The Darkness at the Edge of Noon: a Thalassia novel

by Patrick McClafferty

  “And Selene is?”

  “I saw Selene this afternoon. She had to convince Chief Beinir of a few things. After she was done with him she turned her attention to me.” He chuckled dryly. “She can be very persuasive.”

  “Did she...”

  “No, no. Not anything like that. She kissed me on the cheek. That’s all.” Logan took a long pull at his suddenly full mug of mead. “That’s enough.” He missed the look of aggravation that flashed across Maeve’s face. “What the frozen hells do I do?”

  She smiled and touched his hand. “Follow your heart, Logan.”

  He returned the smile. “That sounds like the best course of action. I just wish...” He paused and looked away.

  “Wish what, Logan?” Her voice was a bare whisper.

  “I wish that I could have told Rhiannon that I...”

  A fur clad runner chose that moment to come banging into the drinking hall, his eyes big, and headed for the slumping Chief Beinir. Shaking finally roused the drunken Chief, and he whispered hurriedly into his ear.

  “What!” Beinir jumped to his feet, his bloodshot eyes searching out Logan. “You were right. SUMMON THE ENGINEERS!” His shouts rousted the rest of the drunken men to their unsteady feet.

  Logan went to stand but Maeve held him back. She was stronger than she looked. “Tell Rhiannon what, Logan?” Her voice was insistent. The air was filled with the shouting of drunken men.

  “Tell her that I love her.” Logan’s smile was crooked. “But I guess it’s too late now.”

  She let go of his arm, a little look of triumph on her face. “It’s never too late, Logan MacKennit.”

  He stood and a press of yelling, pushing men swept him away. Maeve sat on the couch, smiling.

  They had found three other tunnels, just as Jade had predicted, bored through the solid Thalassian granite. One was blocked by a collapse fifty feet in, stone and rock plugging the tunnel tight. The other, angling sharply downward, was filled with water. Logan held the torch up as he led his small band of nervous men into the third damp passage.

  The slippery floored tunnel continued its slow downward slant, and the men, crouching occasionally beneath low dripping stalactites, continued their silent journey. The air smelled of mold and fear.

  A short stocky man, dressed in crude furs like all the rest touched his arm. “An who was it, Mister Logan, who told you about these tunnels?”

  Logan stared into the dark tunnel. “Some wise people where I come from gave me a few hints, and I made a lucky guess.”

  The fur covered man chuckled dryly. “Chief Beinir don’t take much to guessers. It was a wrong guess that cost him his son’s life.”

  “I didn’t know that.” Logan glanced at the man walking at his side. “Your name is Jarl, isn’t it?”

  “Aye, sir, it is.” He smiled, showing his missing teeth. “I’m the Chief’s head engineer.” He scratched his thick mop of brown hair. “Funny that we never found these tunnels before.”

  It was Logan’s turn to chuckle quietly. “Well, they were pretty well hidden, especially the one in the Chief’s own bedroom.”

  “Aye.” Jarl was laughing. “It’ll be a long day before Beinir lives THAT one down.”

  Jade’s thought interrupted Logan’s conversation with the engineer. Logan put down his torch and stopped the small column.

 

 

 

  He turned to Jarl. “There are monsters ahead, Jarl. Pass the word to send up that keg of naphtha and send a runner back to tell the engineers to get ready to bring the tunnel down as soon as we arrive.”

  “How did you...” Jarl sounded confused.

  “I’m just a good guesser, now get the naphtha, or should we wait to invite the monsters to our little cook out?”

  “I’ll get it right away.” He left at a run.

 

  He sighed.

  Jade whispered in a shocked voice.

  Jade was silent for a long while.

 

 

  A puffing Jarl came up, carrying a modest wooden keg. Logan guessed it might contain five gallons of liquid. Laying the barrel down on its side, Logan wedged out the bung with his boot knife, inserted a tightly wound rag and picked up the sputtering torch.

  “You had better get your people out of here, Jarl. All hell’s going to break loose when I kick this barrel down the tunnel.”

  Jarl gave him a long look, then gripped his shoulder. Without a word he turned and was gone. Logan counted to thirty before he lit the naphtha-soaked rag, kicking the keg down the sloping tunnel. He had covered forty yards when the force of the blast picked him up, ungently tossing him the rest of the way. He felt hands pick him up, dragging him to safety while behind him the tunnel collapsed with a dull ground shaking roar.

  “Don’t worry about him.” A voice was saying over his head. “He’ll be just fine. He’s just battered a little. I’ve seen worse.”

  “Are you sure?” There was worry in the second voice. “There was so much blood.”

  “Just abrasions. He bounced off a few walls on his way up the tunnel. Luckily the walls were fairly smooth, otherwise the abrasions would have been broken bones.”

  He opened an eye. Aileen stood on one side of him, Maeve on the other. Neither one was a surprise.

  Aileen looked down at her patient and smiled. “Good morning, sunshine. How do you feel?”

  Logan tried to sit up, groaned and lay back down. “Like shit. Thank you for asking.”

  The medic put her arm behind his back to help him up into a sitting position. “You should take it easy for a few more days. You’re a bit battered.”

  “Few more?” Logan frowned. “How many days have I been out?”

  “Three days, more or less. Chief Beinir said that he wanted to talk with you as soon as you woke up. He might even be sober enough to be coherent by now. They were celebrating pretty hard without you.”

  “It figures.” Logan groaned. “Could I get something to eat? I’m starved.”

  Aileen looked down at his bony frame. “I’d say that you’ve missed a few meals, Logan. I’ll get the kitchen to send something up. Eat it all, do you hear me?” Her face was serious.

  “Yes, mother.” Logan grinned.

  “I’m serious, Logan. You need to eat. I’ll not have a patient of mine starve to death through sheer stupidity.”

  Maeve touched the woman’s arm. “I’ll make sure that he eats, Aileen.”

  The medic glanced from woman to patient and back. “Just make sure that he does, Maeve. I have other patients to tend.” She turned and stormed out of the small infirmary, slamming the door behind her.

  “She cares about you, and you scared her.” The newest squad member told him in a soft voice.

  “Well, I didn’t do it on purpose.” He frowned. “How do things stand now?”

  Maeve sighed. “Things are back to normal. When you blocked the tunnel the monsters tried to attack the castle. After Beinir cooked them with naphtha and shot them full of arrows
, they withdrew. Bel and Tiana led a reconnaissance patrol yesterday, returning in a few hours to tell us that there is nothing around for five miles in any direction. The monsters have finally withdrawn.”

  “For now.”

  “For now.” She agreed.

  There was a soft knock on the door. Two fur clad men entered, the first carrying a hugely loaded tray while the second came in with a pitcher of mead and two tankards. They both gave Logan wide grins and bowed deeply before they left.

  “What was that all about?”

  After passing the hot rolls and butter, Maeve removed the top of the tray revealing steaming chops soaked in gravy, potatoes, and fresh vegetables that Logan had never even seen before. It was enough to feed three men. She poured two tankards of mead and took a small sip from one.

  “Chief Beinir,” Maeve began, buttering a roll, “has been extravagant with his praise.” She handed it to Logan and glared at him until he ate it. “He said that you, singlehandedly saved the city from a sneak monster attack and that they all owe you their lives.” She cut off a thick piece of well cooked meat and handed it to him. “Everyone has you on the top of their hero list right about now.”

  Logan frowned, chewing slowly. “He wants something.” Taking a long swallow of mead, he sighed contentedly.

  The door to the room banged open noisily, as Chief Beinir strode in, beard bristling.

  “Ahhh, good to see you’re awake.” His eyes lit when he saw the tray of food. “Well, now. What do we have here?” His hand froze halfway to the tray when a steel knife blade came to rest flat against the back of his wrist.

  “The food is Logan’s, Chief Beinir. He needs it. You don’t.” Maeve’s voice was as cold as the blade of her knife, and just as sharp.

  Beinir turned pale and slowly withdrew his hand. “Who let this she-wolf in here?”

  “I invited her.” Logan replied, giving the woman a quick wink of thanks.

  “Hummph.” The fur clad man scowled. “How soon will you be out of bed?”

  Logan gave Maeve a look that said “I told you so.” “Tomorrow, probably.” Maeve growled.

  “Good. We need to go to Kolding and Falun as soon as possible to warn them about the monsters, and the threat that their ability to use these new tactics and weapons represents.”

  “We?” Logan looked at the man curiously.

  “We, boy.” Beinir looked a little embarrassed. “Some people have mentioned that I’m not doing anything for our people except sitting back and letting you do all the work. Some people have even mentioned making you Chief.” He chuckled with a deep rumbling sound. “We can’t have that, can we? So I’ll be going with you.”

  Logan was too tired to argue. “If you come you will just be a passenger, Chief. It’s my boat, my crew and we’ll follow my orders.”

  “But I’m the Chief!” The big man blustered.

  “Not on my boat. You’re just supercargo.”

  “But... but...”

  “And while we’re on the subject.” Logan sat up straight. “Since we’ll be leaving your quaint city soon, I would like to be paid for the iron before we leave. I accept gold or precious stones. Cash. No promissory notes.”

  “You wouldn’t trust me?” Beinir had a pained note in his voice.

  “I trust in the Goddess, all others must pay cash.”

  “Mercenary.” Chief Beinir growled.

  “And make sure that we have plenty of supplies aboard, Chief. It could be a long voyage.”

  The door shook the room as Beinir slammed out.

  “That went well.” Maeve was stifling her laughter.

  ~~~

  The sapphire blue sea slid by in a quiet hiss, as the Lainie Mairi turned slightly to keep land just a thin ribbon on the horizon. Like Gjøvik, Kolding was a coastal city, built at the mouth of a wide river. Unlike Gjøvik, Kolding sat on a delta island, accessible to the mainland only by drawbridge or boat. The wide fertile delta area around the castle was prime crop land, and fruits and vegetables from Kolder were widely sought.

  After two weeks at sea, it was the thin pencil of smoke that finally caught their attention. Logan didn’t even have to ask. After one look at Beinir’s horrified face he knew what he was seeing.

  Walking to the other side of the bow, he motioned to Padraig. “Have the Marines get ready, Padraig. That’s Kolding out there, and I don’t know what we’ll find.” The man looked out across the water at the plume of smoke, then turned back to Logan and nodded briefly.

  Word was starting to spread around the small ship, and quiet preparation was being made. The plume of smoke grew wider as they approached, until finally there could be no doubt of the origin.

  “Capin.” Tanden Barr was standing at the tiller, shading his eyes in the brilliant sun. “Capin, I think there’s a small boat in the water. Bout a mile er so ahead. Low in the water she be. Refugees, maybe?”

  Logan shaded his eyes. The glitter of the sun off the Thalasian rings and the water turned the sea into a sparkling mass of light. “No, I don’t... wait a minute. There it is! I see it now.”

  “There are ten people in that small fishing dory, Logan. Two women, eight children.>

  He cursed silently as he put his hand to his medallion.

  < Yes, dear one.> The voice echoed in the depths of his mind.

 

 

 

  < We’ll be ready for them, Logan.>

  He held his hand on the medallion.

  The voice seemed to have a subtle laugh tucked away behind it, and it made Logan wonder. He removed his hand from the medallion and turned away.

  The small yellow dory, rowed by the two women, was packed with soot stained, wild-eyed silent children. Water sloshed in the bottom up to their ankles.

  “Get me into that boat!” Logan grabbed a rope dangling from the mast and stepped up on the railing.

  “What do you plan on doin, Logan?” The First Mate sounded angry. “The little boat be a bit overcrowded.”

  He could picture the upcoming surprise on the big man’s face. “I’m going to take them to safety.”

  “But...”

  The boat bumped gently against the hull of the Lainie Mairi, and Logan stepped off the railing, sliding down the rope. His feet landed in cold water.

  A hazel eyed woman with long auburn hair looked at him with wide eyes. “We thought we were all dead. We thought...”

  Logan held up a hand to silence the woman, and ten heads swiveled his way. “Get ready for a pleasant surprise.” His hand touched the medallion on his chest. “We’re ready here, Rhiannon.”

  Water sloshed over the sides of the small boat, and many hands reached in to remove the passengers. Logan smiled. “All ashore that’s going ashore!” He lifted a small wet boy off his seat and handed him to a waiting woman. He remembered her face, if not her name. She was the widow of one of the soldiers killed in the battle at Stirling.

  “Ohhh, me poor little darling.” She held the boy tightly to her breast, stroking his filthy hair.

  A hand touched his shoulder and Logan turned to look into the hazel eyes of the woman from the boat. “Is it such a good idea for her to carry on so? When the boy is returned to his mother...”

  “He won’t be going back to his mother.” Disbelief showed in the hazel eyes. “From what we could see, all of Kolding is aflame. Your little boat was the only one to escape.”

  “Maybe they got away to the shore, maybe...”

  “We’ll get as close as we can. We can’t endanger our mission for wishful thinking.”

  “My husband, my brothers...” She began to wail, a thin keening sound.
<
br />   “Rhiannon!” Logan called out, looking around. “I could use your help.”

  The white robed, red haired goddess brushed by him, wrapping her arms about the weeping woman. She gave him a long level look. It wasn’t Rhiannon, again. He reached out and touched her arm.

  “Thank you.” He kissed her cheek, as a brother would kiss a sister, and her eyes widened slightly. “I have to go.” His hand touched his medallion, as he formed the picture of the bow of the ship in his mind.

  Heads were still craned over the side railing of the boat, staring at the spot the dory had been.

  “Have a good trip?” Logan started and turned to stare at Aileen.

  “I had to tell them that there wouldn’t be any going home for them. It wasn’t fun.” Heads were beginning to turn their way.

  “Selene wasn’t too happy with you.”

  “She’ll get over it.” He saw Barr striding over to them, his face like thunder.

  “Where the hells did ye go to with the boat?” His voice was a growl.

  “I took the boat and its occupants to safety, just like I said. Do you have a problem with that?”

  The First Mate began to clench his ham sized fists.

  Jade’s voice whispered.

  Logan reached out one finger and touched Barr’s chest. The man froze, eyes bulging.

  “As you can see, Mister Barr, I can do a few things that you cannot.” He patted the big man’s cheek. “Why don’t we just leave it with that, all right? Oh, I forgot! Blink your eyes twice if you agree.” The eyes blinked twice. “Very good. You drive the boat and I’ll give the orders and take care of the magical stuff. Agree?” Blink. Blink. Logan reached out and touched the man’s chest, and stepped back.

  Tanden Barr took a deep breath. “I thought thems were all stories, about you working fer some goddess.” He rubbed his jaw. “Guess I was some wrong.” He turned back to the wheel. “Where to now, Captain?”

  “Bring us in close to Kolding. I want to make sure that there are no survivors. Then we head to Falun.”

  “Aye, sir.”