrels and discuss where we are going to go from Port Cauldwell?”
Fyke stuck his head up from the quarterdeck. “Did I hear the magic words ‘tap one of those ale barrels’? If so, I know just the one!” Fike turn and practically skipped towards the spar deck, bringing a smile to David’s face.
* * * * * *
Warm spring afternoons at the Archbishop’s University of Avonshire were Eleenia’s favorite time of the year. Class loads were light, her coming two hours in the dish pits of the great kitchens would soon be over, and the sun shone on the beautifully manicured courtyard as the Holy Defender senior initiates began to mold their new charges. Boys barely 15 years had promised their lives to the church. They had arrived full of hope, idealism, and naivete, only to have their perceptions of the order and their young worlds shattered by the harsh realities that would mold them into true men of God.
Sitting on the ledge of a raised flowerbed, Eleenia watched Gabriel walk back and forth not four legs away, giving the junior initiates lessons on the order. She saw so much of her father’s manner in him; however, he had inherited their mother’s intuition, insistence, and much of her looks. Eleenia’s intuition and powers of discernment were tenuous at best. She relied much more on logic, and she had her father’s gift of strategy, being the only one of his children to ever defeat him at a game of King’s Table. The sweet victory was a singular occurrence, and he had trounced her every other time they had played, although her father was the only one so far who could defeat her at such games.
A tear rolled down her eye as she watched her brother, her only link to her family, now that their uncle Rameus had seemingly vanished. The last month had been so hard. The other daughters of nobles had shunned her upon learning of her family’s deaths. They taunted her by saying she was now a commoner, even though she had a claim of royal blood, King Nicolae being her uncle. In spite of that fact, her uncle had disowned her mother upon the marriage to her father, and in turn had disowned her.
Perhaps they were right. Perhaps she was now but a commoner.
Eleenia shook the thoughts from her mind. She was not one to give into such petty notions. After all, it was a person’s actions that defined them, not birth. The lowest gravedigger, rat catcher, and middens tender who went about their life content, doing their job to the best of their ability was far more noble than a pampered dandy who had never did a lick of work in his life. That is what she believed in her heart, and expressing such beliefs in front of the nobles’ daughters had gotten her into a number of heated shouting matches. The arguments had only come to blows once, but after Janelle’s lessons the other two girls were no match for her. After their trouncing, the girls had resorted to gossip and snide comments. However, now that she had moved into the commoners’ hall, much of the drama was behind her.
Of course, the lies the nobles’ daughters had told and her fight had landed her in plenty of hot water, literally. Instead of just six hours a week in the dish pits as prescribed by Bishop Sentius, she had been assigned work hours at no extra pay. She now worked in the pits seven days a week for two hours a day while the other girls received no punishment whatsoever. The thought of it made her clench her fists in anger.
“My child, what vexes you?”
Eleenia was startled by the cathedral convent’s Mother Superior. “I’m sorry, Reverend Mother. I was just angry about the judicial board’s extra work hours placed upon me. It was unjust. They are just pandering to the nobles.”
The middle-aged nun placed her hand on Eleenia’s shoulder. “Worry not, my child. God knows the truth. If their judgment was based upon lies, it will return to them. Remember the words of the Apostle Paul in his letter to the Romans. “Avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath: for it is written, Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.”
“Yes, thank you, Reverend Mother,” Eleenia said.
“I have prayed for you every night since I heard the news about your family, Eleenia.” The nun patted her on her shoulder. “I shall speak to Father Steven and get to the bottom of this. It is the least I can do after the service your father once performed for me.” The nun smiled at Eleenia’s quizzical look and was off.
Eleenia sighed, resting her elbows upon her knees and placing her chin in her hands. It suddenly occurred to her that she should have asked what service her father had performed, but the nun was nowhere in sight. So, Eleenia turned her attention back to Gabriel as he explained the Holy Defender Articles Of Faith to the young initiates.
“Your first task shall be to learn the Articles Of Faith! You shall be able to recite them by the next Sabbath in any order asked of you if you wish to avoid cleaning out the privies!” he said, pacing back and forth with his hands clasped behind his back.
“One: Service to the Church above all, save God himself. Service above family, above country, above all! Two: Conduct yourself in a manner that reflects well upon the order, the Church, and God. Three: Discern the difference between good and evil. Four: Be cooperative between your brothers of the order. Five: Always give mercy when it is asked of you. Six: Be respectful to your elders. Seven: Do not permit your thoughts and actions to grieve the Holy Spirit. Eight: Be faithful between teacher and student. Nine: Defend those who are weaker than you. Ten: Aspire to be an example of virtue that the world can look up to. Eleven: When you suffer, you suffer for God. Rejoice in your suffering!”
Gabriel paused as he was distracted by a messenger charging through the courtyard on horseback. He continued. “Twelve: Never take life needlessly. Thirteen: Keep short account of sin. Fourteen: Respect those in authority over you, for they were placed there by God. Fifteen: Never reveal the secrets of the order to those outside of the order. Sixteen: Do not be rash with your mouth, and let not your heart utter anything hastily before God. For God is in heaven, and you on earth; therefore let your words be few. Seventeen: Always pursue peace.
One of the initiates whispered something to the boy on his left. Both broke into hushed snickering.
Gabriel stopped and pointed to the two initiates. “Brother Simon, Brother James, after your lesson you shall report for class two work duty!”
He stared at the two boys as they groaned. “Shall we make it class one work duty? I’m sure the privies need a good cleaning.”
Both boys lowered their eyes and settled down.
“I thought not. An hour peeling tubers, polishing armor, or waxing floors is lenient punishment for your immature behavior.” Memories of his own punishments ran through his mind. He had been tempted to make it level three work, delivering messages or reading to old clergy who no longer had use of their eyes, but justice won out over mercy. By going easy on the boys at this point would only make things harder later on.
Gabriel continued. “Eighteen: Walk properly, not in revelry and drunkenness, not in lewdness and lust, not in strife and envy. Nineteen: Let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven. And most importantly, number twenty: Give all glory to God.”
The large Cathedral bells rang twice, echoing through the courtyard, marking the end of the lesson. They also marked the end of Gabriel’s duties for the day.
“That’s all. Report to Father Alexis for martial training. I shall meet you all at the evening meal.” Initiates always dined under the scrutinizing eyes of their mentors. The knights knew it drew them closer, but the younger initiates grumble
d amongst themselves that it was just another opportunity to be given work hours.
Gabriel watched as his four charges lackadaisically stood up and dusted the grass off of their pants. “Move, gentlemen! Father Alexis does not suffer tardiness lightly!” With that, they hurried to the western end of the crowded courtyard. Walking over to the flowerbed, Gabriel sat down next to his sister.
“A bit harsh on them, weren’t you?” Eleenia said grinning.
“Nonsense. Tobias would have had me knee deep in maggoty garbage for that.” He stretched his arms and yawned deeply, causing Eleenia to yawn. “Are you finished with your duties?”
Eleenia nodded. “Care for a game of Tabula or King’s Table?”
“I don’t know. After you defeated me at Chatrang in eight moves yesterday…” he said, chuckling.
“Ah, afraid, are we?” Eleenia said, poking him.
The noise level in the courtyard started to increase. Two monks ran past in the direction of the main gates. One by one, people started to follow them, speaking quickly and unintelligibly.
“I wonder what’s going on,” said Eleenia quizzically.
Gabriel shrugged. He caught an acolyte running past. “Boy, what is happening?”
The young acolyte stopped, panting for breath. “Bishop Malachi has arrived in Avonshire with the children from Castle Ki Kalendeen!” he said.
Brother and sister looked at each other for the briefest of instants, and they both broke into a run. Eastward they ran, pushing their way through the growing crowd. Gabriel grabbed Eleenia’s hand and pulled her along as he carved a path to the gate.
Gabriel offered up a prayer as he and his sister dodged through the crowd. Could David be with them? He would give ten years of his life if it were so. Although all messages they had received stated that all of the Ki Kalendeens had been slain, something told Gabriel that they were mistaken and that David was still alive. At last, after a month of emotional torment, he would find out if his intuition was right.
The inland port city’s docks district was two short blocks from the sprawling university, and the two covered the distance in a matter of minutes. The dockside market was as crowded with clergy, Defenders, and initiates as the cathedral during the Feast of the Resurrection. While being one finger short of six feet, Gabriel still couldn’t see over the crowd, although he figured that the Bishop and the children were at the center.
Gabriel’s eyes quickly darted around, looking for Eleenia. The crowd was quickly pressing in against him.
“I’m right behind you,” she said. “Stand still and force people to move around you.”
Gabriel nodded in acknowledgement. Eleenia could always be counted on for strategic advice. He dropped into a front fighting stance, placing most of his weight on his front leg, leading forward with his shoulder. As Eleenia had predicted, the crowd flowed around him like water around the keel of a ship.
Eleenia kept pressed up against him, determined to not get carried away in the current of people. She clung to his green-lined blue cloak, which he had received upon becoming a high initiate.
“Get back! Let the children through!” someone yelled. Two Holy Defenders were leading Bishop Malachi and the children through the throng of bodies. Everyone was yelling towards the Bishop, shouting questions about the attacks. Malachi kept his stoic eyes forward.
“Move, initiate!” one of the Defenders said to Gabriel, attempting to shove him aside.
“Bishop Malachi!” Gabriel was determined to catch his eye. The Defender pushed him from the side, causing him to stumble sideways out of the way. Eleenia was carried with him as he became part of the crowd, starting to become carried by its flow.
“Wait!” shouted the Bishop. “Eleenia, come here, my child!” he said, stopping in his tracks. “Gabriel, Eleenia! For goodness sake, let them through! Children, step aside. Let them through!”
Gabriel fought his way towards the Bishop, Eleenia still clinging to his cloak.
The Bishop took both of them into his chubby arms, giving them a crushing hug. “My children, I am so sorry about what happened.”
“Liam!” Eleenia cried, as she caught glimpse of the young Branvold boy over the Bishop’s shoulder. She dislodged herself from the Bishop’s embrace and went over to him.
“Your Grace,” said Gabriel, as he and the Bishop parted. “David?”
Malachi looked down towards the ground and shook his head. “I’m sorry. He insisted on staying behind.”
“Your Grace, I must insist that we keep moving!” The Defenders pulled the Bishop and the children along with them. Eleenia stayed with Liam, pulling him along.
The crowd quickly carried the group away, leaving Gabriel standing, mouth agape. The reality of his last vestige of hope being gone hit him in the gut like a fist. Dropping to one knee, he hung his head and wept.
* * * * * *
Port Cauldwell was the largest port David had seen thus far. Elgannan’s Port Cirill was said to be larger, but it escaped David as to how this was possible. Docks filled with ships lined the city for a quarter league in each direction from where the Waverunner put in. Everywhere were strongbacks and hawkers, sailors and merchants, all taking part in the whirlwind of commerce going on in the Decian capital.
When they came in sight of it, the first thing that struck David was the sprawling alabaster-colored buildings that went from the sea right up to the mountainside. Ships with flags of every color were coming and going. Gualian and Germanian long-distance cargo ships, usually rare this far north, were peppered throughout the port. Over the past several generations, many people from the port cities of Elgannan and Gylinia had fled to Port Cauldwell in order to avoid the war and the press gangs, as able-bodied sailors who imbibed too much ale at a seaside tavern often found themselves an involuntary member of the navy. With the war having been quiet the last twelve years, the flow to Decia had slowed, until recently. Aragil’s surprise attack a mere six months after King Nicolae renewed his offensive to retake Denning had once again caused the mass migration to Decia to take hold.
To the Waverunner, that meant cheap labor for unloading and hauling goods, plus a plethora of able-bodied and experienced sailors. Before the landing party had even stepped off of the gangplank, a score of men had shouted offers for their services to Karinga. He had selected six of them to carry some sample wares to his contact’s place of business.
In addition to David, Captain Karinga had brought along Edge and Fyke. This was a guild-run port, and Gaeceric had men stationed all throughout the city. Gaeceric was demanding that Karinga pay 20 gold per month in dues to be allowed to trade. Karinga, of course, had refused. Although in principle David could understand why, their level of profit was quickly rising to make 20 gold a drop in the bucket. David was waiting for the right moment to broach the subject with the captain, as not having to live in fear of an attack at sea or in port might be worth it.
Over the last twelve years, since Gaeceric became the leader, the Sea Merchants’ Guild had grown in power and influence. It had also grown in reputation, and not for the better. After Gaeceric’s predecessor had led a mercenary army to Pirates’ Cove and rid the region of most of the large pirate fleets and captains, the guild had quickly sunk to fill their place. As a result, many of the former members had disassociated themselves from the guild, only to become targets for guild piracy themselves.
Since Karinga was a small operator, and not overly successful, he had mostly passed unnoticed by the guild. However, after the altercation in New Portsmouth and David’s subsequent enlistment as the Waverunner’s Yeoman, David believed that was about to change.
Slowly the group made their way through the throngs of people. David had purchased several pears from street vendors, although due to the stink of the refuse and waste that filled the alleyways of the city, he quickly lost his appetite. He had ended up giving the pea
rs away to a pair of thin little orphans, most likely brother and sister, who now followed them. The two had quickly eaten the pears, cores and all. David was about to turn and give them some silver when Fyke tapped him on the shoulder.
“Here we are, Tanner. This warehouse is run by Lady Malcoeur. She and Jax go back a long way, but watch yourself in these negotiations, lad. She could sell a king a shack in the Devon swamps, and have him pay twice as much as a manor on the Thane costs. We shall definitely know your true mettle as Yeoman after this.”
David was ushered by Fyke into the warehouse office area. Immediately his senses were assailed by the contrast with the outside world. The whites of the city gave way to a myriad of colors. The filthy stink of the streets were replaced by the sweet smell of incense. The walls were painted with a bright sky blue and pictures of landscapes that few eyes had seen were captured by the imaginations of their creators. Expensive furniture was sparsely but tastefully placed throughout the large waiting area and light streamed in from high, small windows spaced every two feet across the entire room. David was overwhelmed by the sheer elegance. Even his father’s castle couldn’t match Lady Malcoer’s tastes. This fact brought butterflies to David’s stomach, as he feared he might be in over his head.
The two street orphans darted past Fyke and stood by David, bringing the smell of the city with them. They looked to David expectantly. Reaching into his pocket, he gave them each five silvers before Fyke shooed them back outside.
Blood Of The Righteous Page 22
