Skip: An Epic Science Fiction Fantasy Adventure Series (Book 2)

by Perrin Briar

  There was a knock on the door and Jeffrey the butler entered.

  “Lord Ascar,” he said, “Captain Timon is here to see you.”

  Gregory turned to Lord Wythnos.

  “May I use your study?” he said.

  “Of course.”

  The study was constructed with oak and polished every day to a high shine. Gregory sat in the throne-like leather chair behind Lord Wythnos’s desk. The door opened and Captain Timon entered with his helmet under his arm.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, sir,” he said, “but there was an incident at the port today.”

  “What incident?”

  “Two ships were brought into the harbour and had a small collision. No permanent damage was done, but it has made the captains wary.”

  “How did this happen?”

  Captain Timon placed a document on the desk before Gregory.

  “This is the ship loading itinerary. You ordered Morning Glory and Lightning Bolt to dock at the same time.”

  Gregory looked down the long list of columns.

  “Perhaps I was tired,” he said. “I must have…”

  He trailed off as he peered at Lightning Bolt. Someone had crossed out the time it should have docked and written in an identical time to Morning Glory.

  “These documents have been doctored,” Gregory said.

  “Yes, sir. It appears you made a last-minute alteration.”

  “An alteration was made, but not by me. This is not my handwriting.”

  Captain Timon took the document back.

  “Someone sabotaged the documents?” he said.

  Gregory leaned back in the upholstered armchair and pinched his lips between his index fingers in contemplation.

  “But no one had access to them,” Captain Timon said. “How is it possible?”

  “I don’t know,” Gregory said. “And more than that, what reason would someone have for doing it? Have men stationed along the dock. We have a viper in our midst.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Richard pulled Shadow Dancer to a stop. Through the sparse trees at the end of the winding dirt path he could make out a house and moving figures. He dismounted and handed the reins to Captain Philmore.

  “Stay here,” Richard said.

  “But sir,” Captain Philmore said, “this is the Stump clan. It might be dangerous.”

  “They’ll never talk to me if we approach them like we’re coming to arrest them.”

  “We have confirmed reports of two figures heading toward the Rumble Jungle,” Captain Philmore said. “Why don’t we head there?”

  “We shall. But first we must know our enemy. Know him, and we shall succeed.”

  Richard’s retinue of guards rode off the dirt track to conceal themselves behind dense shrubbery.

  Richard walked up the dirt path toward the house. The sun winked from behind leafy umbrellas, and birds called to one another high in the boughs of the thick-trunked trees that reached up into the sky.

  The house was small and looked to be made out of a single block of wood. As Richard drew closer he could see it had actually been skilfully carved using several tree species. The main body was sturdy oak, the window frames pliable ash, the door the distinctive hue of the silver birch, and the roof of stout beech. Tree bark coated the roof in overlapping squares.

  Around the house was a clearing of what had once been forest. Tree stumps jutted out of the ground, now used as small tables to hold everyday items. On them were plates, cups, spoons, forks and knives, all of them carved wood, only the knives were inlaid with sharpened metal edges.

  Richard found it hard to believe the notorious Elian Stump had come from such humble beginnings. There were unadorned tree trunk stools at a giant stump at least five feet wide. But it needed to be. The two men who sat around it were massive, their arms and shoulders muscular and well-developed. For a moment, Richard regretted leaving his men behind. But the older man had a pleasant countenance. He had a big bushy red beard that hid his mouth, and sharp blue eyes that matched his son’s, who had thin blond hair and not a whisker on his chin. They eyed him with caution as he approached.

  “I’m sorry to bother you at lunch,” Richard said gracefully. “But I’m looking for the Stump residence.”

  “You’ve found it,” the large man said.

  He proffered his ham-sized hand for Richard to shake.

  “I’m Goliath,” he said. “This is my son, Ralph. We were just about to eat. Would you like to join us?”

  Richard looked over at the humble spread. There was a thin duck and a fat chicken, some boiled potatoes and bread. It didn’t look like it could fill even one of the big men. But he needed to speak with them.

  “Thank you,” Richard said.

  “Pull up a stump,” Goliath said.

  Richard cast around and found a family of tree stumps huddled in a circle in front of the house. He picked one up, arms shaking – they were heavier than they looked – and placed it at the table. The Stump men laid their hands on the duck and chicken, tearing lumps of meat off and setting it on their plates. They sucked the grease from their fingers and reached for the vegetables. Thankfully they used a spoon as a ladle. Richard stuck to the vegetables.

  “I assume you’re here looking for Elian,” Goliath said. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but he’s not here. You can have your men come search, if you like.”

  Richard smiled.

  “I didn’t know you saw us approaching,” he said.

  “There’s been a few groups of constables come around, searching. We don’t mind you looking, so long as you don’t make a mess.”

  Richard looked around at the lumps of wood lying in disorder.

  “I could have my men tidy up the mess they made, if you like,” he said.

  “What mess?”

  “Uh,” Richard said. “I would never expect to find Elian here, anyway.”

  “Then you’re here for information,” Goliath said. “But you’re out of luck. I don’t have any of that either. I can only tell you what I told the others: We haven’t seen Elian in nigh-on five years.”

  “And you have no idea where he might be?”

  “No, and you’re thinking about Elian all wrong if you think he would come here. This is the last place he would come. And don’t you have more important things to be getting on with? You should be figuring out why time keeps skipping the way it is. It’s not natural, I tell you. No good will come of it.”

  “You’re right,” Richard said, “and we’ve got our top minds working on it, believe me.”

  There was a lull in the conversation. Ralph was very quiet, pointedly not looking at Richard. He stared ahead at the forest.

  “These potatoes are delicious,” Richard said. “Did you grow them yourselves?”

  “Yes,” Goliath said, huge chest swelling with pride. “Just around the corner there we have our own allotment. We use our own waste to fertilise them.”

  Richard stopped chewing and swallowed his last bite. He looked up at Goliath for signs it was a joke. There were none.

  “They are, uh, excellent,” Richard said. “Perhaps I can bring a little money your way by encouraging the police station to buy your potatoes.”

  Goliath looked over at his son.

  “Did you hear that, Ralph?” he said. “The Force eating our produce! Wouldn’t that be something?”

  Ralph gave Richard a sidelong glance.

  “I’m full,” he said. “Excuse me.”

  He stood up and up and up, towering over Richard. He took his plate inside and came out with an axe. Richard let himself feel the comfort of the dagger in the heel of his boot. Then Ralph walked out toward the forest and disappeared amongst the foliage.

  “Excuse my son, he’s been a little out of sorts lately,” Goliath said.

  “Haven’t we all. He’s a big lad.”

  “He takes after me. Elian always took after his mother.”

  “I was sorry to hear your wife had been struck by suc
h… unfortunate circumstances.”

  Goliath’s gaze turned cold.

  “What can I do for you?” he said.

  “I’m not going to beat about the bush. No doubt you’ve heard that Elian has kidnapped a noble lady?”

  “Wyth Nose, wasn’t it?”

  “Wythnos. She is well regarded in the merchant classes.”

  “My son was a good boy, an honest boy,” Goliath said. “Until his mother… When she passed I lost touch with him. I felt sorry for myself, I suppose, and neglected my boys. Elian took care of his little brother while I dealt with things. It took me two years to get over my wife’s death, as much as I could anyway, and by then it was too late and Elian was grown up. I blame myself for the way things turned out.

  “His mother thought he moved well. She had aspirations for him to become an acrobat or dancer, or something else where he could use his body. He could climb a tree faster than it took a man to even start chopping at it. In his heart he is a good man. I still believe that. And he would never do any serious crimes.”

  “He’s a thief.”

  “But not a murderer, or kidnapper. There are certain crimes some men are not capable of.”

  “In the Capital he built up quite a reputation for himself as someone who could get his hands on things others could not.”

  “He always had that gift. I wanted him to go into the family business of lumberjacking, but I suppose it was too small for him. Maybe it’s too small for any man, but I found purpose in it. My youngest lumberjacks with me.”

  “And what is Ralph’s relationship with his brother like?”

  “Complicated. But then, isn’t every family?”

  “I can understand,” Richard said. “Living in the older sibling’s shadow. Even if it is blacker than black.”

  He looked toward the forest Ralph had disappeared into and then turned back to Goliath.

  “Your brother-in-law, the Chief Constable at Crossroads, had Elian in custody when he escaped,” he said. “Do you think he let his relationship with you get in the way of his decision?”

  “No,” Goliath said. “I don’t think so.”

  “The powers that be have decided that he did. He’s going to be sent to prison until Elian is captured.”

  Goliath slammed his fist on the table, making the plates jump, startling Richard.

  “But why?” Goliath said. “He didn’t do anything wrong! He would have kept hold of Elian if he could. Can’t you do something for him?”

  “It’s out of my hands, unfortunately. I dislike seeing an injustice done – whether by criminals or our own. Not that any law has been broken, of course. The Force can deal with its own however it likes.”

  “That doesn’t seem fair.”

  “I agree, but there’s nothing I can do. There’s something you could do if you wanted to help.”

  “What?”

  “If you had any information that might lead to Elian’s arrest I might be able to convince the powers that be to let your brother-in-law go, or at least be more lenient on him. He is an innocent victim in all this, after all.”

  Goliath’s shoulders sagged.

  “I wish I knew something,” he said. “Truly, I do. But I don’t know anything.”

  “Then it appears your brother-in-law will have to wait where he is till we apprehend Elian ourselves. I hope it doesn’t take too long. Prisons can be very demoralising places.”

  Richard stood up and bowed his head slightly.

  “Thank you for the meal,” he said.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Richard strolled through the forest. A deer leapt in front of him and, startled to find him there, leapt away again. The birds sang and tweetled to one another. Their singing stopped abruptly. Richard peered around at the forest, unnerved. A bellow rang out: “Timber!”

  Out the corner of his eye he caught movement. A tree began to fall, a loud creak and snap as the trunk broke and the woof of leaves as they passed through the air. The tree hit the ground, sending thick reverberations through his entire body. His teeth jolted together, and he felt the ground leave him. He was on his back, staring up at the foliage. Birds cawed and took flight. A large fleshy hand reached down, seized Richard’s uniform and pulled him to his feet.

  “Don’t you know you’re supposed to shout to let lumberers know you’re there?” Ralph said.

  “I think we both know the answer to that,” Richard said.

  “You’re lucky it didn’t land on you.”

  “No, you’re the lucky one,” Richard wanted to say, but he held back and said nothing. Ralph moved to the felled tree and began hacking off the branches. He made slow, smooth movements, each blow could have removed a man’s limbs.

  “Do you have any contact with your brother?” Richard said.

  “Sure,” Ralph said. “All the time.”

  Richard blinked.

  “You do?” he said. “What kind?”

  “Let me show you.”

  Ralph spat in his hands and picked up a large double headed axe with one hand and swung at a wanted poster with Elian’s smirking face on with a venom and anger Richard hadn’t seen in many years. Within minutes the tree was felled.

  “Timber!” Ralph said.

  Richard smiled.

  “You’re a very strong lad,” he said. “Have you ever thought of a career in the Force? We could do with men like you.”

  Ralph shook his head and shrugged.

  “I like hacking things,” he said.

  “Which is why I suggest the Force. You can hack at people. Pretend they’re your brother. If you’re ever interested, ask for me at the police station. I’ll put in a good word for you.”

  “Thanks,” Ralph said.

  “Where do you suppose your brother went?”

  “How should I know?”

  “You’re his brother. You probably know him better than anyone.”

  “That might have been true once. But now he’s a stranger to us. He left our family to go off on his own adventures. I have no love lost for him.”

  “If you saw him again what would you do?”

  “Would you like another demonstration?”

  Richard smiled.

  “No,” he said, “that’s quite all right. Well, I can see you’re busy. The station will be in contact with you regarding the potatoes. And don’t forget my offer.”

  Ralph watched Richard go. Then he turned to a tree and carved two parallel lines with an oval on top.

  Chapter Fourteen

  He was staring at the roiling coal-black clouds overhead. He didn’t know how long he’d been watching them, but his eyes felt sore. The clouds seemed so close he raised his hand in an effort to touch them. He felt a twinge in his arm and lowered it back down. He sat up.

  He began to lean over to one side. He stuck out an arm to brace himself from falling over. He looked at his watch with groggy eyes, moving it back and forth until he could get a clear reading. He got up in stages. First he rolled forward, so he was on all fours. Then he got to his feet, his hands still on the ground before him. And then he pushed himself up onto his feet. He staggered a few steps before finding balance. He peered up and down the river that rushed past him, swelled with the recent hard rain. But for the moment the rain had stopped.

  He saw Jera lying face down on a rocky stretch of the riverside. He moved to her, fearing the worst. He turned her over and put his head to her chest. She was still breathing. He picked her up in his arms. Her head flopped back like it was boneless. She muttered something he couldn’t make out. He led her into the thick foliage leading into the jungle. He didn’t go in far. They might need the river to wash and fish in, or perhaps use to make a hasty escape if the Goleuni tracked them down.

  He came to a small clearing with a canopy of broad leaves above. A few drops of rain fell on their heads. Elian lay Jera down with her back against a log. She mumbled something, and then her eyes opened and closed as she dropped in and out of consciousness. Elian felt at the lump a
t Jera’s stomach. Puca’s warmth came through the fabric of Jera’s dress. He was fine.

  Elian went into the jungle and gathered as much dry grass, leaves and twigs as he could find, a pitifully small amount after the downpour. He made a ring out of stones to keep the fire off the damp earth and piled the dry leaves, grass and twigs onto it.

  He took out a fire starting kit from his bag. It was enclosed in a seamless box to prevent it from getting wet. He laid the kit on top of the stones and twisted a handle on the side, which drew the flint back. Once it clicked into place, Elian pressed the button and the flint was released. It smacked against a rough piece of sandstone, and a dozen sparks flew down toward the dry grass. None of them caught, so Elian did it again. The second time, one spark ignited the grass. Elian bent down and blew on it. Then he added more dry twigs and leaves as it grew.

  “Should we have a fire?” Jera said in a croaky voice.

  Her eyes were closed, but the words had been clear.

  “If we don’t, we’ll freeze to death,” Elian said.

  Jera pushed herself up to lean against the log with her back. She slid back down to the ground. Elian stepped forward to help her, but she held up a hand. She tried again, and this time she was successful in sitting up.

  “And I want hot food,” Elian said. “If the Goleuni find and kill us, so be it. At least I’ll have something warm in my belly. I’ll go get something to eat.”

  The damp jungle floor covered any sound Elian might have made. He took out his knife, knelt down and lifted up the bottom of a hedge. There was nothing there. He moved to another bush and lifted it. Again, nothing. On the third attempt he discovered a nestling pheasuck.

  It was a slow-witted bird with the head and feathers of a pheasant and body of a duck. He struck out with his knife and caught the pheasuck in the neck, killing it instantly. Its legs flapped out of nervous response. He carried it back to camp.

  Jera hadn’t moved a muscle.

  “That was fast,” she said.