by JDL Rosell
The captain fumbled for his piston lamp, and Jeth smiled, forgetting how dull some people's senses were. He never forgot how dull it was to wait for them, though.
Jeth nudged the door closed with a toe, leaving them in what would be complete darkness for the captain. "How there!" the man exclaimed, sparks still striking on the lamp. "Open that door again, would you? I can't quite make out—"
Jeth swatted the lamp to the ground, catching it with a foot to prevent it from shattering—it wouldn't do to make noise—then he thrust his arm under the captain's fleshy neck and shoved him against the wall, while his other hand drew forth a knife and held it to his throat.
"En't no call for this," the captain wheezed. "Let's be civil, now."
"Pardon my earlier impressions for misleading you, Sunbeard," Jeth said lightly. "This is my civility. But if you make any further protests, you might see what happens when I'm not so polite.”
The seafarer, usually babbling more than a brook, finally shut up.
"Good. Now, you may notice a knife to your throat—I'll take that swallow for a yes. Well, captain, I won't cut your throat today, not if you act as you should."
The captain wheezed in and out like a bellows with a hole in it.
"How should you act? It's quite simple, though not for a man like you. See, you must never mention me again. Ever. And you must make your men do the same. Do we have an understanding? No, don't nod, you'll bleed yourself. Just blink once."
The blink came quickly.
"Now, threats are one thing when a man is here with a knife to your throat," Jeth continued. "It's quite another when he's gone ashore and the threat seems a bit duller. So I think this calls for a little reminder, don't you think? To take with you wherever you go.”
His knife was sharp, and as Jeth shifted his hold on the captain's neck to grip his yellow beard, it sawed cleanly through the hair. Jeth smiled to himself, while the captain began to whimper.
"I suppose I can't call you Sunbeard anymore, can I? Shame. I was growing rather fond of the moniker. Perhaps I could wear it?" Jeth held up the wiry blonde hairs to his chin, then sighed. It wasn't as delightful when the man couldn't see anything.
"I swear—" the captain started.
Jeth put a finger to the man’s lips, pressing his own shaven beard against his cheek. "No more of that. I know you'll do the right thing. Now, would you like to show your crew your new face, or shall I?"
As soon as Jeth opened the door and stepped away, the captain fled out of the room, and turned and pointed back at him as he stepped into the doorway himself. "Kill him!" the man said, jowls quivering with rage. No wonder the man had grown a beard, Jeth thought. Those really are quite abominable.
The crew stared for a moment, then they drew forth belt knives and circled about the door. Jeth stepped unconcernedly before them.
"Now, Captain," he said pleasantly. "That was not part of our deal."
"Blight on your deal!" the captain spluttered. "Go on, kill him!"
One young lad, eyeing his fellows to make sure they were watching, dashed forward all of a sudden and thrust his knife into Jeth's side. Jeth winced as it found its way between his ribs and into his heart. A good aim, that one. But he didn't altogether dislike the pain. It and the drama he'd stirred up on the drakkus just for the good fun—it was a little taste of being alive.
When Jeth didn't fall and just stared at him, the young man backed away nervously. "What's wrong with him?" he asked, eyes wide. "He just keeps standing there. Why en't he fucking falling?"
Jeth put a hand on the knife and slowly withdrew it, closing his eyes and savoring every sucking ounce of torment as it warmed his chest like the kiss of a lit hearth. Almost as soon as the steel left his body, his flesh knit itself whole. I can remember how to heal my body, he thought, but I can't remember if Jeth is truly my own name. A mad life he led, if it could be called that.
Their expressions were like sweet candies to savor, and Jeth drank them in. "Thank you for the applause, gentlemen," he said with a small bow. "I do appreciate the attention. But I have business to attend to in Theo'Buur, if you don't mind finishing our trip."
The sailors looked uncertainly to their captain, but it didn't look like they'd find help there. The fat man stared, jaw working up and down, like a cow chewing cud.
Jeth sighed. A bit of a disappointment, their reactions—he liked the ones that screamed, and liked better when they flew at him and tried to kill him anyway. "Truly," he said. "Go to your oars."
With one last glance at their captain, the men slowly went back to their posts, while Jeth examined the extent of the bloodstain. Not too much to cover with a fine jacket.
The captain stood there staring, and Jeth smiled as something occurred to him. “Oh Captain," he said jovially, and held up his hand with the beard to his chin. "What do you think of the look?"
The squeak that came from the man's throat—now that was a reaction he could appreciate.
But the excitement was done all too soon, it seemed, for the captain bolted away into the crew's quarters on the other side of the ship, and Jeth didn't doubt he barred the door. He sighed and looked over the side of the ship again towards Theo'Buur. He would have his fun again soon. With the rumors starting here, it wouldn't be long before everyone knew of his arrival. And that's when the real games would begin.
He ran his hands through the flaxen beard hairs. Not quite so fine as they looked, on second thought. He opened his hand and scattered them to the sea. Jeth would collect better than that before his trip was through here. He always did.
Afterword
Thanks for reading In the Shadow of the Rook! If you enjoyed it, it would be incredibly helpful if you left a review on Amazon or Goodreads. Thanks in advance!
If you haven’t had enough of The Sons Incarnate world, you can get a short story prequel called “The Lingering,” which depicts the night Erik lost Ilyse, for free by signing up for my newsletter.
If you’d like to hear about when Book II comes out or any other book releases (I’ll be starting a new series soon, details to come!), you can sign up here or visit jdlrosell.com.
Thanks again for your support!
- J.D.L. Rosell
Acknowledgments
First off, I want to thank my family, my parents in particular, for never telling me I couldn’t be a writer. To Mom and Dad: when I finished reading a pile of fantasy books, you would take me to the library for more. When I wrote my first “book” at ten (a twenty page story about Zak the Virtual Reality gladiator), when I fiddled around with drawings of swords and dragons, when I drafted stories of princes and mercenaries during hiking trips in Colorado, you never dismissed them or made them feel unimportant. Without your continuous support, I never could have written this, my first published book.
Thank you additionally to my sister Hannah, my partner in crime in many of my reading adventures, so much so that on several occasions we read from the same book at the same time. And thanks so much for your help with the book cover design.
And I have to thank my “mate” Kaitlyn, you who so patiently has put up with countless evenings and endless days of harassment about this book. You helped build this book, and without you, it would all be in shambles. Thanks additionally for the map.
Thanks to my thesis advisor at Truman State University, Dr. Sarah Mohler, and your continual support, belief, and advisement on my project, as well as thanks to my other thesis committee members, Dr. Priscilla Riggle and Dr. Michael Rudy. Your feedback and support has made a world of difference to myself and the book.
Thanks to my other early reader and best of friends, Nick, for your support and feedback and, most importantly, belief that I could make this all happen.
Thanks to my editor, Tim Marquitz, for helping clean up and tighten the wordsmithing. Go check out his books and website, everyone!
Thanks to all my other friends, family, and acquaintances who have expressed interest and supported in a plethora of other ways.
No one gets far without a community, and I never knew how much that meant until I wrote this novel.
And finally, thanks to you, dear reader, for taking a chance on a new author.
About the Author
J.D.L. Rosell is the author of In the Shadow of the Rook, the first book in The Sons Incarnate epic fantasy series. Originally from Kansas City, Kansas, he followed the yellow brick road to the Emerald City of Seattle, Washington, where he now lives, writes, reads, and hikes.
Find J.D.L. Rosell at:
www.jdlrosell.com
[email protected]
