by T. Norman
As per their usual routine, Tyrell left before Allison, making his way back to his chambers. After his first time finding the chamber, Allison informed him that the guards patrolling these hallways were under her command, so he no longer had to worry about sneaking out of their meetings.
On his way back to his chamber, Tyrell found Tomir sleeping outside his door, obviously waiting for his return. He attempted to sneak past his friend, but the opening door woke him from his slumber.
“Tyrell, is that you?” Tomir asked sleepily. He rubbed his eyes in exhaustion. “I was looking for you.”
Tyrell sighed; he wished to avoid these conversations if at all possible. “Sorry, I was out,” he responded coldly.
“What were you doing out so late?” Tomir pressed. Tyrell knew his friend cared about him, but he had a nagging feeling that there was another reason for his questions.
“I was having a hard time sleeping, so I went out for a walk.”
Tomir looked at him, confused. “You went walking in this storm?”
“The castle is large, there was plenty to explore inside.”
Tomir scratched at his neck awkwardly. “I’m worried about you, Tyrell. You look like you haven’t slept in ages, and I never see you around.”
Tyrell held back his desire to lash out at his friend. He was growing impatient, wanting only to continue to his room so he could practice his magic. “You don’t need to worry about me. In fact, I would prefer you left me alone.” He turned without saying another word and entered his chambers, quickly closing and locking the door behind him.
His room was dark and his windows rattled as the storm raged outside. Tyrell went to his desk and lit a lone candle. He sat down and put all his focus on the candle’s light. It grew brighter and dimmer at his command.
Tyrell smiled at the control he had over his power. “Is this what my mother came here searching for?” he asked out loud. Tyrell played with the candle until he felt the depletion of energy in his body. The sky was still dark as the storm continued. He laid down in his bed to rest.
Staring at the ceiling, Tyrell knew sleep would escape him again tonight. He let himself get lost in his thoughts.
37
A crash of thunder woke Gant. He didn’t know the hour, but through the windows of the fo’c’sle box, he could see it was still storming. Gant was sick of being stuck in the compartment, so he climbed the ladder to see if there were any signs of when the storm would pass.
As he opened the cover to the fo’c’sle, a gust of wind sent shivers down his spine. The rain had stopped but the wind was still blowing uncontrollably.
Gant stumbled across the deck to find Don trimming the starboard main sail.
“Don, have you seen my dad?” The grizzled man shook his head, concentrating on his work.
Gant moved on, searching for someone to get answers from. He saw Ghost on the bow of the ship, trimming the jib. He was focused on his work and didn’t acknowledge Gant’s presence.
He walked aft toward the stern, hoping Valcor could tell him what was happening.
Henrik came from the helm, exhaustion evident on his face. “Gant, I thought I told you to stay in the fo’c’sle?” His voice was hoarse; Gant knew he must have been yelling orders through the storm.
“I’m looking for my dad, have you seen him?”
Henrik shook his head. “Go talk to Valcor.” He walked away before Gant could ask any more questions. Gant felt a pit in his stomach as worry started to settle in. He quickly made his way to the stern, to find an even more exhausted looking Valcor standing at the helm of the ship.
“You shouldn’t be up here, it’s not safe,” Valcor stated indifferently. He knew Gant was a determined and stubborn young man.
“Valcor, where’s my dad? Where’s Julia?”
Valcor turned to look at him, and Gant could see the despair in his eyes. “Gant, I’m sorry.”
Gant’s hands started trembling in fear. He stood staring into the dark horizon, lost in Valcor’s words. “He wasn’t the only one. Cal, Two Foot, Julia, and Carn all went over, as well. Those rogue waves took them all.” Even though he spoke softly, Valcor’s words were less than comforting. They set Gant on edge.
“We need to find them. They could still be out there!” Gant pleaded. He refused to believe his friends and family were lost.
“You saw that storm. Even if they were out there, there’s no way for us to find them. They could be anywhere by now.” Valcor turned his attention to Henrik, who was running down the edge of the ship toward the helm.
“Valcor, there’s an island up ahead. There’s a beach big enough for us to land.” His shoulders sagged in relief.
Valcor held a hand above his eyes to peer out in the distance. Gant followed suit, looking for the land. To his surprise, the island was quite large, consuming most of the horizon.
“Let’s not waste any time. Haul the main sail to full.” Henrik gave a quick nod and ran off to relay the commands. “Go make sure your friends are braced for landing. We lost our anchor in that storm, so we’re going to have to beach.”
Gant underestimated the force of beaching a ship. As Serenity’s keel crashed into the beach, he lost his footing and was hurled forward on the deck. Luckily, he landed safely and avoided any injury. Henrik and Ghost hauled two small beaching anchors onto shore and secured the ship to the land.
“Henrik,” Valcor called. “Take Gant, Ghost, and Apo’k and check the surrounding area. I want to know who and what is on this island. Everyone else, you’re with me.”
Gant moved to climb down the side of the ship when he heard a whimper come from behind him. He turned to see Ros climb out of the galley, soaking wet and shaking. “Come here, girl,” he called to the dog. She bounded toward him, excited for some attention. He scratched her ear as she wagged her tail happily. “Stay here with the others, Ros. We won’t be long.”
As he climbed down to catch up to Henrik, Ghost, and Apo’k, he heard Valcor raise his voice at the rest of the crew. “I thought I told you to secure everything down!” the captain yelled. “What happened to our port skiff?”
Large hills loomed in front of them. Henrik gestured toward the closest one and said, “Let’s make our way up the hillside. We should get a better view of the entire island from up top.” The four men climbed the hill in silence, the loss of their friends still hanging over their heads.
The sky was dark and cloudy, but Gant figured it to be mid-afternoon by the time they reached the top of the hill.
“There’s a town over there.” Ghost pointed to the bottom of the hill. Trees blocked their view, but many small plumes of smoke rose up from an opening at the base of the hill.
Gant could see a second island across a narrow strip of water, seemingly larger than the one they were on. A flicker of movement in the distance caught his eye. He pointed toward it, getting the others’ attention. “Do you see that ship?”
Ghost reaffirmed his suspicions. “Too big to be a smuggler, too small to be a warship.”
Gant looked at the man, puzzled. “What is it, then?”
“A slaver,” Henrik had his hand above his eyes, peering at the ship. “We’ve seen them come through these waters before. It looks like they were out in the storm, as well.”
Hope shot through Gant. “What if they have my dad and the others?”
Henrik looked at Gant with sympathy. “Gant, I lost friends in that storm as well, but you saw how hard it was raging. The likelihood that someone could survive in the open water in that is slim to none.”
Gant stood firm. He knew his father was alive and he knew he was on that ship. “What if they weren’t in the open water?” Henrik gave a puzzled cock of his eyebrows. “I heard Valcor say that one of the skiffs is missing. What if they found the skiff and were able to stay afloat on that?”
Henrik scratched his chin in thought, “If, and I mean if they were able to get onto the skiff amidst those waves, then yes, they could have survived. That doesn�
�t mean they were picked up by those slavers, though.”
“We should check out this town, might find some answers there,” Ghost interjected. “We need an anchor and some other supplies, anyway.”
Gant smiled at the man, thankful the quiet Ghost chose this moment to speak up. Gant hoped someone in the town might have some answers or might have seen something hinting at his father’s whereabouts.
Henrik shook his head at his fellow crewman. “Ghost, sometimes I hate it when you speak up, because you make a damn good point. All right, Gant and I will go pay this town a visit. You two get back to Valcor and let him know what’s going on.”
“Can I have a moment with Apo’k quickly before you go?” Gant requested of the others. He hated keeping secrets, but he needed to talk to the seer in private.
“Make it quick.” Henrik and Ghost moved a little ways down the path, observing the town before them.
Gant turned to Apo’k and asked, “Did your hawk make it through the storm?”
Apo’k smiled warmly. “Yes, Fawkes did. Why do you ask?”
“Good.” Gant nodded in excitement as he realized his plan would work out after all. “Can you send him after that slaver? I have a feeling that my dad and the others are on there, and I need to know.”
Apo’k put his hand on Gant’s shoulder. “Of course, my friend. I had Fawkes land on an island north of us to avoid the storm, but it won’t take long for him to catch the ship.”
Gant smiled at his friend. “Thanks, Apo’k, I owe you one.”
The town was larger than Gant had expected. There were very few houses; instead it was populated with inns, taverns, and a variety of shops.
“It’s a trading town. Most of the residents live in their shops, and everyone else is just passing through,” Henrik observed.
“Have you been here before?” Gant inquired as they walked down the streets of the town. Of the people walking from shop to shop, Gant could tell that, much like the crew of the Serenity, many had been hit by the storm and had only recently been able to go outside without being hammered by wind and rain.
“No, the farthest east we ever came was a small island north of here called Trill. They have iron mines from which we would haul ore back to Ansaroth.” He looked cautiously around. Many eyes lingered on Gant and Henrik. A large inn loomed in front of them, the noise from inside proving its popularity. “This is our best bet to find what we’re looking for,” Henrik said.
Henrik led the way through the large wooden door. A ship and whale were drawn on a sign hanging above the door.
Inside, the smell of smoke and ale filled Gant’s nose. He had never smelled an inn so foul in his life. Henrik gracefully maneuvered through the crowd to the bar where a woman was serving drinks.
“What can I get ya?” she asked in a thick accent. Most of the people in the inn had missing teeth or crooked noses, and all looked as if they could use a shower. This woman had a clean face, but her clothes and hands were covered in dirt and grime. Gant found himself thinking that she could actually be quite attractive if she cleaned up a bit.
“Two ales, thanks,” Henrik quickly ordered. The woman walked away busily as Henrik turned toward Gant and said, “Don’t worry, they’re both for me.” He gave him a quick smile.
The woman came back after a few minutes with two ales in her hands. “That’ll be two bronzes apiece.”
“I have a few questions for you as well,” Henrik said as he pulled out a silver coin and placed it on the bar. “Our ship was damaged in the storm, and we are in need of some supplies to repair it. Anyone here have a shipyard?”
The woman nodded and pointed behind them. Gant followed her direction to see a large man laughing and holding up a glass of mead to another man at his table. “Aye, you’ll want to talk to Dentos, he owns the local shipyard. Is that all?” She gave Henrik a crooked smile.
“Just a couple more questions. We saw a square rig with maroon sails heading south, know the ship?” Henrik got his answer from the look on her face. The woman’s eyes opened wide in hate.
She nodded, jaw clenched. “She’s a slaver, goes by the name of Barron’s Briar.”
“From the sounds of it you have a personal vengeance with this ship?” Henrik pried.
“She raided our shores a year ago.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “Took my two sons.”
Henrik reached up and placed it on top of hers. “I’m sorry. We think they might have taken our friends, as well. Do you know where they are heading?”
“She docks at North Bend, but the slaves are brought to the fighting pits in Laytos.”
The more the woman talked, the more questions Gant had, but he held his silence, letting Henrik continue to get answers.
“Thank you, my dear. My friends and I are going to get our crew back. If I happen across your sons, I will make sure to bring them back to you. What are their names?”
She looked at Henrik suspiciously. Gant assumed she wasn’t used to selfless gestures as she answered, “Meeko and Dallan.”
Henrik gave her a warm smile, grasping her hand tighter. “I just have one last question: what’s your name?”
Gant saw the woman begin to blush. “I don’t give my name to strangers.”
Henrik laughed. “Even a stranger who’s promised to bring your sons home safely?” She shrugged playfully at him. “My name is Henrik Exeli,” Henrik said in return, “first mate on the mighty Serenity. I believe it’s your turn.” He gave her a warm smile.
She sighed. “I guess you do deserve at least a name. Eliana Zauk.” She reached out and shook Henrik’s hand. “But you can call me El.” She gave him a wink.
Gant was puzzled at how the conversation had ended, but was relieved they had found answers to their questions.
“Until we meet again.” Henrik kissed the back of El’s hand, then picked up his two mugs of ale and turned toward the crowded inn. “Watch and learn, kid.” He smiled and walked forward through the crowd.
Gant sat and watched as Henrik promptly sat down at the table next to Dentos, placing one of his ales in front of himself and the other in front of the drunken man. “Looks like you’re running out and could use another.” Dentos looked from the glass to Henrik suspiciously. Gant saw him look up at the bar at El, who gave him a smile and a nod.
“Perfect bloody timing!” Dentos raised the mug and cheered. He gave Henrik a slap of approval on the back while Gant stared in wonder.
38
The chains dug into his wrists, and blood dripped from the sores beneath. The smell of sweat and human excrement filled Carn’s nose. All sense of the time of day was lost as he was confined below decks. Carn could feel his body weakening; he hadn’t had food in days and he had only minimal water.
Moans and cries filled the hold as the conditions took its toll. Carn tried to fight his exhaustion, looking for an opportunity to escape, but he was drained of all energy.
After he saw Rysh and Two Foot fall into the sea, he cut loose the skiff and went in after them. Carn was able to find an unconscious Two Foot, but the rest were lost at sea.
His fellow crewmate, who was chained across from him, only woke once for a brief moment. He was dazed and confused, asked for ale, and then passed out again. Carn kept watching him for signs of life, wondering how long until he received medical attention.
A commotion on deck caught Carn’s attention. He could hear feet running about, and figured they either spotted another ship or were coming into port.
Carn didn’t know how much time had passed, but eventually the movement stopped and the rolling of the ship slowed to a gentle rock. We’ve come into port after all. A large man with tattoos covering his arms led an armed group of crewmen down the steps, keys hanging in his hand.
The man opened a lock that held the bar in place, releasing the chained-together hands and feet. Carn followed directions as the man bellowed, “Get on your feet! If any of you try and run or fight, my friends here will kill you without hesitation.” He reached o
ut his hand to one of the guards, who handed him a sabre. “To prove how serious I am,” the tattooed man said, turning to a man standing near him. Carn guessed he had been a knight; his arms were strong and muscular from what looked like years of training with a sword and shield. The tattooed man grabbed him by his hair, slitting his throat without pause. His body fell to the floor, limp. Carn could feel weight added to the chains around his wrists. “Move!” the tattooed man ordered. He handed the sabre back to the guard and marched above deck.
The guards pulled out small wooden canes and began encouraging stragglers to move faster with sharp blows to their arms and backs.
The knight’s body was pulled along with the others, his arms and legs still chained together. Carn was surprised to see Two Foot walking on his own. His eyes were cast to the ground, and he looked as if he could collapse at any moment. Carn took a step closer to his friend. “Lean on me if you need to,” he whispered as he pulled his forearm under his friend’s armpit, trying to take some of the weight from him.
Two Foot gave no response, continuing to walk forward as if Carn wasn’t there.
They climbed the steps, only to be blinded by the sun. Between the storm and being brought below decks, Carn guessed they hadn’t seen light in at least four days.
The port was unlike any other Carn had traveled to. There were no shops or taverns, only a walled town with guards posted along the wall. They were brought to a caravan of wagons, where the guards separated them into groups, then led them into the backs of wagons.
Carn was surprised by the fluency with which these men worked, obviously something they had mastered through years of practice.
He looked around the mass of individuals being pulled off the ship, hoping to see another familiar face among the crowd.
A group of women caught his attention. They were being treated similarly to the men, but he noticed the guards weren’t using their canes to encourage haste. A young woman, standing in the middle of the group, was looking forward with terror on her face. Thank the Creator Julia is alive. Carn wanted to call out to her, but hesitated as the guards unchained him and led him to a wagon.
