by James Dale
"Definitely not in Kansas anymore," he whispered. But where the hell was he?
With the new day, Braedan roused his new companions. Dorad shared the last of his water and they resumed their march along the ancient forest path on empty stomachs. The three men traveled along at a leisurely pace, but even at this unhurried rate they were almost dead on their feet by midmorning. With no breeze to speak of, heat quickly became unmerciful and oppressive under the thick canopy of leaves. To compound their misery, the path was soon overrun by vines and other vegetation, becoming indistinguishable from the surrounding forest. Exhausted though they were, they reluctantly drew their swords and began to hack out a trail.
About midday however, the heat lessened and they sensed the stirring of a light breeze. Soon the sound of a crashing surf also reached their ears. A few minutes later they broke clear of the Ailsantain Forest and found themselves on the beach. Sparking green waves slapped seductively against the sandy shore, promising a respite from the heat and to wash away their sweat, even if it couldn't quench their ravenous thirst. The three men quickly shed with their weapons and boots, and although Braedan had on more gear, he was the first to stumble to the water's edge and dive headfirst into the cool, refreshing waves.
"Judas Bloody Hell!" he shouted as he surfaced, shaking his head and sending saltwater flying. "I don't think I've ever been happier to be out of a forest."
"Mara," Dorad laughed as he appeared beside him. He swept his hand from horizon, encompassing the vast sea. “Aeralnen Sanga’io.”
“Sanga’io?” asked Jack.
“Mara,” Dorad explained, resuming his lessons he scooped up a handful of water, put it in his mouth, and spit it out.
“Saltwater,” Jack nodded, “Wait, not water. Water is A’io so….”
“Mara,” Dorad repeated, scooping up more water, then once again swept a hand from horizon to horizon. “Aeralnen Sanga’io. Sanga’io. Caeol,” he said, holding open palms close together. “Sang.” He said, moving them far apart.”
“Caeol,” Jack grinned. “Wide? Widewater? Aeralnen Sanga’io. Aeralnen Widewater.””
“Aeralnen Widewater,” Dorad nodded, slapping him on the shoulder.
“Yes, Aeralnen Widewater,” Tarsus said, wading out to join them. He splashed the warm seawater on his chest, washing away sweat and grime. It stung in his cuts and scraps but he ignored the miniscule pain. “But where are the longboats? Where is our ship Dorad? Where is my ship?”
Once again, though Jack couldn’t understand a word the large man said, he clearly understood what was transpiring. The pair had led him out of the forest and to this beach, to the sea, and Tarsus had obviously expected to find something that wasn’t here. A ship perhaps?
“Ae fias agahm,” Dorad shrugged.
If that phrase didn’t mean “I have no idea,” Jack thought to himself, he didn’t know anything about body language.
Muttering to himself, Tarsus waded back to shore and flopped down on the sandy beach, putting his boots back on. Dorad and Braedan followed him. “Expected to find a ship, didn’t you?” asked Jack.
“Mara Maedha,” Dorad nodded.
Had he understood him or was the young man reading his body language now? “Mara,” Jack said, pointing back to the water. “Sea? Maedha?”
“Maedha,” Dorad nodded. He thought for a second, then grinned. “Maedha. Aaaa, aah aahooo!” he howled. “Maedha.”
“Mara Maedha,” laughed Jack. “Seawolf? That’s your ship’s name! Seawolf.”
“Mara Maedha,” Tarsus muttered, belting on his sword. The huge man walked a few yards up the beach, gazed about for a moment, then turned around and marched back past them and stared in the other direction. Obviously, he was at a loss to determine which direction the “Mara Maedha” the Seawolf lay. He looked up at the sun, then back at the forest. Finally, he made his choice.
"Sair rah da sa tuath," he said, pointed up the beach to the north.
Dorad shrugged, took a seat on the sand and put on his boots. He stood and waited for Braedan to do the same. “Tuath,” he said, pointing in the direction Tarsus was walking, already fifty yards down the beach.
Jack had an uncanny sense of direction. He’d not been lost navigating in the wilds since he was twelve years old. The sun was over his left shoulder. Tuath was north. He could feel it in his bones. He and Dorad gathered up their weapons and hurried to catch up to Tarsus. They only traveled about two thousand yards up the coast and around a curve in the beach when they came upon the two long boats and their guardians. Both of the men were stretched out in the sun, fast asleep.
"Oi Oi!" Tarsus bellowed.
The two sleeping men jumped to their feet, one falling flat on his face as his feet became tangled and the other cutting his hand in his haste to draw his sword.
The large man let out a string of obvious curses as the pair had managed to regain their composer somewhat. When he finished, they were cowed but still curious and a string of questions followed from one of them. Braedan caught none of it but he did manage a few words of Tarsus' reply. Norgarthans was one. Morde or Morda was another. That word or a variation of it meant death in several languages. Tarsus pointed at the long boats they’d been using for beds and the two men scrambled to obey, pulling on the bow and dragging them towards the sea.
“Bata,” Dorad said, pointing at the long boats. “Bhata,” he said pointing a couple hundred yards off the coast where Braedan now noticed a three masted, sailing ship. “Mara Maedha,” Dorad smiled.
Jack understood that easily enough. Little boats. Big boat.
The big boat was obviously the Seawolf.
Chapter Six
The Seawolf
The two longboats were ready to launch in short order. Tarsus climbed into one and the fellow pushed it free of the beach and hopped in. The other man stood at the bow, looking at Braedan with open suspicion while Dorad waited for him to board.
“Thagan, Jack Braydaon,” Dorad said, pointing to the longboat.
Jack looked out to sea at the waiting ship. He had no idea where he was or what he was doing here. He had no idea where this ship would take him. He only knew on the word of a teenage girl, he’d walked willingly into some sort of violent, Never Never Land because some old man in her dreams said he had to follow a monster to end his nightmares. If Jen had suggested that to anyone other than him, they would have thought the young girl was suffering in shock. Maybe delusional. Until just a few days ago, Jack would have thought so as well.
“Thagan, Jack Braydaon,” Dorad said again. Seeing his obvious hesitation, the young man thought quickly. He looked into the longboat and spotted a basket that had held the food stores for Gar and Bedegam as they waited for their return. He picked it up and showed it to Jack. “Faelam,” he said, showing them the empty interior, then shook it so he could see nothing remained inside. He then pointed back to the forest. “Ailsantain du faelam, Jack Braydaon.”
“Food?” asked Jack, miming eating by moving hand to mouth. “There’s no food in the forest?”
“Nay, nay. Faelam,” Dorad repeated. He pointed back at the forest. “Ailsantain du faelam. Caedam. Morde. Faelam,” he repeated again.
Caedam had been the word for trees. Morde was certainly death. Or dead. It meant the same thing. The basket was faelam…empty? Jack suddenly guessed. Was he trying to say there was nothing here but trees and death?
“Ailsantain du faelam,” he said again. “Thagan du Mara Maedha, saebhal Aeralnen Wide-water. Tarsus, Dorad, Jack Braydaon. Caeraid,” Dorad finished placing a hand over his heart.
“Caeraid?” asked Jack.
“Caeraid,” Dorad nodded, offering him his hand. When Jack took it, Dorad stepped closer and gave him a brief embrace, patting him on the back. “Caeraid,” he smiled, releasing him. “Chaidaem caeraid.”
Jack began to put it all together. The forest was empty. There was nothing here but death. But on the Mara Maedha, on the Seawolf, there was Tarsus and Dorad who were his…
Chaidaem, had been the word for sword. Sword friends? Companions?” That was his choice. Stay here where there was nothing but trees and death, or join two men whose lives he’d saved on their ship. They had to be going somewhere. Somewhere had to be better than here, right? Jack made his choice.
“Okay, Dorad,” he nodded, “I’ll come.” Jack said, pointing at the longboat.
Dorad slapped him on the arm and smiled. That was a gesture of friendship which required no interpretation. Jack climbed into the long boat and Dorad and the other man pushed from the shore and began paddling.
By the time they reached the ship, a large crowd had gathered at the railing. Every man had come to see why only five men had returned, and one of them a stranger. As they began ascending the rope ladders thrown down to them and the boats were hauled aboard, every last man rushed forward and began to ask a dozen different questions.
"Samach!" Tarsus shouted, climbing over the railing. The babble was temporarily silenced. “Dorad gae Jack Braydaon cair ae charian.”
“Thagan, Jack,” Dorad said, after helping Jack aboard. He took him by the arm and led him through the curious crowd.
Was Tarsus protecting him somehow by having Dorad lead him away? They were certainly the most…dangerous and disreputable collection of sailors Jack had ever laid eyes on. A few of them eyed him with looks that could not be taken as anything but threatening. Not for the last time, he wondered just what in the hell he’d gotten himself into.
As the pair walked away, question broke out anew.
"Quiet! Damn you!" Tarsus shouted again. "Where's Lars?"
"Here sir," replied the navigator, stepping into view.
"You are the new Master of Sails until we get this all sorted out. Get us under way."
"Where to sir?"
"Just away from here for now," replied Tarsus. “Take us north.”
"Aye, aye sir."
Tarsus turned to address the rest of the crew before they could once again begin their questioning. "Lads! Captain Cullibranos and the rest of the landing party are dead! We were ambushed by a patrol of Norgarthans. Get to the oars and pull us into some wind. Those bastards didn’t walk all the way here. We lost almost a quarter of the flaming crew in that damned forest. If we run into one of their warships, we are shark meat. Cease this infernal yapping and get to work! I'm going to get some food and some rest. All hands be on deck at seven bells and I’ll give an account of what happened in the damned Ailsantain and we will have a vote to replace lost officers.
“Does that include a vote for captain?” one of the sailors asked.
“Of course,” Tarsus nodded. “We will follow the rules of the Brotherhood. But until the vote, I’m still the flaming in First mate. Help Lars get us the Hell out of here and away from this flaming place. Rhonn!” he finished with a bellow, ignoring more questions.
“Here sir,” replied a burley, apron clad man.
“Bring some food to the captain’s quarters,” Tarsus ordered. “I haven’t had so much as a bread crumb in two flaming days.”
“Aye, Tarsus,” Rhonn nodded, and hurried away.
Without explaining further, Tarsus headed off toward the captain's chambers.
In the captain’s quarters of the Seawolf, Tarsus Aernin settled down for some well-deserved rest with Dorad Ellgereth and a thoroughly bewildered Jack Braedan. The huge Amarian stretched out on Cullibranos deliciously comfortable bunk, a jug of strong red wine cradled in his massive arms that he’d liberated from the recently deceased captain’s private stores. Dorad and Jack were sitting at the captain's table, a pewter mug in their hands and a jug of the same wine sitting on the table between them. The troubles and hardships of the last few days were fast becoming a distant memory thanks to the wine and Braedan was just about to try and figure out how to ask his new “sword companions” what would happen next, when there was a tentative knock on the door.
Tarsus belched lustily and the knocker took that as a sign to enter. Jack looked up as an apron clad man entered the chamber with two wooden trays piled high with beef, figs, dried apples and wedges of dark yellow cheese. Behind him came a boy no older than twelve or thirteen carrying two loaves of dark brown bread.
"We brung you your food, captain," said the galley chief, setting the trays on the table. "It ain’t much, but it wuz all I could put together on short notice. It is going to be Captain Tarsus now, right?" he asked.
“It is,” Tarsus nodded. “The vote may be close, but I will challenge if they select another. It’s my right as First Mate.” The Amarian could have challenged Cullibranos when he’d been selected three months ago. He could have defeated him easily. At the time, Tarsus hadn’t wanted to deal with the responsibility. Times change. He wanted it now.
"Thank you for the food Rhonn," Dorad said, taking the trays and setting them on the table as Jack eyed them hungrily. “Ithe suas,” he said, breaking apart a loaf and handing half to Braedan. “Aran.”
“Bread,” Jack nodded, taking a bit.
“Bread,” smiled Dorad around his own mouthful. The two men began to devour their supper as the conversation continued.
“So, who’s this then?” Rhonn asked, inclining his shaven head toward the stranger.
“Jack Braydaon,” Tarsus replied.
At the sound of his name, Jack stopped eating long enough to nod at the man who’d brought the food and wink at the young boy.
“And he is…” Rhonn ventured.
“Some sort of half Ailfar Ranger as far as we can determine,” Tarsus continued. “Can’t speak the Common tongue. I can’t speak any languge I know. Flaming mystery, it is. He’s a fearless bastard though. He was tracking a Hell-beast through the Ailsantain if you can believe it. We were out-numbered five to one when he ran into us. If not for him, no one would have made it back alive. Got no idea where he’s from. Dorad is trying to figure it out.”
“An Ailfar Ranger?” the young boy asked excitedly.
“Half-elf at least, Heath,” Tarsus shrugged.
“And you brought him on the ship because?” Rhonn asked.
“Because he saved our skins,” Tarsus replied. “And…if Dorad can talk him into in, I plan on making him Master of Arms,” the Amarian grinned. “He fights like a Caladini Berserker.”
"What happened to Cullibranos?"
"Took a sword to the gut," Tarsus smiled, fingering the Star of Issa around his neck. "I tried to shake the hand of the fellow who did it, but he misunderstood my intentions and I was forced to kill him. Damned shame that."
"Damned shame," Rhonn said with a grin. "Any man what would kill that worthless son of a..."
"Hear, hear!" interrupted Dorad, stopping his eating to enter the conversation. "Not in front of the boy."
"Sorry sir."
"Mister Dorad?" The young boy asked. "What happened to Mister Falco? Did he...did he get kilt too?"
"I'm afraid so lad," replied Dorad tenderly.
"He was teachin' me sword fightin' you know," Heath sniffed, a tear rolling down his cheek. "Like a father he was to me since my da got et by that shark." No longer able to control his emotions, the young boy fled the room sobbing.
"You'll hafta excuse him," Rhonn said, shaking his head sadly. "It's gonna be hard on the lad fer a while." Then he also departed, leaving the three men alone once more.
"Falco was a good friend," Tarsus said quietly.
"He was indeed," added Dorad. "He'll be sorely missed."
"Aye," agreed the Amarian. "To Falco," he said raising his jug in toast. Dorad raised his own mug.
Jack tried his best to follow the conversation as he ate, but the food was very distracting. It was a veritable feast compared to what he had been living on for the last few days. He hadn’t had a decent meal other than cold MREs since Molly had cooked him breakfast, four, five days ago now? He couldn’t remember bread so light, or wine so refreshing. He savored each delicious morsel, drowning in ecstasy with each swallow of the rich, red wine. When he had eaten his fill, he waite
d until Tarsus and Dorad had also finished before asking, "So…where are we going?"
He knew the two men had no idea what he was talking about, but he asked anyway just to hear the question. Thinking how to frame his question with his limited grasp of their language, he pointed out the port window of the chamber. “Ailsantain du faelam.” he said and waved goodbye. “I got that. Nothing there but…Caedam…Morde. Where are we…” he pointed to himself, then the pair of them, “going?”
“Brimcohn,” Tarsus said. “Eventually.”
“Brimcohn,” Dorad nodded. “Tarsus Aernin. Dorad Ellgereth. Chaidaem caeraid, Jack Braydaon.”
“Brimcohn?” asked Jack.
“Brimcohn,” Dorad nodded again. “Why are we going to Brimcohn, Tarsus?” he asked the Amarian.
"We lost almost twenty men in that damned forest,” Tarsus replied. “We need to return and recruit more lads. And I need you, to try and explain to our new friend, that he’s joining the Seawolf as my Master of Arms and Second Mate."
“That will mean a fight,” Dorad said thoughtfully. “Danos most likely.”
“Most likely,” Tarsus nodded.
“So, let me see if I understand you? You want me to try and explain the rules of the Brother-hood?” Dorad asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm, “To a man who only knows how to say bread and fire and sword? Just how am I supposed to do that? Pantomime somehow that he’s going to have to fight a duel?”
