Blood-Stained Heir (Ascent Archives Book 1)

by T. Norman

Rysh smirked at his son. “I’ll be fine.” He nodded toward the bow of the ship, where land was growing closer. “Where are we?”

  “Port Hallsworth. We’re hoping to pick up Apo’k.” Gant patted Ros’s head as he spoke of their friend. “We’ve got some unwanted guests, though.” Gant helped Rysh turn and directed his gaze to the white sails in the distance.

  Rysh nodded. “I see. We better make this quick.” Valcor came into sight, walking down the starboard walkway from the helm toward the main deck of the ship, Henrik just behind him.

  “Rysh,” he greeted him with a sturdy handshake. “Good to see you up and moving around. I hope you remember our conversation?”

  Rysh nodded solemnly. “I do. You don’t have to worry about me.”

  Valcor beamed enthusiastically. “Good! Henrik, get the crew.” Henrik stalked off, calling out to the crew to meet on the main deck.

  In only a few minutes the whole crew was gathered on the deck, except Cal, who was manning the helm, and Ghost, who was on bow watch.

  “All right, listen up,” Valcor called so everyone would hear him. “We need to make this quick—get in and get out. Rysh, seeing as you aren’t fit for much movement, you’ll be staying on board. Julia and Don, you two will be staying here with Ghost and Cal, as well.” Valcor received no protest to his orders.

  “We need to restock our medical supplies and we could use more food. Henrik and Mic, you two will stay with the skiff; we aren’t going to risk bringing Serenity into dock, as we need to be ready for a quick getaway. Two Foot, Carn, and Alric, I want you three to get our resupply of food. Cal has a list for you. Gant, you’re with me. We’re going to get our medical supplies.” Valcor stood straight, addressing all of the crew. “I want all of you dressed and ready for combat. We need to be ready to haul sails in case this goes south. Grab your gear.”

  The crew dispersed quickly, everyone heading to their quarters to grab their armor and weapons. Valcor gestured for Gant to stay behind. “We don’t have extra time to go out and search for your friend. If he isn’t at the docks by the time we get back, we’ll have to leave without him.”

  Gant looked down at Ros, who was standing at his side. “Don’t worry, he’ll be there.”

  33

  Rysh stood on deck, watching smaller boats bob up and down on the waves. Gant and the others had left less than an hour ago for Port Hallsworth, but Rysh couldn’t help but worry that something had gone wrong.

  “Standing here watching won’t make them come back any faster.” Rysh gazed over his shoulder to find Don standing, arms crossed, watching him intently. He stepped up closer to Rysh, leaning on the manrope. “You might not think it, but what you did, getting all of them safely to Port Sarim, was a great accomplishment.”

  Rysh was surprised at the praise from his longtime friend. In all his days, he never knew Don to give praise or compliments. Rather, he would hold off on belittlement and punishments. “We didn’t all make it.” Rysh thought of Gayle, Limmey, and all the others who had died because of them. He thought of Lori, as well, even though he continued to struggle to forgive her.

  “You did everything you could,” Don said, turning to face Rysh, “which is more than anyone could have done in your place.” Don’s aging face was covered in scars where he was previously unmarked. He had let his beard and hair both grow unkempt, but he had the same fierce eyes.

  “Thank you. I’m sorry for everything that happened to you.” Rysh felt responsible for the torture Don was put through.

  Don patted Rysh on the arm. “Don’t worry, my friend. I knew what I was getting into when I went out and met those soldiers.” The image of Don and Darren walking out to greet the group of mounted soldiers played through Rysh’s head. He remembered Darren being beheaded and the soldiers attacking his home. Anger grew within him.

  “How could you accept his help at freedom? You watched him kill Darren!” Rysh clenched his fists around the hilt of his sword.

  Don shook his head. “You don’t understand, Rysh. I was dying in there and he risked his life to save me. Besides, he wasn’t the one who tortured me.”

  Rysh turned on his friend, nearly drawing his sword, “That doesn’t matter! He killed Lord Darren right in front of your eyes, and now you’re working with him side by side.” Rysh turned to walk off, trying to control his growing frustration.

  “You can’t judge a soldier by one action. You know better than I that many times we are given orders we don’t wish to follow, but it isn’t our place to resist. He rescued me from jail, he spared Gant the sorrow of having to kill his best friend, and he even saved your life while you were drowning.” Don’s voice rose in frustration. He let out a long sigh. “Give him a chance, Rysh. It’s the least you can do.”

  Rysh stood on the deck watching the docks until he saw the small skiff making its way back out to the ship. “They’re coming back,” he called out to the rest of the crew.

  Ghost stood at the bow, watching the enemy ships’ movements. “Good timing,” he called to Rysh. “They’re nearly upon us.” Rysh turned to see the fleet of four large ships closer than he expected. Their ships were twice the size of Serenity, and he could see the oars on both sides rowing in unison, propelling the large crafts viciously through the water. He had a sinking feeling that they would reach them before the skiff.

  “Haul the anchor, boys, we’re going to have to make a quick getaway.” Cal was moving toward the helm of the ship, ready to take control.

  Rysh limped toward the anchor with Ghost and Don. Valcor had put in the shallow anchor, which was about half the size of their usual anchor. Rysh was thankful for that choice, as even with the three of them, it was a struggle getting it out of the water. Once dislodged from the sea floor, Rysh felt the current start to move the ship in toward Port Hallsworth.

  This played to their advantage, as it gave them distance from their pursuers and brought them closer to the skiff. Unfortunately, coral and other underwater formations could damage their hull if they got too close to the docks.

  “Haul the jib to half-mast, I need a little more control,” Cal bellowed forward.

  Ghost and Don moved in perfect rhythm toward the halyard. The two men quickly untied the rope and hauled the sail. The ship gave a slight surge under their feet as wind filled the small sail.

  Rysh moved to the port side of the ship and lowered a ladder and rope to tie the skiff and for the crew to come aboard.

  The small vessel was upon Serenity quickly, and the crew tied off the craft and began climbing aboard. Rysh reached over and helped haul Gant on board. He noticed that Julia had come above deck with Ros, who was panting excitedly.

  Rysh reached after Gant to grab the next hand, noticing the light brown skin tone. He smiled as he pulled Apo’k onto the ship.

  “Good to see you made it back.” Before Apo’k could respond, Ros bounded across the deck and tackled him, licking his face with a warm greeting. “Someone missed you,” Rysh laughed, helping the rest of the crew climb on board. Valcor was the last to leave the skiff. Once on the ship deck, he quickly began yelling out commands to his crew.

  “Don and Gant, get that skiff on board and everything stored away.” The two quickly started hauling the lines tied to the skiff. Without skipping a beat, Valcor continued. “Ghost, eyes on those ships. Henrik, Mic, Carn, and Julia, get on the base halyard. Two Foot, Rysh, Alric, and Apo’k, get on the peak halyard. I want the mainsail and foresail flying now!” He stalked off to the helm, satisfied the crew would work without question.

  Within minutes, all four sails were in the air. Their pursuers slowly changed direction but Carn’s plan held true; the rowers weren’t able to maintain their speed, slowly losing ground on Serenity.

  Once they were underway, Rysh went in search of Alric, finding him on the main deck gazing out at the open sea.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Alric commented. The old man had always given Rysh pause, but seeing him staring peacefully into the sea made him see a complet
ely different person.

  “I have a favor to ask of you,” Rysh said, getting to the point.

  Alric turned to face him. His face showed part confusion but also part understanding. “If I am able to, I would gladly help.” He gave Rysh a smile.

  “I want you to train me with the sword,” Rysh stated bluntly.

  Alric laughed. “I’ve seen you fight, Rysh, you already have quite a bit of training. I don’t know what services I could offer.” He turned away, looking back out at the sea.

  Rysh shook his head. “That’s not true. When I faced Carn, he had me beat; Gant saved my life with that arrow. At Arbor Inn, Mic saved my life, and in Port Sarim, you rescued me with your hands tied together. I’ve seen you fight; you have more skill than I do and I want to learn.” He was clenching his fists with bound determination. He wanted to get stronger in order to protect the people he cared about.

  “There are others on this ship who could teach you better than I. As you said, Carn had you defeated, otherwise, both Valcor and Henrik are skilled warriors. Why not ask one of them?” Rysh could tell Alric knew the answer, but wanted to hear Rysh say it out loud.

  With some reluctance, Rysh answered the old man. “Because I trust you.” he hesitated before giving his real motivation, “and I don’t want Gant to think I’m weak and that I need help.” He didn’t realize he was speaking almost at a whisper.

  Alric smiled again. “There is no time to spare. I saw a few practice swords in the fo’c’sle; go grab a couple. Doesn’t matter their weight, but make sure they’re as long as your sword. No shields, either.” He paused, waiting for Rysh to move. “Get to it, now!” Rysh jumped at the command. He wasn’t used to Alric raising his voice.

  Rysh moved with what speed he could manage, grabbing two practice swords roughly the length of his own sword. He climbed out of the fo’c’sle to find Alric standing on the deck, arms crossed, waiting. He had removed his normal robes and now wore a cloth tunic.

  Alric silently reached out a hand for a sword. Rysh handed the sword to the man. As soon as it left his fingers, he saw Alric flick his wrist and the sword smashed into his shoulder.

  Rysh jumped back in surprise, raising his sword in defense.

  “Never bring your guard down,” Alric demanded calmly. In a flurry, he lunged, swinging left and right, with blows that would no doubt deliver death if not for the swords being made of wood. Rysh tried to move his hands in a blocking motion, letting every few blows slip by his defense, leaving welts on his upper body.

  Alric suddenly halted his attack, stepping back to observe Rysh. He shook his head. “You’re right, you do need a lot of help.”

  “I’m not used to fighting without a shield,” Rysh started to object. Alric raised a hand to silence him. He turned his palm and gestured for Rysh to attack him.

  Knowing that he only stood a chance if he used his strength and surprise, Rysh quickly launched forward, swinging his sword in a downward, two-handed blow. He felt only slight resistance as his sword deflected off Alric’s, continuing its motion toward the ground. Rysh fell off balance and crashed onto the deck. He turned to find Alric standing with his sword pointed at Rysh’s throat.

  “You need to stop trying to block every attack. It’s going to wear out your sword faster and it uses up more of your energy. Deflect the blows and use your opponent’s momentum against them, as I just demonstrated. Never use two hands, it puts your body off balance and makes you subject to fatal mistakes. Use your free hand for balance, holding your ground throughout the attack.” Alric reached a hand down, helping Rysh to his feet.

  Rysh brushed himself off and then picked up his sword, holding it at the ready. “Let’s go again.” Alric didn’t hesitate as he started his barrage of attacks.

  After two hours of hard practice, Rysh’s knuckles were bloody and swollen and he could feel a number of welts along his arms and legs. He smiled as he saw Alric massaging his arms where Rysh had managed to land a few solid blows. Rysh gave Alric a nod with a warm smile. “So, is there a hope for me yet?”

  “You fight like an old man.” Henrik approached Rysh with a wooden short sword in his left hand while his right held a dagger. “Let’s see if you can fight like a pirate.”

  Rysh knelt down to pick up his sword. Taking a lesson from Alric, he pounced to his feet, on the attack.

  34

  You have your weapons and you know how to use them, Amalia told herself. You can do this. She paced back and forth in the hallway, worried about the meeting to come. She had convinced Zaren to ask King Stowen about arranging a private meeting with her. She didn’t think it would amount to anything, but here she was, standing outside his chambers waiting to be summoned. The door opened and Zaren emerged from the room. She felt a pang of guilt for using this man, who she found attractive in a dark and scary sort of way. She made a mental note to fix that situation before it got out of control.

  “His Highness is ready for you, My Lady.” Captain Kosoth gave a slight bow, a smile hinting on his lips. She knew where his thoughts were.

  Amalia gave a slight curtsy. “Thank you, Captain.” She walked past the man with her head held high. She let her arm brush slightly against him, smiling at the contact. Might as well have a little more fun, she thought.

  Allister Stowen sat at his desk, hands folded in front of his face in contemplation. “Please, sit.” He made no attempt at a formal greeting.

  “Thank you, Your Majesty, for giving me this opportunity to meet with you.” King Stowen gave a slight gesture and Amalia heard the door close, knowing she had the king alone, as she had planned.

  “It seems you have quite the spell on my captain,” Allister said, eyeing her suspiciously. “It took a lot of courage for him to approach me, and even more courage for you to ask for such a meeting. So, my dear,” he leaned forward, and Amalia could smell the wine on his breath from across the large desk, “what is the purpose of this meeting?”

  Amalia straightened her shoulders and brushed off her dress. “Your Majesty, I come to ask a favor of you. I request that you give Captain Fallan command of the soldiers from Castle Mordin.”

  Allister cocked his eyebrows. “My Lady, you have no power or jurisdiction over the soldiers of Castle Mordin.” He scratched his chin. “You wish me to keep back Tyrell, don’t you?”

  Amalia felt sweat beading on her brow. She struggled to keep her nerves in check. “Yes, sir. He is not fit for combat and I’m afraid that if he leads his men in the charge, he will surely die.”

  Allister let out a loud bellow. “You wish that I spare the weakling, because you think he might die? That’s war, my dear: soldiers die. It would be unfit if the men followed someone other than their lord into battle.”

  Amalia took a deep breath. “I agree. Their lord, Hugh Inglest, stayed behind in Castle Mordin to prepare the local lands for the coming winter. In his charge he sent his son, Tyrell Inglest, as an ambassador to represent him in the small council meetings. He also sent Captain Fallan, the man who has trained and fought with their soldiers, to lead the men during battle. If you want to send someone they will follow, that is not my brother.” She felt frustration building. She hated that her father sent her brother in his place. Lord Inglest wanted to hide in his castle rather than face a war.

  “I see. You make a good point, but there is still the formality of the whole ordeal. I would need a reason to keep him behind, otherwise it might create unrest amongst the ranks.”

  “You’re the king, isn’t your word reason enough?” Amalia knew what the answer would be, but she hoped for something different.

  Allister laughed again, “My dear, you really have no understanding of politics. If I could rule by word alone, the land would be exponentially safer and more prosperous. Unfortunately, that is not how the world works.”

  Amalia nodded. She had expected this. She rose from her chair and walked around the desk toward the king. She sat on the large wooden table, facing the king, letting her legs brush up against hi
s. “I’m sure you can think of something.” She leaned closer to the king, putting her lips to his ears. She knew she had captured his attention. “It must be awfully lonely since the passing of your wife. Maybe there is some way I can help.” She brushed her hand against his cheek.

  Allister turned to face her, his mouth inches away from hers. He grabbed the back of her head and pulled her toward him, locking their lips together.

  Amalia knocked on the door to Tyrell’s chambers, finding them empty. She was beginning to worry about her brother. She hadn’t seen him, except in passing, since he found her with Zaren.

  She turned to leave, and walking around a corner, she collided with Tomir. The boy began apologizing immediately. “I’m sorry, My Lady, I didn’t see you coming. I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry.” He spoke quickly, avoiding her gaze.

  Amalia smiled at the boy. When she lived in Castle Mordin, she knew he fancied her, and she could tell he still held the same feelings. “It’s quite all right, Tomir. I was just looking for my brother, have you seen him?”

  Tomir kept his eyes averted. “Not today, My Lady, I’ve been busy in the stables all morning.”

  Amalia placed her hand on his chin, lifting his eyes to look at her. As Tomir was looking up, his eyes lingered on her chest before continuing to her eyes.

  “Can you do me a favor?” He nodded silently. “I’m worried about my brother. I haven’t seen him in a while and I want to make sure he’s okay. I know you’re his best friend and that he talks to you. Do you think you could keep an eye on him?” Tomir nodded again, still entranced with her beauty. “What would it take for you to tell me what my brother is doing, just so I know he’s okay?” Amalia added the last bit for reassurance.

  Tomir shook his head. “I would gladly help you, My Lady, I don’t need anything in return.”

  Amalia smiled at the boy; he would serve her well. She stepped closer to him, letting him feel her chest against his as she held his chin high to look at her. “Thank you, Tomir,” she said. She leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek, letting her lips linger. “I will forever be in your debt.”