Raven's Quest

by Karen Hayes-Baker

  “As a half starved dog Mr Oyama,” Thom replied grinning and rubbing his belly. “Your friend looks a little sea sick,” he observed.

  “Yes. Taku not used to sea travel as I am not, but I find experience exhilarating Kapitan. Please you call me Karasu as I requested earlier,” the young man replied his face alight with enjoyment. “Maybe I take more voyages like this in future. I understand why you spend life at sea.”

  “Ha! We spend our lives at sea Sir because we have no home on land, well save a rock in the middle of the Great Ocean. But, I will admit, I would have it no other way excepting there are times….” Thom broke off and stared away into the distance.

  “Times?” Karasu prompted after a moment.

  “Uh? Yes. There are times when I would wish for more than this. A family, a wife,” the Kapitan looked to his feet and laughed wondering why he had divulged such a desire to a stranger.

  “You cannot have this also?”

  “Perhaps. Yes, I could. Others do. That is how most of us came to live this life. Our fathers and mothers followed the same path as we do. That is why we took over the island, to give our children some place to be born and to grow. Tis no easy life aboard a ship and tis hard on women who give birth there, but it happens more often than not. I was born at sea, though I spent my first two years on the Rock. My mother has had a hard life Karasu. I would not wish that upon any wife of mine. I will not marry. Hell, why would I want to be tied to one woman anyway,” Thom laughed unconvincingly.

  “You still very young Kapitan. I am sure you change your mind,” Karasu stated wisely and held his host’s stare.

  Devlin found the comment oddly unnerving. The ronin was younger than he by a good four or five years yet he spoke like his father. After a few seconds he laughed again. “You sound like an old man Karasu,” he said and slapped the priest upon the back. Karasu nodded and shared the joke.

  “My brother always said so when we were boys. He about your age and he say I sounded like our father. I afraid I was serious one. But, that aside, I think you would make good husband to right woman if you bothered to clean yourself,” he teased hinting at Thom’s still dishevelled appearance.

  “One thing has been puzzling me Karasu,” Thom changed the subject suddenly, a frown furrowing his brow. “Why did Kurohoshi not kill me? Why did he offer me and my crew a way out? It does not make sense.”

  Karasu considered the pirate or some moments. “I think it simply because he has power to do so and want you to realise that,” he said finally. Thom nodded, agreeing although not totally convinced, but not able to come up with a better reason.

  Suddenly, agonising pain shot through Karasu’s skull. Pain born of abject terror. He staggered, his hand flying to his head and he groped the other forward searching for something to grab hold of. Thom caught his arm and held him fast calling out to the ronin’s companion who still clutched the rails as though he feared he would fall overboard. Taku came flying to assist and immediately took hold of Karasu’s arm, pushing Thom away.

  “Hey! What the…,” Devlin made to protest but the agonised cry of the young man stopped him from saying more.

  “Shukke what is it? Has he harmed you?” Taku questioned in his own tongue casting suspicious glances at the pirate. With a great effort Karasu shook his head, grasping the warrior’s shoulder and sinking to the deck slowly. Taku helped him to sit and then spat some angry words at the Kapitan. Devlin held his arms out from his body in supplication.

  “Hey, I never touched him,” Thom protested not comprehending the angry words being directed at him and knowing that he too was not understood.

  Karasu tugged the hem of Taku’s Haori coat and shook his head once more; though his face remained pained he seemed to have gained some of his composure.

  “It is my sister,” he managed to say and fought with a new wave of fear and agony. He understood something terrible had happened and that the pain in his head was caused by the subconscious cry of terror emanating from Mizuki. He shuddered under the force of it and tried to find her. He needed her to stop this relentless screaming or the agony of it would make him faint. He needed to find the cause of it also as his immediate thoughts were of Hayato.

  Thom and Taku gazed helplessly at the young priest as he knelt upon the deck clutching his head and whimpering. It was like watching a child lament over a lost mother. Very slowly Karasu stopped shivering and his crying ceased, but still he sat and rocked his body to and fro as he soothed his aching brain and searched for Mizuki. She had relented the terrified screaming, it was replaced instead by overwhelming grief and he feared his worst nightmare had come true. Frantically he called to her and finally she was with him. Their thoughts mingled and he learned that the maid had been murdered. He slumped forwards onto his hands with relief and for some minutes his spirit strove to comfort the sorrow its kindred soul suffered.

  Several members of the crew had rushed onto the poop deck alarmed at the commotion and more so at Taku’s accusatory push of their Kapitan. At first they had appeared ready for action, but Thom’s hands held aloft and the moaning of the ronin had deflated their desire for action and held them in rapt fascination, unsure of what they saw.

  “Is he possessed Kap’n,” the toothless sailor asked wide eyed with a mixture of superstition and curiosity.

  “No Georj. He is not possessed. He is Gifted though and I believe he has felt something dreadful. Come, let us get him below to my cabin. He looks exhausted.” Thom moved forward and made to help Karasu stand. Immediately Taku stepped into the way his hand flying to one of his swords. It was a bad move for the pirates standing behind Devlin each pulled a sword or knife from their belts.

  “Hold fast!” Thom cried. “Look, I was only going to take him below so that he may rest.”

  Somehow Karasu had become aware enough to realise the danger and he translated the Kapitan’s words. With a grunt Taku stood aside, but stooped to help the young man stand brushing off any attempt by Thom to help. He gestured rudely that the Kapitan should lead the way.

  “Kap’n?” Densall queried unsure.

  “Tis alright. Get everyone back to work and split the crew into watches. First watch until midnight Mr Densall. The others should get some rest and food. I will show our guests to my cabin and then I will join you for dinner. Let Mr Aledd know what has happened though,” he added the last in an undertone. Densall nodded and shouted the order. Thom turned back to the two Ashiman.

  “Karasu, please allow your friend to escort you to my cabin. You may rest there. If you will follow me.”

  The ronin mumbled the words to Taku and he was helped below deck. Thom watched the Samurai lift a fragile Karasu onto his bunk touched by the care the tough little man lavished upon his companion. He was no stranger to compassion, but this appeared more like reverence. He supposed because Karasu was a holy man.

  “I will send some food and drink in for you both. Get some rest Karasu and I will return later,” he said quietly and shut the door behind him as he left. To the man that had followed them from the poop deck he said, “Watch the door. Come and get me if either of them leave.”

  But neither did and it was early in the morning when Thom did in fact return having spent half of the night drinking wine and smoking weed with Aledd and Densall and the rest sleeping it off in a hammock next to his officers. He almost fell from his berth swearing loudly and then cursing the headache that accompanied his hangover. He staggered to the drinking water barrel and stuck his head in it holding his breath for half a minute while the tepid water revived his senses. Emerging with his hair sodden he caught his reflection and decided he looked like hell. He still sported the half grown beard from his captivity and resolved to get rid of it. Remembering Karasu’s comment he decided he might look more human again then, even if he did not feel it.

  Thirty minutes later and Kapitan Thom Devlin knocked on his own cabin door before entering. Sunlight streamed in through the port windows making him blink rapidly and his head ache
even more before his eyes focussed upon his guests.

  Taku stood from the seat he had evidently slept in and bowed low uttering some words that Thom thought sounded regretful.

  “Forget it man,” he waved the apology aside and, after noting that only one meal had been touched from the previous night, cast his eyes at his bunk. Karasu levered himself from it and also bowed. As he stood upright he smiled at the shaving nicks upon the Kapitan’s face and at the decidedly pallid complexion. Taku muttered that the man was hung-over with a harsh laugh and, smelling the alcohol upon Thom’s breath, Karasu nodded in agreement.

  “What did he say?” Thom asked puzzled.

  “That you had too much drink last night Kapitan,” Karasu replied and took a seat at the window. He looked out to sea.

  “Humpf. He ain’t kidding there. Someone is playing a drum inside my head,” Thom laughed. “Tell me though, are you better? You gave everyone a scare last night.”

  “Yes I am quite well, thank you. I sorry to have caused you so much trouble and loss of cabin. It most comfortable. You must have it back now,” Karasu replied turning back to the Kapitan.

  “No, consider it yours for the trip. We have a favourable wind and from what you have said we only have the half a day to sail.” Thom walked forward and pulling out the other chair sat opposite the ronin. He leant back and considered his guest for a moment.

  “Would it be rude of me to ask you what happened?”

  “No. I owe you explanation. I told you my sister and I Sennjo?”

  “You mean Gifted, yes.”

  “She experience something dreadful. Last night she project fear and grief she felt so powerfully that it caused me physical pain. I not believe she conscious of this, for some time until I could get through to her. It as if her soul in shock.”

  “You can share such emotions and pain? I have never heard of a Gift this strong. I thought it was only thoughts you could read, empathy that you feel,” Thom said astounded.

  “No much more. We share same spirit. Twin spirit. Though her half stronger than mine. We twins and when we grow together in womb her Kami and mine became joined souls,” Karasu explained and smiled when it was obvious he was not understood. “We are Sennjo Thom and Kami within us strong and as one being,” he added as if this explained everything.

  Devlin nodded none the wiser and turned the conversation to their plans. They talked for an hour and then the Kapitan rose to leave.

  “I think I understand, about your sister I mean. I had a twin. We were parted before our first birthday. I have never known him. Still, though I am not Gifted I often felt that a part of me died with him.

  “I will send you breakfast. I see you have touched none of the food I sent last night. Feel free to wander around the ship as you like. Your friend also,” he offered.

  “Thank you Thom-san,” Karasu returned with a bow of his head.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Kouhei was not certain whether the plan would work, but he had to try. The fear of reprisals being taken out on his family by Kapitan Devlin and his men was too great not to try. The old servant that worked in the castle was fond of saki. Kouhei knew this. He had witnessed the man drink himself stupid on several occasions when he had himself made his weekly visit to the bar with his good friend and neighbour Stefan.

  Stefan Marrel was a Westlander who had married an Ashiman girl and then moved from Kyo-To-Shi to make his home and living in Hana-Shi-Ku. He had hoped to become a translator, being an educated man and once a serving officer in the Vitric Empire’s Imperial Navy. However, he was marooned in a distant land and no doubt thought dead by all those who had known him before the fated voyage that had brought his ship to this island. Stefan suffered the suspicions of the native people and those in power would not tolerate a foreigner holding an office of responsibility. So he had made a living teaching mathematics and science in a local school at half the pay of an Ashiman teacher and had somehow managed to stay optimistically happy with his lot. He had a wife and two young girls and he did not wish for more, or at least that is what he told his dear friend Akika Kouhei.

  Kouhei had learned Westlandish from Stefan and knew himself to be greatly in his friend’s debt, for it should by rights, have been Stefan who was the Trade Office’s chief translator and not he. All things being equal. But all things were not and he owed his position to his foreign companion, with all its privileges. By way of thanks, he treated Stefan’s family in small ways. A gift of a good wine; something for the girls occasionally. He was careful not to offend, for the ex-officer was a proud man, but he knew his gifts were tolerated through friendship and an understanding that in some way they were payment for what should have been.

  After the visit from Furuki Jun, Kouhei had sought Stefan’s council, needing some guidance in matters he thought beyond him. He felt certain that espionage, or at least, intelligence gathering, to be very much outside of his own abilities. The mere thought of what he had been asked to do filled him with dread.

  In the quiet of his back yard, Stefan had listened to Kouhei’s tale with growing interest. He had, of course, heard of the foreigners in port and had wandered down to the harbour himself to catch a glimpse and perhaps exchange a word with his own kind. But on sight of the Brig he had known immediately what these visitors were and his old prejudices returned. Pirates! Scourge of the earth. He said as much to Kouhei when at last his little friend disclosed what he had been doing for the past few weeks. His conviction that the sailors on the Brig were nothing more than evil cutthroats was compounded when Kouhei told of Jun’s warning.

  “Murderous barbarians the lot of them Kouhei,” Stefan muttered over his beer. They were sharing homemade beer and speaking Westlandish at the translator’s request in case they were overheard. He had become paranoid after the General’s visit.

  “I thought not, but, perhaps you right. Kapitan Devlin seem quite gracious even if he mock our ways.”

  Stefan snorted. “Hell! Let me tell you about pirates Kouhei. They would take everything you own; the money from your purse, the clothes from your back, before flaying you alive and feeding you to the fishes. They would take your girls and defile them before selling them for a price in some iniquitous hell hole and your boy would be murdered or worse, taken into the clans. Never be fooled that they are honourable men. They do not understand the meaning of the word,” he spat with vehemence. Kouhei looked even more alarmed.

  “What am I to do? If I not help they may do these things to family,” he wailed.

  Stefan leant forward and patted his arm in a fatherly manner. “My dear Kouhei. I feel sorry for you. This is a nightmare from which the only escape is to help them and pray it is enough. I do not wish to worry you more, but these men have no scruples. They may change their mind and take revenge anyway even if you do help. You have no choice but to do as they ask. I will help you in any way I can.

  “One thing intrigues me though. This Furuki. Did you know him?”

  “No. I never see him before. He stranger to Hana-Shi-Ku. His accent like someone from south. Why you ask?” Kouhei returned.

  “Seems odd that’s all. An Ashiman helping foreign pirates,” Stefan shrugged. “Still we need to find a way to get the information they require. You remember the old servant who frequents the Cherry Tree? He might loosen his tongue when given enough to drink. I think it safer to try that method than come up with some reason for you to enter the castle yourself. Let us try tomorrow.”

  And so they had hatched a plan and determined to put it to the test on their weekly visit to the little inn called the Cherry Tree that sat inauspiciously under the looming north wall of the castle.

  Kouhei fidgeted nervously and wondered at Stefan’s calm. Then he supposed his friend had been trained to show no emotion or fear. He had been a Naval officer after all and was expected to be brave and fearless. As if he had read the translator’s mind Stefan smiled reassuringly.

  “Do not be so nervous Kouhei. By the time we have finished with hi
m, even if we do not get the information we want, he will be so drunk he will remember nothing. Look, there he is. Punctual as ever. Let him have a couple of sakis and then we will join him.”

  So they waited and watched until the old servant drained his second glass of rice spirit and stared longingly at the empty glass.

  “Now,” Stefan muttered rising suddenly from his seat and making Kouhei jump. The tall foreigner walked over to the alcoholic servant and sat opposite as if meeting an old friend and the little translator reluctantly followed. Sitting cross legged at the servant’s table Kouhei smiled awkwardly but said nothing. The old man looked suspicious at suddenly being joined by two strangers, especially the fair-haired foreigner, though his dim memory told him he had seen them here many times before.

  “You have an empty glass my friend. Allow me to fill it for you,” Stefan said loudly in his accented Ashiman and waved over the hostess. The servant smiled through gappy teeth, his suspicion evaporating with the prospect of more alcohol.

  “You are very kind Sir. Do I know you?” he replied with a bow of his head.

  “Not really, but I feel we are friends. After all we see each other regularly in this establishment. It is a favourite of yours?”

  “Aye, it is. But I cannot get here as often as I might. Rules have been tightened at the castle ever since the arrival of…,” the man stopped suddenly and glanced around anxiously.

  “The arrival of the Oyama heir and the Lord Presidor’s bride to be?” Stefan finished for him.

  The drinks arrived as the servant narrowed his eyes at his companions. “Here. How do you know about that?”

  “My dear…, I’m sorry, what is your name?” Stefan went on with supreme nonchalance that Kouhei could only marvel at.

  “Daisuke,” the servant uttered now greedily eyeing the fresh glass of saki that the foreigner held out to him.

  “Of course, Daisuke. And I’m sure you live up to your name and are a great help to your master. But in answer to your question, you forget that Lord Kurohoshi paraded the Oyama prisoner through the city when he returned from his glorious victory. As to the other, well rumours abound Sir, if you know what I mean. Not everyone is as diligent as yourself. Tongues wag.”