The Naming

by Torsten Weitze

  The apprentice nodded again, blindsided by the speed of events. Obviously, the others had drawn up their battle plan already and his role had been decided on. The captain gave him another encouraging smile and then hurried away and proceeded to shout at a sailor who hadn’t tied one of the defensive spears properly.

  Ahren collected all his arrows from his cabin and brought them up to the crow’s nest. The sun was a narrow streak on the horizon and shone golden on the water, now smooth as glass. There was a gentle wind and The Queen of the Waves was making good progress. The young man fixed his arrows firmly in the meshes of the basket, then climbed down to collect his bow and to consult again with his travelling companions.

  Falk was standing with Khara on the afterdeck and seemed to be trying to instruct her, haltingly, in her own language. He saw Ahren and gestured at him to come over.

  ‘Gods, this is hard. I urgently need to brush up on my knowledge of the empire’s language’, he grumbled. ‘Good that you’re here. Has anyone told you what your role is?’

  Ahren nodded and pointed up to the crow’s nest.

  ‘I’m supposed to use my bow from up there’, he said with as much self-confidence in his voice as he could muster.

  If his master had heard the silent doubts he still had, he didn’t acknowledge it.

  ‘Khara is going to guard Uldini and Jelninolan. Both of them are lying in a sleep trance and are not to be woken up unless it’s the end of the world. I’m going to put on my armour soon and help on deck, where I’ll be needed. Ahren, keep your eyes peeled for any movement at all, no matter how small, outside the railings, alright? We have to be very careful with fire on a wooden ship so there will only be a few lanterns and visibility will be poor. The sailors have orders to call out your title three times if they run into difficulties. So, if you’re aiming into a melee, only shoot at the figures that aren’t shouting “squire”’

  Falk was already walking to the steps and glanced back. ‘Any questions?’ he called over his shoulder and paused.

  Ahren shook his head timidly.

  ‘Courage, son. Imagine it as a trap we’ve set for Dark Ones. As if you were lying in wait on a hunt. Except that this is happening on the water. And we’re being attacked by intelligent and co-ordinated enemies. And we’ve no escape route.’

  He shrugged his shoulders, then descended the ladder and his last words were blown upward by the wind.

  ‘You know what? Forget the comparison.’

  ‘That was a great help’, mumbled Ahren. Khara looked at him questioningly but he gave her a dismissive wave. For a moment he wondered if he should put on his ribbon armour, then decided against it. If somebody managed to get past the sailors and climb all the way up the mast to his basket, then he would have more serious problems to be thinking about than not having armour on. And anyway, Jelninolan was sleeping and he didn’t want to risk getting tangled up in his armour on the swaying ship, because he would be putting it on himself. He suddenly had an image of the helpless Jelninolan, as she had lain on the boarding-room floor that time, and in spite of the situation now, he couldn’t suppress a smile. Then he climbed up into position and the smile disappeared, along with the last rays of sun, which were swallowed by the sea.

  Waiting for the battle to start was the worst thing. Or so Ahren had heard old soldiers say, and he was inclined to agree with them. The tension that he had been feeling throughout his body since he’d positioned himself in the crow’s nest, with his eyes constantly peering down into the darkness, had turned into pure torture within a short time. A third of the night had passed and Ahren now found himself beginning to get bored. It seemed he was only capable of remaining tensely nervous for a certain period before his reason began to accustom itself to the circumstances around him. The hope that there might be no battle at all slowly began to overcome his anxiety. To counteract his boredom, Ahren was counting the struts on the railings in the dim light of the lantern when he suddenly saw out of the corner of his eye faint movements in the darkness. His pulse started racing. White figures were slipping gracefully between the spears and jumping onto the deck in total silence.

  He and two sailors simultaneously screamed out a warning and he let fly an arrow at the nearest attacker. The spectres seemed to be unarmed and Ahren hesitated for a moment with his second arrow. But then Ahren understood in horror the tactics of the Lost Tribe. They were carrying slim, narrow objects around their wrists, which they threw over the sailors’ heads from behind while they were distracted by other attackers. The unfortunate sailors dropped their weapons and grasped their necks as they gasped for breath. Ahren understood what was happening below when he saw the first of the sailors who had been attacked in this way, jumping head over heels into the water.

  The Lost Ones had necklaces with them, which they put around the crew members, so that they would join them in their cursed existence. The horror he was witnessing was made even worse by the fact that there was complete silence as they performed their dastardly acts.

  ‘Watch out for the necklaces! They’re attacking you from behind!’ he screamed at the top of his lungs, shooting off arrows at lightning speed at any attackers who still carried the necklaces in their right hands.

  Ten heartbeats after the first of them had boarded the ship, the Lost Ones turned around at speed and dived elegantly back into the dark water where they disappeared without a trace. The next were already lifting their heads above the water and were preparing for the second attack. After missing two of the swimmers, Ahren gave up trying to hit them in the water. The lack of light, the movement of the ship, and the small size of his targets made a sure hit impossible and he would only be wasting his arrows.

  Meanwhile, there were shouts on the deck as the mariners called out the names of their brothers- and sisters-in-arms, checking who was still on board and who had followed the Lost Ones down to their watery prison. They had already lost five of their thirty crew members and the attack was far from over.

  Even from where he was, Ahren could make out the fear on their faces. An enemy that wanted to kill you was bad enough, but one that had the capability of changing you into a creature of the Lost Tribe and to condemn your existence to a life on the dark ocean floor was too much for even the most hardened veteran to bear.

  The captain hurried through his ranks, giving courage or comfort where needed, and Falk re-organised their defence.

  ‘Nobody is alone from now on!’ he roared. ‘From this point you’re always in twos, back to back!’

  The mariners nodded and gradually came to terms with the shock of the first attack, while at the same time dividing themselves into pairs so that they could each cover the other’s back. Ahren prepared his bow without tautening it, and anxiously counted the attackers as they bobbed up and down in the water, surrounding and circling the ship on her course through the night.

  ‘They’re gathering!’ shouted Ahren down to the deck below. ‘There are at least forty and they’re circling the ship!’

  Falk raised his hand briefly to show that he’d understood. None of the sailors dared to speak, and so the ship sailed silently through the night. Only the rhythmical slapping of the waves against the boat could be heard as everyone waited for the next inevitable attack.

  It happened a hundred heartbeats later, but this time the crew were better prepared. Hardly had Ahren seen a movement on the side of the ship when he let fly an arrow and he screamed down a warning. Any reservations he had had about killing vanished when he contemplated the murderous tactics of the Lost Tribe. He let arrow after arrow fly from his bow, and the ship’s crew carried out their actions with military precision as the Lost Ones swung themselves onto the deck.

  If the sailors didn’t succeed in mortally wounding the sea creatures, they swiped their short swords towards the right arms of the attackers, which held the insidious necklaces. At the same time, they provided cover for the person behind them. Ahren could only admire the interactions in each pair, and their co-ordin
ated defence seemed to have flummoxed their opponents. Their attack was fruitless and so the Lost Ones abandoned the sailors and jumped silently back into the sea.

  This time nobody had lost their lives to the cursed necklaces, but instead there were over twenty Lost Ones lying motionless on the deck. Shouts of jubilation filled the night sky as the sailors yelled in celebration of their victory. Ahren’s heart beat faster with joy and he joined in the cheering while still keeping an eye on the attackers, who had gathered around the ship but this time at a greater distance away. Even Falk seemed happy at the outcome of the skirmish, and Ahren gave him a broad grin from up high.

  Falk looked up and saw Ahren’s head leaning over the side of the crow’s nest and peering down.

  ‘Keep your eyes fixed on the water!’ he ordered. ‘We need you to warn us if they attack!’

  Ahren nodded and stood up straight again. The clouds in the sky had broken up and now the moon was casting a dim light, not enough for Ahren to make out things in detail but allowing him to better identify movements in the water.

  After some time Ahren noticed, much to his consternation, that more and more spectres were swimming along under the water and joining the waiting attackers, and he could also make out strange misshapen shadows that the sea creatures were pulling behind them.

  ‘They’re changing their tactics’, Ahren shouted down in a worried voice. He was unable to make out what the outlines were. ‘They’re bringing something with them, but I can’t make out what!’

  ‘They’ve probably realised that they need to try a different approach. They wanted new recruits earlier, but now they’re probably thinking in terms of killing’, prophesied Falk darkly.

  Ahren suddenly had an idea that he wanted to share immediately.

  ‘If the unexpected puts them off their stride, then we should bring Culhen on deck. I bet you a wolf on the high seas will really irritate them!’ he shouted down, keeping his eyes fixed on the water. The sea creatures seemed to be assembling in some sort of formation and Ahren was certain that they only had a few heartbeats before the next wave of attack would be upon them.

  ‘Hang on a minute, so that’s a wolf and not a wolfhound?’ asked the captain with concern. Ahren flinched. Culhen was still in disguise – and it had completely slipped his mind.

  ‘Long story’, said his master, sweeping aside the sailor’s question. ‘The animal is trained and can be of assistance to us. That’s the only thing that matters. My apprentice has a good idea there, even if he is a little cheeky.’ The last words were spoken with a little bite and Ahren was sure that the old Forest Guardian wouldn’t forget Ahren’s slip-up for some time.

  Falk ran beneath deck as he spoke, and a couple of heartbeats later Culhen was scurrying around the main deck, sniffing curiously at the bodies. The wolf sneezed and then snarled quietly. Ahren chuckled until he saw the front line of attackers darting for the ship at top speed.

  ‘They’re back!’ he screamed at the top of his lungs, and a wave of tension rolled through the assembled sailors, while Culhen crouched instinctively, preparing to spring forward. Ahren felt uneasy at the fact that he’d involved his friend in the conflict, but if Culhen could give them an advantage and thereby save lives, then it was a risk the young man had to take.

  The sea creatures clambered on board and Ahren could make out at last what they were holding in their hands: strange, wavy spears with lines of algae attached to their ends. He saw the harpoons boring through sailors, and the sea creatures jumping overboard and pulling at the algae-string, yanking the wounded over the railings and into the sea. Their victims were screaming and trying to cling onto the slippery deck, and Ahren concentrated his arrows on the Lost Ones who hadn’t yet thrown their spears, while Culhen jumped up at the attackers as if possessed, biting in all directions.

  Ahren’s blood boiled when he saw a trio of Lost Ones slipping unnoticed through the melee and heading towards the lower deck. The thought of one of those cursed necklaces being put around Jelninolan’s or Khara’s neck filled him with rage, and with an inarticulate scream he riddled them with arrows before they could reach the hatch. From then on, he shot at any sea creature that came within ten paces of the opening while the fight raged on. Finally, Culhen, who had just wildly bitten and defeated yet another Lost One, let out a blood-curdling howl. Its companions covered their ears in shock before leaping overboard in fear. It seemed that the alien noise had been so painful for them that they had abandoned the fight immediately and run helter-skelter for the sides of the ship in an effort to escape. The sailors quickly cut the algae ropes of the harpoons and pulled their injured fellow crew members into the middle of the ship.

  Ahren saw how all the shapes dived below the surface, and a few seconds later the ocean was calmly reflecting the moonlight, which was dancing over the wavelets.

  ‘They’re all gone!’ shouted Ahren with relief.

  The battle seemed to be finally over. Culhen was celebrated like a hero, and even from the crow’s nest Ahren could see how the vain animal was lapping up all the demonstrations of affection.

  The crew busied itself with treating wounds and started singing quietly. Their harmonies echoed through the sea and the sails, while Ahren remained at his post, watching the water around them.

  The sailors were about to throw the bodies of their fallen companions overboard when Falk gave a shout of alarm.

  ‘Take off their necklaces first, or they can be used again’, he ordered.

  But for all their pulling and tugging they were unable to get the tightly bound shackles off them until one of the mariners took on the terrible task of cutting the necklaces from their victims’ flesh. Once the necklaces had been separated from the bodies through brute force, they immediately decomposed into mouldy strings of algae. Falk didn’t want to take any risks, and instead of throwing the remains of the necklaces overboard, the green matter was burned in one of the oil lanterns. Stinking fumes rose up from the charred algae and some of the crew were convinced that they heard distant cries of relief among the crackling of the flames.

  The night passed by and everything was quiet. Every now and then Ahren would cast a curious eye on the corpse of one of the Lost Ones, which Falk was examining thoroughly by the light of one of the lanterns.

  The corpse was male, his only clothing consisted of mouldy rags, tied loosely around his hips. Ahren could see, even from the crow’s nest, that his eyes were unnaturally big, with enormous pupils and without any lids. He had a flat nose with strange slits at the side and a small mouth without lips. His arms and legs were muscular out of all proportion, and the same with his chest. The apprentice found it hard to imagine that this creature was once a human, before he had been condemned to live the rest of its days travelling in the depths of the ocean.

  ‘It seems they only have gills’, he heard Falk say. ‘Which is why their individual attacks were so short. They had to get back under the water to get more air.’

  Ahren shivered and a feeling of pity overcame him, now that the immediate danger was over. These poor souls were condemned to a miserable existence in terrible slavery, and Ahren’s determination to put an end once and for all to the dark god grew. He grimly continued his watch from up high but no Lost One broke through the surface of the water.

  When dawn finally broke on the exhausted defenders of the ship, there was another cry of celebration on deck. Ahren looked down and saw a throng of exuberant crew members surrounding Culhen and stroking and tickling him. The wolf was sitting on his hind legs with his tongue lolling, enjoying to the full his new role as ship’s mascot.

  At noon the captain announced that they were approaching the safe coastline and there was no fear of another night attack. Uldini and Jelninolan were still sleeping and Ahren decided that at last he could do the same. His legs stiff, he clambered out of the crow’s nest and was relieved by a sailor who greeted him with a broad smile. His unerring marksmanship, not to mention Culhen’s surprising effect on the Lost O
nes ensured that Ahren would be greeted with open, welcoming arms by everyone. It was only Falk who gave him a more critical look, but if he had greeted him in any other way, the young man would have been seriously worried.

  While Ahren was doing some stretching exercises to get the stiffness out of his legs, the broad-shouldered Paladin, still in his white armour, came up beside him and looked out onto the waves, whose white crests were doing a wild dance in the fresh winds.

  ‘That was good work you did last night. Have a rest now and I will keep watch for a while. Not that I don’t trust our captain’s judgement, but better safe than sorry.’

  The grey-haired man looked over at Culhen, who was lying on his back and enjoying being tickled on his stomach by two sailors.

  ‘Anyway, we also have our fearless hero who can save us all’, he added with a chuckle.

  Ahren smiled too before rolling his eyes in mockery.

  ‘Culhen will be unbearable for the next few weeks if they keep spoiling him like that.’ Then he gave an exhausted wave to his master and disappeared into the cabin. He fell asleep immediately and slept calmly and without dreams, his right hand buried in the fur of the wolf, who had settled down beside his friend.

  Chapter 14

  37 days to the winter solstice

  The rest of the voyage passed very agreeably.

  Jelninolan and Uldini were still in a trance, and it dawned on Ahren how much effort it must have cost them to shield the ship from the mighty storm. He couldn’t bear to imagine what might have happened without their help if the ship had encountered even a milder variation of the hurricane. Suddenly, he saw in his mind’s eye an enormous wave smashing the ship to pieces and he had to force his mind to think of something else.

  Such as, for example, the happenings of the morning. Ahren had woken up early and he had had an urgent need to do something active. The others were still asleep and so he had gone on deck and decided to climb up the rigging without using his legs.