Reecah shook her head, unable to speak.
The tooth-rattling squeal of massive hinges pierced the night. Water frothed along the base of the iron lattice as it parted. Enormous gates swung inward—separating faster than Reecah believed possible.
She craned her neck, waiting for the inevitable crunch of the masts as they passed beneath a thick, overhead bulwark, but the ship slipped through with plenty of room to spare.
Voices cried out from somewhere unseen and the latticed gates reversed their motion.
“Welcome to King’s Bay.” Cahira grinned, scanning the shoreline crammed with buildings of all shapes and sizes. “And the twin cities. Each renowned for equal parts of wonder and misery.”
Reecah took her gaze away from the fiery lights illuminating the shore on either side of the bay and glanced at Cahira. The burning fires reflected off the still waters, casting the Serpent’s Slip in an ethereal light. She couldn’t help thinking Cahira looked pretty when she smiled.
“To your right lies Sea Keep, the home of Draakhall. Unless yer highborn or desire a quick death, stay away from that side.” Cahira’s smile was short-lived as she turned her attention to the north shore. “Over there, is Sea Hold. The fortified city housing the king’s army, their families, and everyone else required to wipe the shit from his majesty’s boots.”
What an odd thing to say. The sailor’s closest, cast Cahira uneasy looks.
The iron gates clanged shut—the noise echoing off the tall buildings lining either side of the immense bay. The Serpent’s Slip veered toward the north shore.
“Well, I guess this be good-bye, then, eh?” Cahira said, a sadness in her eyes. “Yer a different girl, Reecah Windwalker, I’ll give ya that. I don’t know what yer after but I hope ya find it.”
Reecah blinked at the gruff redhead. Though she’d only known her for a couple of days, she felt a strong affinity toward the unusual woman. “I’m grateful to have met you, Cahira. I’m indebted to you for getting me here.”
“Pfft. Please. Come find me next time ya happen to see this old brig and let me know how thankful ya are. Ye may wish ye’d never saved me sorry arse.”
Reecah gave her a sad smile. “I would never think that. Besides, it’s my fault you got into trouble. I’d be honoured if I could call you my friend.”
Cahira tilted her head and looked away. She ran the back of her hand across her face. When she looked back, she struggled to keep Reecah’s gaze. “I ain’t to be taking kindly to people who make me cry.”
Reecah could only imagine how difficult it was for such a tough person to openly share her emotions. She sputtered a nervous laugh. “I’m sorry. I never meant to…” She couldn’t say anymore without breaking down, so she held out her arms.
Cahira made to shake her hand, but Reecah hugged her. Arms hanging limp, Cahira awkwardly accepted Reecah’s embrace.
“Thank you,” Reecah whispered through Cahira’s coarse hair—its scratchy ends tickling her cheek. “You were the light I needed to guide me free of the darkness I had fallen into. I’ll never forget you, my friend.”
Cahira stiffened, but her hands slipped across Reecah’s back, returning the embrace—hesitantly at first, and then growing in strength until she squeezed the air from Reecah’s lungs.
Reecah disengaged with the hope of breathing again. The grizzled sailors standing on the bow grumbled and shook their heads at the two women, but Reecah didn’t care. She held Cahira by the hands. “How do I go about getting an audience with the king?”
Cahira’s eyes bulged. “Yer kidding, right?”
Reecah shook her head, a mischievous smile turning up the corners of her plush lips. She rapped her quarterstaff off the deck and patted her sword hilt.
“I knew there was more to ye than ya let on.” Cahira scanned her from head to toe. Shaking her head, she pointed to the housing running along the top of the sea gate. “Ya see the northern gate tower? If ya can sweet talk yer way past the guards, ye can walk across the Sea Gate Bridge. Once yer in Sea Keep, I’m not sure what to tell ya.”
Reecah nodded. It wasn’t much but it would have to do. At least she was here. A few days ago, her desire to reach the city of the king had been an impossible undertaking. All she had to do now was figure out how to get an audience with him. “You’ve done more than enough. Don’t worry. I’ll find a way to get into Draakhall.”
Cahira uncharacteristically grasped Reecah’s hands—her moist, brown eyes full of compassion. “See to it you figure a way to come back out.”
Chizel
Stepping off the gang plank, Reecah searched the rails for Cahira, hoping to wave good-bye, but the gruff redhead was nowhere to be seen.
She stopped to look around, not knowing where to spend the night. It would have been nice to do so aboard the Serpent’s Slip but Cahira was adamant she go ashore the first chance she got.
There wasn’t much activity on the large dock, though the night air was rife with boisterous laughter and loud voices from the direction of the streets.
She started along the wooden planks, walking between several ships moored along either side of the long pier and listening to the chatter escaping the boats. The clump of boots from behind sent a shock of apprehension through her.
A wiry man stepped from Serpent’s Slip’s gangplank. He looked her way before walking down the dock in the opposite direction.
It was too dark to make out his features, but she was sure she had seen him on deck before. More than once. She shrugged. It wouldn’t be unusual to have seen him a dozen times over the last couple of days. The ship was only so big.
Stepping off the dock onto dry land, she reeled, certain the ground swayed beneath her. A smile eased her tension. She had finally gotten her sea legs and now the ship’s deck felt like it remained under her feet.
Having no idea where to spend the night, she turned left, toward the gargantuan superstructure bridging the mouth of King’s Bay—its mass a dark blot in the distance.
The dockside walkway terminated at the edge of a stone building blocking her path; its foundation built into a rocky crag shooting out of the black depths of the bay. Dagger in hand, Reecah slipped into a dark alley between it and a multi-storied, wooden building.
Reaching the far end, she gazed in wonder at the well-lit, cobblestoned street. People gathered in small knots outside the many doorways lining the street on either side. From the look of them, they were sailors and dockhands—tough-looking men and women she thought best to avoid. She furtively scanned the nearest groups, hoping not to notice anyone from the Serpent’s Slip. She no longer enjoyed the protection of Captain Dreyger or Cahira.
Absently checking her bow was strung properly, she tested its tension. Sheathing her dagger, she ensured her sword belt and cummerbund were securely buckled. Thrusting her chin high she strolled into the light, her quarterstaff clicking rhythmically off the cobblestones. Her insides twisted as she feigned having walked this road many times before.
Curious gazes followed her progress. She did her best not to look at them, but it was hard to ignore a few of the catcalls directed her way. She kept telling herself, as long as no one recognized her, she would be okay. All she had to do was reach the Sea Gate.
She strolled past bars, brothels, and assorted businesses on her right, while smithies, shipwrights, and tanneries disappeared behind her on the left. Looming in the distance, the Sea Gate bulwarks dwarfed the tall buildings lining the streets.
The uneven cobblestones caused her to stumble more than once as she craned her neck to take in elaborate shop fronts festooned with fancy scrollwork and guarded by gargoyles depicting fantastical creatures that were dominated by fangs, claws, and sported wings of all descriptions. A couple of intricately carved dragons captivated her to the point that she didn’t see the three-and-a-half-foot, brown-bearded man, smoking a long-stemmed pipe.
She almost fell over him, her quarterstaff cracking him in the skull and knocking the pipe from his hand. Before sh
e could catch herself, her heel came down on the pipe, grinding its fragile stem into a cobblestone.
“Oi!” the yellow-toothed man shouted, spittle shooting from his thick lips.
“Oh!” Reecah stepped backward; a look of horror crossing her face as she caught sight of the broken pipe. “I’m so sorry, mister. Please forgive me.”
The dwarf shook his scruffy mane. His eyes narrowed as he inspected the contents of the flagon held firmly in his other hand. Squinting, a hearty smile transformed his hardened expression. “No harm done, lassie. Ain’t spilled a drop! Oi!”
Reecah didn’t know what to make of the little man as he quaffed half the tankard of foamy liquid and wiped his froth-covered beard with the back of his dirty hand. She picked up the pieces of the pipe, the bowl hot to the touch. “I’d love to repay you…” She cast sad eyes at the broken pipe in her hands. “But I haven’t any money.”
The man considered her with a tilted head, his shoulders as wide as he was tall. Powerful arms, the size of her thighs and corded with muscle, crossed over his large stomach. “Yer new around here or I’ll be a horned owl.”
“Yes sir. Just got in.” She wasn’t sure she should divulge too much, but it was the least she could do to be civil to a stranger she had wronged. “I’ve never been here before and I guess I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“Ya guess, eh?” The man’s right, brown eye squinted more than his left, green one.
Reecah’s cheeks flushed. “Um, yes sir. It was clumsy of me. I wish I could repay you.”
The dwarf smiled, running the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip.
She recoiled, expecting the same treatment she experienced in Thunderhead, but the dwarf surprised her.
“Ye can start by taking better care, missy. Ain’t safe for a purty lass to be struttin’ around this area after dark. Less’n yer meaning to strut, that is.” His large eyes searched her body. “I must admit, by the look o’ ye, I wouldn’t be keen on messin’ with ya.”
Reecah tilted her head, scrunching her features, trying to decipher his words. “Thank you. I just sailed in and am looking to get to Draakhall.”
The dwarf lifted a thick eyebrow. “Ye are, are ye? Well yer going in the right direction. Get yerself o’er the Sea Gate Bridge an’ ye’ll be in company more suitin’ a lady.”
“What about your pipe?”
“Och, don’t ye be worryin’ yer purty head o’er it.” The dwarf accepted the irreparable bits from her hands; gazing sadly at the remains in his massive palms. “T’was the last thing I had left of me dead Mam.”
Reecah gaped, an icy wave of horror washing over her.
The dwarf’s green eye looked up, a great smile creasing his pudgy face. He winked. “I’m funnin’ with ya. Me Mam smoked a much bigger pipe ‘n this.”
Letting the bits fall to the cobbles, the dwarf crushed them beneath the heel of his black boot. “Perhaps I’ll be seein’ ya at Draakhall sometime, eh?”
Not waiting for a response, he waddled away—toward a group of seedy-looking individuals.
Reecah stared after him. The tough men and women towered above the dwarf, but seeing his approach, they parted to let him pass.
She thought about his last words, “Perhaps I’ll be seein’ ya at Draakhall…” She wanted to ask him a bunch of questions but by the time she worked up the nerve, he was gone.
Turning to the Sea Gate blotting out the sky ahead, she checked her gear was secure for the countless time, scanned the shadows for signs of danger, and started up the street.
The closer she got, the more incredible the Sea Gate became. Her neck grew stiff from staring at the stone structure’s lofty heights illuminated by flickering sconces set along its upper edges. Latticed iron gates, as wide as the street and several stories high, blocked her progress from funnelling between two circular towers on either side; each one rising higher than the Sea Gate Bridge itself. If she wasn’t mistaken, the towers were taller than the Fang—the natural rock formation at the head of Dragonfang Pass.
“Halt!” a deep voice beckoned.
Absorbed in her observations of the massive structure, Reecah jumped.
A clean-shaven man in leather armour and chainmail sleeves stepped out from a doorway at the bottom of the bayside tower. Movement across the street from the opposite tower startled her further as another guard emerged from the shadows.
The first guard approached, his dark eyes noting her weapons. “What business do you have here?”
She wasn’t sure what he meant. “Why nothing, here. I wish to get to Draakhall.”
“A wise one, huh? What’s your business at the castle?”
“My business?” She stalled, not thinking it was a good idea to tell him she was here to stop the dragon hunt. “I don’t really have business.”
“Be off with you, then.”
“I need to speak with the king.”
“The king? You know him, do you?”
“Well…” She searched for something important to say, but nothing came. “I don’t.”
“Exactly. Move along or I’ll have you in chains.”
She searched the man’s face. “Does that mean you’ll drag me in front of the king?”
“Ha! Hardly. Depending on the magistrate on duty, it’ll likely mean an appearance in front of the harbour kraken.”
Being from Fishmonger Bay, the titles of dignitaries were foreign to her. “Do you think the harbour kraken has the ear of the king?”
The guard spit out a laugh. “I should hope not. The beast certainly has the ear of many, but not High King J’kaar.”
The guard didn’t make sense. “Where can I find this harbour kraken?”
The guard’s eyes darted to the dark water lapping at the side of the tower. His sword slid free of his scabbard. “Alright, miss. You’re either a troublemaker or have consumed too much ale. Either leave now or I’ll slap you in irons.”
The guard from the far tower ambled closer, sword drawn. He lifted his chin at her but spoke to the guard confronting her. “Another looney?”
The first guard nodded. He turned his attention on her. “Well? What’s it going to be?”
She didn’t know what to do. She wasn’t sure what being slapped in irons curtailed but by the way the man phrased it, the process didn’t bode to be a welcome experience.
“How does someone get an audience with High King J’kaar?”
“You don’t. Unless you’re someone of importance. His Majesty hasn’t got time for the likes of you. I would hazard to say you aren’t high-born or a dignitary from another realm.”
Reecah shook her head. She wasn’t a good liar.
“Then be gone. I shan’t warn you again,” the guard growled, his eyes never leaving her hands.
The second guard adjusted his stance—his gaze taking in something behind Reecah.
Ambling into the shadow cast by the tower, the dwarf belonging to the pipe she had stepped on, confronted the guard; another pipe in hand.
“What’s goin’ on?” The dwarf stopped at her side. “Ye ain’t giving me friend a hard time, are ye?”
The way he framed the question, Reecah thought he was talking to her but the guard straightened his posture and lowered his sword. “Just doing my job, Master Chizel. You know this lady?”
The dwarf drew on his pipe. Exhaling a puff of smoke, he laid a huge hand on the small of her back. “Aye, we go way back, don’t we…?”
“GG.”
“Aye! That’s it. GG and I go way back. She’s on her way to Draakhall. Unless ye’ve gotten a reason to hold her, I expect ye to be showing the lass the royal courtesy she deserves, eh?”
The guard bowed his head. “Yes, Master Chizel. If you vouch for her, she’s free to go.”
The dwarf smiled and held out a hand toward the gate. “There ye go, Miss GG. Come, I’ll walk with ye to the castle to make sure ya ain’t detained no more.”
The guards bowed their heads and returned to their respective t
owers.
Shortly after the first guard disappeared beyond the door at the base of the bayside tower, the massive iron gates rattled and squealed, parting wide enough to allow Reecah and Chizel access to where the street met the bulwark at the base of the Sea Gate.
Chizel led her to a door in the near tower, similar to the one the guard had entered. Inside, a sparsely lit stairwell spiralled into the darkness above.
Chizel let her go first and closed the door behind them—its latching mechanism echoing hollowly. “I hope ye ain’t afraid o’ heights.”
If Chizel only knew how high a dragon flew.
“If yer prone to swooning, it’d be kind o’ ya to warn a fella afore ya fall to yer death.”
“I think I’ll be okay.”
The tower stairs spiralled around the inside of the tower for a long time. Reecah was surprised at how much her thighs burned by the time she left the top step and stopped in front of the exit door to catch her breath. Climbing steps was different from scaling mountain heights.
She glanced down the stairwell. Chizel was nowhere to be seen, but the slow cadence of his ascent reverberated in the quiet atmosphere inside the tower. Hearing him grunting far below, she decided to push through the door and wait outside, appreciating the cool night air.
Huffing and puffing, the long-bearded dwarf staggered through the door and bent over, shaking his head. “There’s got to be…a better way.” He glanced at Reecah. “Must be nice…to have such…a slim body…to climb in.”
Reecah chuckled at the bizarre comment. “It gets me by.”
Chizel tried to laugh but coughed instead. “I’ll bet it does.”
She didn’t know whether to be offended by that comment or not, so she let it go. Waiting for Chizel to recover, she enjoyed the open-air view. A narrow span of interlocked stone ran in a straight line south of their position, across the wide mouth of the bay—the twin towers at its far end barely visible against the night sky.
Chizel sidled up beside her and followed her gaze over the Unknown Sea. “Scary world out there amongst the waves. Not a place I like to travel.”
Legends of the Lurker Box Set Page 37
