by P D Ceanneir
‘In a nutshell, there is a strong concentration of contaminated Dragon Lanes that is causing gravity to distort in this area,’ said Havoc in a matter of fact way.
Everyone just stared at him with blank faces until Lord Ness said. ‘It’s the work of the gods.’ Then everyone nodded in understanding. Havoc looked at his old master who just shrugged, ‘usually the simplest answer is better,’ he said.
‘Captain Danyil,’ said Havoc, turning to the stoic man in front of him. ‘Have your men armed with spears, try and keep us away from those rocks, but push us away from them in a punting motion.’
The captain looked from the prince then to the rock stacks that were closing in on both sides of the ship. Because of the width of the Cybeleion, the stacks were close enough for his men to do as the prince planned. Without acknowledging Havoc, he turned and shouted out orders to his crew.
‘Sir Linth, Sir Whyteman,’ said Havoc to his two Paladin archers, ‘attach arrows onto twine and rope, see if you can find a way of looping it around some of the rock stacks so we can pull ourselves along.’ The two archers nodded their heads and set to work.
After half an hour, the plan was set into motion. Members of the crew steadied the Sky Ship through the rock stacks by pushing against them with long spears or billhooks. At the same time, Whyteman and Linth were successful in firing many long-range arrows into the rocks or narrow cracks. Thin rope, tied onto the arrows, was strong enough for a team of men to pull the ship through the valley before the arrows broke or the rope snapped; they all worked in unison and cheered when the momentum finally picked up.
It felt like an age as they floated through the eerily stillness of the Epicentre. The only sounds came from the creaking of the ship, the clinking of the spears on rocks and the tightening of the ropes as the crew pulled the woven hemp hand over hand. Then the valley walls disappeared into the mist and the rock stacks widened to such an extent that the spears could not reach the rock faces. The crew had the impression that the Cybeleion had now entered a larger area of the anomaly and the floating debris was more concentrated at this point.
The dwarf, Gunach, had taken a stint on the crow’s nest. He shouted out to everyone as soon as he saw the danger ahead.
‘Ships!’ he bellowed, ‘there are more Sky Ships ahead of us!’
Sure enough when everyone looked ahead as the mist cleared before them into strings of vapour, dozens of wrecked vessels loomed out of the cloud like ghostly behemoths. They had clung together as if a current had forced them into a huddle. Most were old and rotting, some newer, but storm damaged.
All were completely void of crew.
‘It’s a goddamned graveyard,’ mumbled Captain Danyil.
Chapter Three
The Sky Ship’s Graveyard
B
y the time it took the Cybeleion to reach the perimeter of the wreckage, the crew had now put on warmer clothes. Havoc, his Paladins and the Falesti Infantry were in their armour, while Tia and the Wyvern wore their light chainmail vests under fur jackets and fox-skin leggings.
The hulking ruins floated by with soundless grace. Some of the ships had been here for a long time and the wooden structures rotted from the dampness in the air. Others had floated too close to the stacks and dashed to pieces as if accosted by some tumultuous storm. Although the debris field was extensive, there were some vessels still intact enough to be recognisable. As the Cybeleion drifted closer, several of the crew pointed out features in the wrecked ships.
‘That’s the Gallerion, Captain Gosshead’s ship,’ said Captain Danyil pointing to a mast-less vessel covered in green mould. ‘I would recognise her outline anywhere. I saw it sail away fifteen years ago to go on a similar mission that we are on now.’
‘That’s not entirely reassuring,’ murmured Furran beside him.
‘I think we are missing the obvious point,’ said Linth, ‘if this flotilla was marooned here then where are their crews?’
‘Maybe they starved to death,’ offered Little Kith.
‘Well if that’s the case, then you will be the quick to starve with the amount of food you eat,’ Furran quipped.
‘Not if I eat you first,’ growled the giant.
Havoc watched as the wrecks floated by. The spearmen pushed away any that came too close as they stood in a line on both sides of the ship. This gave them a little more momentum, mainly because it was important to continue if they were to get through the Epicentre, and to keep the miscellaneous floating items from crashing against their ship.
‘They’re all galleys or small battleships,’ said the prince, ‘there are no cargo ships. Obviously they were trying to get through here for a reason.’
One of the vessels, a single decked galley, drifted close to them. It was intact apart from the bow, which had struck a passing ship or cliff side resulting in that section being torn from the main part of the hull. It was just about to come up to their starboard side when Havoc nudged Tia’s arm. ‘Let’s board her,’ he said, and then leapt with the Wind Element behind him to give him lift and momentum. He landed on a deck strewn with all kinds of twisted litter and wood from the splintered bow. Tia landed next to him and gave him a mischievous grin. The act of using the elemental powers caused static charges in the air, obviously a reaction to the Epicentre phenomenon. Havoc waved back reassuringly towards the Cybeleion crew as she drifted away from them to calm the outbursts from those on deck at their unplanned departure.
‘Keep going,’ he said, ‘we’ll catch up.’
‘Why are we here?’ Tia asked.
Havoc walked long-legged to the iron Orrinn Tower. ‘We need an Orrinn to get us out of here. I want to see if this one is in a state of entropy.’ He pulled out SinDex from its long black sheath strapped to his back and then hacked a neat V shaped hole in the top side of the iron Orrinn. The Sword that Rules sliced through the metal as if it was paper. He looked inside the opening he had made and Tia saw his broad shoulders slump.
‘Bad news?’ she inquired. The prince pulled out the large egg-shaped Orrinn from its wooden cradle. It looked grey and unimpressive. In fact, to Tia, it just looked ill. As Havoc held it in his arms, it started to crumble in his grip, like powdery glass.
‘Is that going to happen to the Cybeleion’s Orrinns?’ she said.
‘It will, if we don’t get out of here quick, that is.’
The momentum of the Cybeleion took her past the galley that the prince and Tia were investigating. Everyone watched as it disappeared out of sight behind another ship.
‘Can’t you just use the Wind Element to fill our sails, my lord?’ the captain asked Lord Ness.
‘No, too dangerous,’ the Ri shook his head, ‘if I use the equivalent energy we needed to move this ship, then the volatile energies in the Epicentre will become unstable and drain me to such an extent that I may die. The prince and Tia are taking a risk as it is using small amounts of the Rawn Arts just to leap to that vessel. I think the prince’s plan is to find an intact Wind Orrinn to push this ship forward. I hope he does.’
‘Yes, but won’t the energy from the Orrinns disrupt the energy in the Epicentre?’ Powyss asked.
‘Yes it will. I think that is why they have been pre-programmed to shut down. However, it may be our only option of getting out of here.’
Just then, there was a scream from the front of the ship and all eyes stared ahead of them. Some of the Wyvern were up front re-coiling the ropes into a neat bundle when an uninvited guest appeared behind them, wrapping itself around the portside outrigger mast.
‘What in the name of the gods is that thing?’ said Hexor who was standing with a spear halfway up the portside stairway that led to the bridge.
Something humanoid in shape, but unlike any creature they had ever seen, regarded them warily from its lofty perch on the mast. It was mostly grey in colour with a mottled dark brown chest and wispy white hair all over its back and arms, the head was a mismatch of large eyes of the brightest scarlet and a stubby bear-li
ke muzzle, including a pink nose and short sharp teeth. Stumpy black horns stuck out from the top of its head beside huge bat like ears, a hunched spinal ridge protruded from the white fur on its back and sprouting from the ridge was a pair of wide, grey, leathery bat-like wings. However, it’s most striking feature was it’s legs, or rather lack of them; instead the legs had evolved into two long scaly snake tails, which it was using to cling to the outrigger mast.
‘It’s a type of Shenlong,’ marvelled second officer Lung, ‘commonly called a Sylphgiest.’
‘Is it dangerous?’ said Furran, as he watched the thing look his way as he spoke and gave off a raspy hiss; the red eyes were wide and hungry looking.
‘Not really, although I’ve never seen one as big as this and this far south, they are usually scavengers, carrion feeders, and are only dangerous if they are in a large pack.’
Just as Lung finished speaking, the silence of the Epicentre was rudely shattered by loud yammering and caterwauls from all around them on the other Sky Ships. The Sylphgiest bobbed its head up and down and made the same noises.
‘Only dangerous in a large pack, you say?’ moaned Furran, ‘I think I know what happened to the crews of the other ships.’
When Havoc landed on the next neighbouring ship he suddenly felt lightheaded, dark spots mushroomed at the edge of his vision and he shook his head to get rid of the dizziness. Tia landed behind him and groaned as sparks of static leapt around her head; she fell down on one knee and breathed in sharply through gritted teeth at the pain.
‘Oh, I feel terrible...’ she said.
‘Yes, the Epicentre is draining our strength; I think its absorbing Rawn energy. We shall have to keep the jumps to a minimum.’
The war galley they landed on was small and relatively intact. Moss grew in patches on the slick deck and the horizontal sail hung loosely from its moorings, outriggers were still unfurled and, thankfully, still attached to the thick arms of their masts.
‘This ship looks like it is in a good condition,’ said Havoc, ‘let’s hope the Orrinn is as well.’
They both walked forward towards the Orrinn Tower, which sat at the centre of the vessel, debris of various sorts littered the deck, helmets, swords, shields and discarded armour. Bundles of rope and broken water butts lay amongst other unrecognisable clutter that sprawled over the ships aft end.
‘There was a fight here,’ said Tia as she flipped over a shield with her foot to reveal a large brown patch dried into the planks. ‘Blood stains everywhere.’ Havoc looked also; he saw long smudges of brown where something had dragged the bodies along the deck, leaking fluids.
‘Well then, at least we are not intruding,’ he said to Tia.
Tia giggled. ‘You can be quite macabre at times, you know that?’
‘I have my moments.’ Instead of cutting the Orrinn Tower with his sword, he lifted himself up over the edge to peer inside the iron cylinder. ‘We’re in luck, there is some corrosion on the surface, but it appears to be intact.’ He let himself drop from the tower.
‘With any luck we can use it to...’ but before the prince could finish the sentence a loud mix of yelling, screeching, and howling animal noises drifted over from the same direction as the Cybeleion.
‘I hope that is not the souls of the original crew coming to reclaim their ship,’ said Tia
‘I very much doubt it.’
The Cybeleion drifted through the debris field slowing with every creeping yard. The crew stood their ground as the captain ordered them into battle order. The small group of Falesti Infantry formed into a tight row along the port and starboard side rails, full-length shields with their polished steel bosses in the centre, linked side by side so not a chink of light got through, spears resting on the rim ready to poke and impale the enemy. The Paladins calmly walked up and down the rows in support.
Whyteman, Linth, and the Wyvern Filial took up positions bow and stern with their bows notched, everyone watched the Sylphgiest flying around the ship, looping in and out of the swirls of mist that they made with their large grey wings.
‘Save your arrows until they attack,’ ordered Whyteman. The creatures were watching them warily, screeching, and howling at each other, but none attacked. Some had taken up arms, mostly spears and swords that they waved about as if in a victory celebration.
‘I have a strange feeling this is going to be messy,’ said Foxe as he strapped up his helmet’s leather chinstrap.
‘Who for, us or them,’ asked Little Kith, limbering up his shoulder muscles while swinging his axe. Foxe grinned at him. The question was a rhetorical one from the giant so he did not answer. He watched as his friend hefted the double-headed axe by the thick handle and manoeuvred it around his body, left and right, in figure of eight swipes.
‘Yes,’ Foxe grinned to himself, ‘Very messy.’
Tyban stroked Mirryn’s chest feathers to calm her, the red kite had not moved from her perch on the compass table next to the helm. She continuously watched the gathering Sylphgiest swarm around the horizontal mast and twitched her wings as if to fly away from danger. Chichi was just the same, he clung onto Tyban’s neck tightly, causing red welts to appear under his chin. The lemur chattered away in his ear and the first officer made soothing sounds to both animals as he tightened his dagger belt.
Suddenly, Mirryn stopped twitching and hopped off the compass table. She glided to the bow mast that sat at an angle on top of the figurehead of the Earth Mother, (a crude wood carving of an ample breasted woman with long hair) she landed on the mast and started squawking with a high-pitched keening sound until those on the bridge looked her way.
Lord Ness and Powyss soon joined Tyban, but it was Velnour, standing at the top of the starboard stairway, who saw it first.
‘There!’ he pointed off to the right, ‘a glow in the fog up ahead.’
Sure enough, several orange circles of light leached out of the mist. It was fires burning brightly, but their flames were scattered by the mist creating an indistinct smudge of diffused light. As the Cybeleion glided closer, the crew could just make out a ship with its sail on fire. If the sense of sight was useless in this void, sound was not. Above the jabbering calls of the Sylphgiest came the sounds of metal on metal and shouts of fighting men.
As they closed the distance, they could see that it was small Sky Ship about the size of a Hoath Birlinn with its sail and masts burning to tatters. About a dozen men clustered together on the deck, armed with sword and shield, desperately fending off dozens of the attacking Sylphgiest.
Danyil judged that their course would take them past the other ship’s port side with a few feet to spare, but his concern was for the survivors on board the beleaguered ship and for the safety of his own crew.
‘We have to help them,’ he said.
‘If we do, sir, we will lose forward momentum,’ informed Lung.
‘Damn it, we shall have to worry about that later. Order the men to throw grappling hooks and pull the ship closer.’
Over at the stern of the Cybeleion, Whyteman could just make out the bow behind the waves of flowing mist and the soft glow of flames on the other vessel. Suddenly, his attention shifted to a loud tearing sound above him. He stepped out from behind a vertical row of ropes and cables attached to the port side mast and saw a long rusty dagger slash a hole in the horizontal. The head of one of the creatures poked through the gap and it ripped it further to give itself more room to fall through the tear. Whyteman fastened an arrow to the tendon string of his lime green bow and took aim, the Sylphgiest made it to the deck with a loud thud and a white feathered arrow protruding out of its neck.
‘Stand to!’ he shouted to his group, ‘here they come.’
‘This is not good,’ said Tia as three of the Sylphgiest flew around their wreck, their wingtips forming vortices in the mist. Another landed on the bow, its serpent legs coiled under it so it could slither forward much like a hunting snake. It held the sharp end of a broken spear in one hand and a sword in the
other, the grey white hair on its hunched back bristled at it crept along the wet deck, the red eyes flicked from Havoc then to Tia in turn. The thing bobbed its head up and down emitting a jabbering call from its mouth, revealing sharp yellow teeth as it did so. The chill air added its breath to the mist.
The three in the air landed on the ship, one on each side, the other behind them on the stern. Tia gripped her sword with two hands and stepped into the attack, being closer, the Sylphgiest behind them rushed forward with a battle-axe, Tia ducked under the swing and disarmed it by taking off its arm followed by gutting it with a downward sweep. Bright red blood splashed over the old stains on the cold deck. The other three in front of Havoc hesitated as they watched their companion die. They bunched side by side and screamed together in a long undulating cry. The prince allowed his alter ego to manifest just for a moment and the flesh of his face paled instantly as the Blacksword opened his grinning mouth to yell at the creatures in a harsh roar. The three Sylphgiest flapped their wings in alarm as the sunken black eyes fixed them with a malevolent stare. They backed off and flew away mewing piteously as they retreated into the distance.
A startled Tia watched as the face of the Blacksword gradually faded to reveal the healthy pallor of the prince. The grin replaced by a friendly smile and the green eyes of the prince could just be seen under the arched rim of his helmet. Because the Epicentre nullified the effects of Orrinns, it deactivated the Earth Orrinn on the Sword that Rule’s pommel, so Havoc’s armour did not change to black and no cloak metamorphosed out of the debris that littered the deck. As a result, the Muse Orrinn also shut down and the prince realised this too late as he saw the startled reaction on Tia’s face. With no Identity Block in force, she could now see Havoc and the Blacksword were one in the same.
‘I knew it!’ she gasped, ‘the truth of the Blacksword was there in front of me and I did not see it, but I knew it. How is it possible that you can be a different person with the same body?’
