by William King
CHAPTER ONE
LIGHTNING CRACKLED ACROSS the storm-black sky. A gigantic wave broke against the bow of the Kraken’s Reach, smashing down on the ship with the force of a hammer blow.
Salt spray stung Kormak’s eyes. The howling wind lashed his tall lean form. It rippled his greying black hair as he braced himself against the wooden guard rails.
A few grim-faced marines huddled in the pools of light the storm-lanterns left on the deck. Kormak understood their thinking. If the ship foundered, anyone down below would drown in darkness as the shattered hulk plunged to the seabed.
Overhead sailors inched along rain-slick spars like human spiders. He did not envy the men atop the masts. The height amplified every roll of the ship, turning it into a monster that sought to shake seamen off like a dog ridding itself of fleas.
Rhiana strode over to his side, shielded her gaze with her long white hand and peered into the distance. The translucent second lids over the merwoman’s green eyes made her look cataract-blind but she could see better in this gloom than any of the crew.
“This is not good,” she shouted. She was a tall, powerful woman and her voice carried over the storm’s howl.
“Thank you. I needed your expert opinion to tell me that,” Kormak bellowed. He fought to keep his balance on the rain-slick deck as the ship heeled over. The motion threw them together. Her skin felt icy cold.
“Looking for a last kiss, Sir Kormak?” Her white teeth glistened in the gloom. Splashing seawater made the gills in her neck pulse. With her strange eyes and cropped silver hair she looked alien.
“Now hardly seems the time for romance,” Kormak said.
Rhiana’s eyes widened. Another huge wave broke. White foam surged over the forecastle, clawing at them. Rhiana held tight to the guard rail but the force of the flow lifted her free. Kormak’s hand clenched her wrist. His other arm held firm on the wooden barrier and kept them from being swept overboard.
“That was close,” she said. Her mouth was close enough to his ear so that he could hear her words without her shouting.
“It would not be so bad for you,” he said. “You could survive out there.”
“I would need to dive deep and far. The currents could still smash me against the ship. The Shadow-cursed waves could break every bone in my body if one hit me the wrong way.”
“At least you can get clear of the ship, if we go down.”
“Why so gloomy, Sir Kormak? We have not sunk yet. I have survived worse storms than this.”
“Really,” Kormak said.
“Well, perhaps not quite so bad. This is a real ship-killer. Damned if it had to happen to us so close to the Siderean coast. Maybe the sailors are right and this ship is cursed.”
“It was cursed by the Quan’s presence,” Kormak said. “But the Kraken’s demon allies are gone, along with their master. We killed them.”
Rhiana shook her head. “Their psychic stink clings to this craft. I do not like it here.”
“You could always have sailed on the Sea Dragon.”
“And missed your cheerful company? Why would I do that?”
She gazed out to sea, looking for the Sea Dragon’s running lights. They had vanished when the storm caught them in its clutches. Perhaps the other ship was already on the sea-bottom.
He smiled at her. She was a beautiful woman and a confident one, and she was not quite human. “Do you always flirt when death is close,” he asked.
“If this was my ship, I would be where Zamara is, up on the command deck shouting orders,” she said. “But since I have time on my hands, why not? How about you? Do you always play so hard to get?”
“I find struggling with terror takes away the magic of the moment.”
“I can see how it would do that,” she said. The boat rocked from another wave impact. Salt spray smashed into them. A man screamed as he plummeted from the mast and disappeared into the storm-tossed sea.
“I hate this,” Kormak said.
“That’s not very flattering,” Rhiana said.
“I hate feeling so powerless.”
“The sea makes everyone feel that way. It is always there to remind you that, whatever you think, you have no real control over your life. Everything can be taken away from you at any minute.”
The wind gusted. The storm-lanterns swung. Kormak thought he saw something on the horizon. He pointed. “What’s that?”
“Where?” Rhiana gazed into the distance.
“I saw a light.” Kormak squinted into the flying spray. Rhiana leaned against the guard rail and peered out into the darkness. Another lightning flash revealed that they were atop a towering wave. Cresting it, he looked down into the long dark valley between the huge rollers.
Over on the distant horizon, just for a moment, he thought he saw a point of light. “There!” he said.
“I see it,” Rhiana said.
“What is it?”
“I pray it the Beacon of Trefal.” At night, the sorcerous sunstone illuminated the capital of Siderea. Perhaps that was what he had seen .
The light disappeared into the gloom of the storm. He glanced up but saw no one in the crowsnest to confirm the sighting.
The light appeared again. He raced back along the slippery deck towards the sterncastle. Captain Zamara saw him coming and shouted, “What is it, Sir Kormak?”
“The lights of Trefal,” Kormak replied.
“You sure?” The rain plastered Zamara’s copper-blonde hair to his skin. His eyes held a wild look. The short lifeline tied to the ship’s railing made him seem like a mad dog on a leash.
Kormak wasn’t sure, but they were as good as lost anyway. “Yes.”
“You have keen eyes. It’s a pity you cannot guide me. I can see nothing from here.”
A thought struck Kormak. “Rhiana can.”
“What do you mean?”
“Take off your elder sign.” The tall captain looked at him as if he was mad.
“I may go down to the Sea Queen’s dungeons this evening and I would have my soul protected if I go.”
“She is a mindspeaker. She can watch from the prow and guide you. She knows ships and she knows navigation.”
Still Zamara looked dubious.
“It is the life of your ship balanced against the risk to your eternal soul.” Zamara grinned. He was a Siderean sea captain and his ship was in peril. There was only one decision he could make. He removed the elaborate elder sign and tossed it to Kormak. “Hold on to it for me,” he said.
Kormak’s fist closed around the talisman. It was heavy and inlaid with gold. He turned and fought his way back up the deck towards Rhiana.
“Speak to Zamara as you spoke to me when we were below the waves,” Kormak said. “Guide him. Tell him what you see.”
Rhiana stared at him. Kormak raised the captain’s elder sign. “He is not warded.”
Rhiana nodded. A flicker of concentration passed across her face. A moment later, Zamara bellowed something and the ship heeled as her course corrected.
***
Another wave roared towards the ship, the largest yet. The bow of the Kraken’s Reach rose at a sickening angle as it began to climb. Kormak imagined the ship overturned as if by a giant’s hand.
Water flooded the deck. It hit Kormak like a hammer, knocking him off his feet, sending him flying. Salt water got into his mouth and his eyes, blinding him. He smashed into something and, dazed, grabbed it, wrapping his arms around what turned out to be the mast. He dreaded more than anything being thrown overboard into the storm-tossed sea. Here his chance of survival was slight. In the water, it was non-existent.
The decks were empty. He hoped that the marines were below. He looked up. The rear mast hung at a strange angle,
half-cracked, bent like a broken limb. As he watched it tumbled and fell. He saw no sign of Zamara and the helmsman.
It did not matter. Without anyone to guide the ship it was already turning. If a wave caught them . . .
He raced up the stair and almost stumbled over Zamara’s body. Kormak did not have time to see whether he was dead or merely unconscious. He threw his enormous strength against the wheel. It was like wrestling with a giant. He could not budge the rudder.
He looked up as another monstrous breaker approached. He drew deep within himself and shouted a challenge to the wall of watery death looming over him. Slowly, painfully he forced the wheel to move. The prow of the ship turned. He prayed to the Holy Sun that he had done enough.
The Kraken’s Reach rode up the long swell, crested the wave and began to the long drop down. His eyes swept the deck looking for Rhiana. Was she there? He thought he could make her tall figure in the gloom. She moved towards him. Her face was pale and desperate. She knew how close they were to sinking.
She clambered onto the sterncastle and looked down at Zamara. She checked the pulse on his throat and shouted, “Still alive.”
“Get back up front and guide me towards the lights,” Kormak said. “Use mindspeech.” He pulled the elder sign from under his tunic and wrapped the chain around the pommel of his sword where it emerged from the scabbard.
I will do that, a flat voice whispered inside his head, so small as to almost make him think he was imagining things.
“Hurry,” he said. She raced back to the prow.
***
Left. Lost in a world of fatigue, soaked to the skin, Kormak responded to the voice in his head. His arms ached from forcing the great wheel into motion and from clinging to it when the giant waves swept over the ship. The cracked mast hovered over him, threatening death if it should topple.
Enough. Hold her steady. We’re heading into another wave.
He forced himself to grip the wheel, even as the ship fought him, the rudder trying to swing in the rip of the current.
The wind froze his flesh. The wheel fought his control. His hands were frozen into claws.
Hold her steady. The lights are closer.
Kormak opened his eyes just in time for more spray to set them stinging. He did not want to take his hands from the helm to wipe them so he squinted into the rain. Was Rhiana right? Was there a glow on the horizon? Or was it just a storm lantern swinging in the wind?
Where were the sailors? Why did Zamara not get up and help him? He felt as if he was sailing through some cold hell on a ship crewed by the dead with only the voice of madness in his head for company.
The wind howled and roared and gibbered like an insane god. Perhaps the ship was cursed. Perhaps some taint left over by the Quan had doomed them all.
Hard left!
Kormak swung the wheel. It fought him with the strength of a demon. The damn ship had a will of its own. It was determined to doom them all. He pushed as hard as he could, throwing his weight to one side. Inch by inch, the rudder moved, and the ship’s prow swung onto the new course.
Enough. Hold her there.
His fingers slipped. The wheel spun with irresistible force. The wooden handle hit him on the forehead, the force of the blow like a punch from an orc. His legs threatened to give way. Instead, he willed himself to reach out and grab the handles again.
What are you doing? Hard left! Hard left now or we will be swamped!
Throwing every remaining ounce of strength into the struggle, he fought the wheel around.
Look up!
Kormak saw a distant golden light breaking through the storm clouds.
It is the sunstone atop the Palace Imperial. We are on course.
Kormak tried to hold course for the distant light. How much longer could he keep this up?
CHAPTER TWO
KORMAK GRITTED HIS teeth and gripped the wheel. Salt spray stung his eyes. Cold water swirled around his feet, shifting Zamara’s body. The captain’s eyes opened. He gave a sick grin then felt at his head.
“You look as if you could use some help,” he said as he used the rail to pull himself to his feet.
Zamara shaded his eyes with his hand and squinted into the distance. “By the Holy Sun, man! What have you done?”
“What now?” Kormak managed to force the words out of his numbed mouth.
Zamara slapped his back. “You’ve taken us into Trefal Harbour. If we can just get past the Wizard’s Isle we are safe.”
The realisation hit Kormak. Over the past few minutes, the sea had become less rough and the ship ran much smoother.
Zamara bellowed orders. Men pulled themselves out from below decks. The captain strode over and put his shoulder to the wheel.
“Not much further now.”
***
The Wizard’s Isle jutted from the sea. Its thousand windows blazed with light as they scudded past.
Beyond the tower lay a wide bay where the sea was far less rough than beyond the jaws of the headlands. A massive rock, like a sawn off mountain, rose above the city. On it perched the Palace Imperial. Above its highest roofs loomed a mighty tower. At its tip a golden glow pierced the night, like the first light of the sun peeking over the horizon at dawn.
Rhiana raced up the stairs to the sterncastle without stopping to ask the captain’s permission. Ahead of them, the harbour was full of the masts of ships, clustered together like a herd of beasts in a snowstorm. Apart from the main body was another smaller group of much larger ships.
Kormak unclenched his fingers from around the wheel and staggered to the guardrail. Rhiana made to support him but he shrugged her off. He tried never to show any sign of weakness.
“We did it,” she said. “We brought her in out of the storm.”
She was smiling. The second eyelid had withdrawn leaving her eyes looking almost mortal. The iris was green as jade.
“We did, didn’t we?” Kormak said.
Zamara clapped him on the back. The blow almost overbalanced Kormak. “By the Holy Sun’s Light, I thought we were all dead when that last wave swept the helmsman away. I expected to be eaten by eels in the Sea Queen’s dungeon this night.”
“Well, we’re spared that a fate.”
Zamara bellowed a command. The helmsman moved the ship a couple of points. Their course no longer lay in the direction of the group of massive galleons.
“What are they?” Kormak asked.
“Treasure Fleet,” Zamara said. “Luckier than us. Must have made landfall before the storm could catch them. We daren’t get too close while they are showing those warning lights. They would sink us, on the off-chance of us being pirates.”
“It would not do to be sunk now that we’ve survived the storm.”
“Most assuredly it would not. Now, Sir Kormak. Go below. Take my cabin. Rest. You deserve it.”
Kormak allowed himself to be led down to the cabin.
***
Kormak woke up in a warm bed with a warm body beside him. He turned over and looked down at Rhiana. The sheet did little to hide the smooth curves of her body. He made sure his sword was within easy reach, unhooked the elder sign from its pommel and draped it in place around his neck.
She was looking up at him when he turned back. She gave him a sour smile. “Do I frighten you so much?”
“Hardly at all,” he said. Sunbeams leaked in through the curtains. It seemed like day had broken while he slept. He checked his surroundings. The door was barred. It did not look like anybody could come barging in on them.
“I do not worship your Holy Sun, but I am not your enemy,” she said. She seemed quite serious. He laughed.
“It’s not you. I have worn this amulet so long I feel naked without it.”
She pulled the sheet away. “That would seem to be the point,” she said.
He reached out for her and drew her into his arms.
***
A loud banging on the door woke them.
“I think our captain wa
nts his cabin back,” said Rhiana.
“A pity,” Kormak said.
“Sir Kormak, Lady Rhiana, you must get up now! We have been summoned to the Palace and the King-Emperor of Siderea does not like to be kept waiting.”
“What do you think, Sir Kormak,” Rhiana asked. “Shall we keep the King-Emperor waiting?”
“He’s not my King-Emperor.”
“Nor mine.”
“If you do not open the door, I will have my men break it down,” Zamara said. He sounded desperate enough to carry out the threat. He was a Siderean nobleman and King Aemon was his liege lord.
Kormak sighed. “I suppose we had best get dressed.”
***
Kormak’s muscles ached. He could not remember when he had last felt this weary, but the sight of the harbour cheered him. The daylight was golden.
Steep hills surrounded the bay on three sides. Row upon row of white-painted blue-shuttered houses rose to their crests. Atop a flat mountain in the city centre the Palace Imperial loomed. In the daylight, its walls gleamed white and blue. Thousands of panes of glass caught the Holy Sun’s light and reflected them back like mirrors.
Scores of ocean-going ships lay anchored in the harbour. Hundreds of smaller boats moved between them, shifting crews and goods and officials. In the distance lay the huge galleons of the trans-oceanic treasure fleet. Tribute from Terra Nova, a thousand leagues away across the World Ocean, filled them.
Kormak clambered down the side-netting into the ship’s boat. Rhiana joined did the same and then Frater Jonas, who had finally emerged from his cabin below decks. The small priest showed no signs of being any the worse for last night’s horrors. He looked like he had slept through them. His face had its usual olive colour. His beard and hair were neatly clipped. His yellow robes looked immaculate. His elder sign glittered gold in the sun’s light.
“Sir Kormak, I heard what you and Captain Rhiana did and now I am doubly grateful to you,” he said.
“Think nothing of it,” Kormak said. “We would have gone down with the ship if we hadn’t.”
“Nonetheless, not many men could have done what you did. Not many ladies either.” The words were ambiguous. Jonas had been an inquisitor once and he must have his suspicions about how Rhiana had guided the ship into harbour.
