Irritated her remembering was interrupted, she asked, “Did my father send you?”
“No, King Elan did not. Actually, I wanted to talk to you before the ceremony,” he replied as he shifted the staff to his other hand and placed his palm on the princess’ shoulder. “A great responsibility has been given to you. For so long Morgog has fallen from grace; it has fallen from the power it should hold. We need to return it to its Golden Age.”
“I understand my responsibilities; I also know what I am giving up,” she said and then walked away from the lord. “What I do not know is what I am placing myself into? Our people have always been an enemy of the Fletchings and now we are forming an alliance. This was thrown together in such great haste; there shall be power struggles from both sides. For one, who shall be in charge of the army? We have our Commander Avarice, and they have theirs.”
“I understand how you feel about the Fletchings. They are not our equals, but your father has made up his mind and as for the rest of your questions, do not fret over them,” he said as he winked at her. “They shall work themselves out.” Lord Caliber turned, leaving where he came in. “Come, your wedding is about to begin.”
Flaxen walked up beside the princess and told her, “I feel so uneasy around him. Do not get me wrong, he is a very good advisor.”
Virago watched the lord as he left and she said, “I think you worry too much.”
* * *
Within a nal, Edward and his escort arrived at the Capital and were led to the Great Cathedral. There Princess Virago dressed in her red flare wedding gown, waited before a priest. Flutes played a flowing melody as the Fletchings entered.
“I have never seen a wedding so hurried,” Ardor commented as fiery yellow robes were given to each of them.
“Do you think any of the other Kingdoms are waiting for a courtship to bloom before their marriages?” Han asked.
Ardor shook his head.
Pluck watched the prince as his face paled and heard with her keen ears his breathing and heart beat increase.
Edward looked ahead, saw the priest and the veiled woman, and questioned, “Is that her?” He swallowed hard, but it didn’t faze his dry mouth. “I could use some wine.” The more he thought about his wedding, the sicker he got. What did she look like? Why was she wearing a veil? Was she hideous? Did she look like Pluck? He repeated, “I could use some wine.”
“Not now, my lord,” Han said as the group moved forward in a wedding march in sync with the flute music. “There shall be plenty of time for wine later.”
Edward rubbed his hands. “I cannot see her,” he whispered and asked, “What does the princess look like?”
“Quiet,” Han commanded. “Now is not the time.”
“I feel ill,” Edward said as he stopped and held his stomach.
A few people seated in the pews murmured.
Han nodded to Ardor and each grabbed the prince’s arm as Han said, “The ceremony shall be over soon, my lord.”
They moved forward, and Edward’s knees weakened the closer they walked to the priest.
Princess Virago glanced at Lady Flaxen and Virago whispered, “He is handsome, but he is so pale looking. Are you sure he shall have many presents?”
“Yes, my lady,” Flaxen replied as she looked over the prince and giggled. “I believe he is nervous.”
“That or intoxicated,” Virago commented. “That would be my lot to marry a lush.”
“Maybe he is intoxicated by your beauty.”
Virago glared at her, not that Lady Flaxen could see for the veil.
“Oh...” Flaxen uttered as she bit her lip. “Your wedding shroud. He cannot see you.” She shrugged and said, “I know I am not the brightest. Please forgive this dimwitted servant.”
Lord Caliber sat in the front pew next to King Elan and Princess Jasmine, Virago’s younger sister. Lord Caliber glanced at the prince's men as he sensed a supernatural force, then he leaned to the King, and whispered, “Last chance to change your mind. You could choose Commery over Fletching and return Morgog to its Golden Age.”
“No, my mind is made up,” Elan answered.
Lord Caliber said, “As you wish, my lord.”
“I cannot breathe,” Edward said as he gripped Han’s robe. “We must stop.”
Ardor gave Han a worried look.
“A little longer, my lord,” Han spoke as he hurried their pace.
Pluck thought Edward looked as if he’d spew his breakfast. She had her doubts he’d make it through the wedding.
The group stopped in front of the priest, and those assembled, quieted. Han and Ardor walked the prince forward, released, stepped back, and prayed he would stand. The priest motioned for the princess to move beside the prince, and reluctantly she did. The priest cleared his throat, the flute players ceased their playing, and the priest opened his book.
“We gather here to witness a joining,” the priest started and continued, “One that the Creator has ordained.” He looked to the prince and asked him, “Do you take Virago to be your wife?”
Edward swayed, putting his hand to his mouth, looking a little green. The priest took a step back. Han poked the prince’s back with his finger, and Edward straightened, answering, “Yes.”
The priest shook his head, looked to the princess, and asked her, “Do you take Edward to be your husband?”
She glanced at the pale man, pouted, and then whined, “Yes.” Virago turned and cried on Flaxen’s shoulder, “Why? Why?”
Her father stood, but Lord Caliber convinced the King to take his seat.
“There... There...” Flaxen spoke as she stroked the princess’ hair. “It shall be over soon.”
The priest rubbed his temple, irritated by the high pitch shrill and then he said, “Then in the sight of the Creator, you are now husband and wife.” He slammed his book shut and said, “You may now kiss her.”
Pluck gasped inwardly. No! The princess couldn't have her kiss. Pluck feared moving as she felt herself pale. She hadn’t thought kissing would be involved in this ceremony and after all this time, this blubbering woman was going to receive her redemption.
Edward hesitated, stunned and still ill.
“Lift her shroud,” Han instructed.
Edward did and smiled, seeing Virago wasn’t a hag like he envisioned. His green coloring faded as he looked over her milky skin, blue eyes, long ebony hair, and a face of an angel. The priest cleared his throat and motioned for the prince to proceed. Edward leaned to her then still afflicted by nerves, kissed her on the cheek.
Pluck sighed. There was still a chance for her.
Virago and Edward stared at one another, neither sure what to say and as quickly as they were married, the couple along with their escort were ushered out of the Cathedral. Virago to her carriage, and Edward to his horse. Both traveled to the port, and the princess boarded the Dark Monarch and the prince the Breakneck and soon with the Sea Sprite and Waterswift, the four vessels sailed toward the Isle of Kismet.
Chapter Nine
Coblet’s Route
“My lord,” Captain Brine uttered as he looked up from his desk and stood. “You and your men please enter.” He motioned to chairs, noticing the prince looked peaked. Edward, Han, Ardor, and Melee sat and then Brine spoke, “As your spies have reported, Swelldom and Hort have a sun's cycle on us. There’s only one course we can take to beat them.” Brine paused, not sure to even mention it, then pointed to the map on his desk, and stated, “Coblet’s Route.”
“The way no man has ever returned from,” Ardor exclaimed as he shuddered. “There must be another.”
“None,” Brine replied as he looked to the prince. “My men are wary of going this route, but we shall sail it if it’s your desire.”
“As you said Captain, there is no other way. We shall take Coblet’s Route. Signal the Waterswift, Dark Monarch, and Sea Sprite to follow,” Edward ordered and then stood, swaying with the
ship and held his stomach still a little queasy. “I shall be in my cabin.”
“Aye,” Brine said then stared at the map as the others left. Drawings of sea monsters littered the area around Coblet’s Route. He shook his head, placed his hand to his temple, and mumbled, “Creator help us.”
Clear skies abounded as they set on their journey, and the first two sun's cycles were uneventful. Edward took the opportunity to rest and get over the horrible wedding experience. Everyone aboard seemed to enjoy the serenity, but all feared it wouldn’t last. The third sun's cycle during the latter part of the high sun, clouds scattered the blue sky. Below deck Pluck slept in her bunk soundly for the first time. She started to dream of a land where she would be accepted; it was a place that hadn’t seen war for hundreds of seasons. Pluck was drawn to this new place, but the dream faded as her body tingled as if it was asleep. A sense of urgency woke her, and she sat up, feline eyes wide with panic.
Something wasn't right, so Pluck jumped to the floor, wrapped her tail around her waist, grabbed her cloak, threw it on, and clasped it. The tingling persisted, warning of danger, but didn’t hinder her movement. Why did she feel this way? Pluck pulled on her hood, put on her gloves and boots, grabbed the Lux, strapped it to her back, and rushed on deck. It was like magic electrified the air.
A seafoam green Mist crept over the ships like a looming specter and thickened to fog. Pluck could barely see five steps past the bow as she pulled her cloak close in the cold air. Did the others feel this charge of energy? She walked up to the bridge and there Captain Brine had the wheel as Han and Ardor stood next to him. The captain was talking.
“We’ve entered the barrier that surrounds Coblet’s Route. From here we sail uncharted seas,” Brine said, then turned to his first mate, and ordered, “Have them trim the sails. Have two sailors stand at the bow to watch for rocks and shoals. Also if the lanterns will pierce this eerie Mist, signal the other ships to do the same.”
“Aye, captain.”
The ships traveled on pressed by the current as an eerie stillness abounded. Neither wind nor waves broke the silence and without the sun or stars, no one knew how much time elapsed or what direction they sailed. All they knew was the Fog.
“I don’t like this,” Brine spoke as he gripped the wheel. “We’ve journeyed through this demon vapor far too long. I fear we’re off course.”
“Ardor, go wake the prince,” Han commanded.
“There’s no telling how long we’ll have to travel before we break through. It could be endless,” Brine said as he shivered in the nippy sea air. “If we can’t tell what direction we’re going, we’ll venture the way all mariners have who dare trek this route.”
“There must be some way through,” Pluck spoke as she felt the captain’s alarm. She heard sailors talk of those lost at sea and didn’t wish to meet their fate. Nor did she desire to encounter the monsters told in their tales and as she recounted those myths, the fur on the back of her neck rose. “By Fletching!” Pluck heard an eerie sound in the distance and she said, “Listen...” She lifted her finger to her lips. All but her grim expression was shadowed by her hood. “I hear something.”
Han and Brine strained to listen and soon they also heard the roar of wind.
“What is it?” Han asked.
“I don’t know,” Brine replied. “It could be anything.” He imagined the worst and then said, “It sounds like it’s nearing us. Wake the ship,” he ordered.
“There must be a way to pierce this Fog so we can see what monstrosity approaches,” Pluck stated and then a gush of heat warmed her back in the chill. It wasn’t a tingling premonition like before, no this sensation was completely different; it was more physical than metaphysical.
“Your sword glows,” Han uttered as he pointed at her weapon as it pulsed. Each time the Lux glowed, he saw the blade through the scabbard down to the ancient writings engraved in its steel.
She reached up, unsheathed the sword, and it rumbled as the lightning white blade lit up the ship, casting shadows across their faces.
“Witchcraft!” Brine uttered. “Why does the weapon burn?”
“I don’t know,” Pluck answered as she examined the blade, felt an urge to lift it, and did so. Azure lightning shot from the blade, igniting the seafoam green Fog and the vapor parted, forming a corridor as sunlight broke through.
A gust hit Brine’s back and he ordered, “Full sails!”
The sailors scurried to work, letting the canvases fall to harness the wind’s power. The Fog lessened to Mist, revealing the other ships and together they traveled the corridor, clearing the barrier. As the last of the four ships cleared, the Mist, the whole Fog barrier, disappeared like it never existed. Clear seas surrounded them, and ahead they saw land. The first mate came on the bridge.
“Take the wheel,” Brine ordered, removing his telescope. “Does anyone hear that monstrous sound we heard earlier?”
Han shook his head as did Pluck.
“Perhaps it vanished with the barrier,” Han suggested.
“Have we arrived at the Isle of Kismet?” Edward asked as he, Ardor, and Melee walked up the steps.
“Don’t know. I wouldn’t think we would be there yet.” Brine handed the telescope to the commander.
Han took the instrument, peered into the eyepiece, and said, “I can’t tell you any different, my lord. We should anchor in the bay and give the captain enough time to get our bearings with the sextant.” He turned to Brine and questioned him, “What do you think? Is this agreeable?”
Brine started, “I think...”
“A spout!” a sailor in the crow's nest shouted.
Brine held up his hand, shading his eyes from the sun and looked to the sailor. The man pointed off their port.
“What does he mean a spout?” Edward asked.
“He means a water spout,” Brine told him as he searched the seas. “It’s an ocean bound tornado.” He spotted the cyclone and exclaimed, “It’s coming right for us!”
“Another one!” a sailor at the bow shouted.
“By Fletching!” Ardor uttered. “How can this be? There’s no storm.”
“Crell!” Brine yelled as he took the wheel. “More witchcraft!”
The sea churned as the spouts neared.
Brine looked to the Northern High Guard and asked, “Anything in your magic sword to combat these?”
Pluck stared at the Lux which had long since stopped glowing and she replied, “I don’t know.”
“What good is the weapon if you can’t harness its power?” Brine questioned as he turned the wheel sharply, trying desperately to avoid the spouts. “Sorcery!” He turned to Han and demanded, “Order him to wield his sword. We can’t avoid these things; it’s like they’re tracking us.”
Han didn’t look at Pluck as he stated, “I have confidence she shall do what she can.”
She? Ardor glanced over the Northern High Guard. Did Han speak of the sword? Ardor turned his attention back to the whirling menaces.
Pluck lifted the Lux, but the blade remained dormant, so she shook the sword as if to wake it. The closest spout slammed into the Waterswift. They heard sailors and High Guards shouting as they ran from the whirlwind. Even the horses who were trapped below screamed for the terror rocking the ship. Pieces of the vessel and men were sucked up into the vortex. The Waterswift tossed and turned as it wrestled with the funnel. The great wind beast prevailed, breaking the ship into large pieces, and the spout continued on unhindered by its fight with the Waterswift. The funnel headed for the Sea Sprite as the second spout hit Breakneck, their ship. The vortex stripped planks from the bow like they were paper, sending them flying. Men jumped into the sea to avoid the wind monster. The spout wrestled with the Breakneck, forcing it to ram into the Dark Monarch. The force cut a large gash down the side of the Breakneck.
In desperation, Pluck lifted her sword, shouting, “Stop!”
; The spout tore through the middle of the ship, making its way toward them. Pluck’s hood flew back, but no one saw her as they shielded their faces. She barely kept her eyes open in the torrent.
“STOP!” she screamed, but the sword remained lifeless. Pluck felt herself being pulled toward the vortex and grabbed the railing of the bridge as did the others. Her fiery-crimson mane whipped about as she covered her eyes with her sword arm before the spout swallowed them.
Chapter Ten
Wellspring
Waves rolled in, washing over a white sandy beach as the sun descended, nearing the western horizon and cast a tangerine glow over the blue-green waters. A jungle laid beyond the beach, bellowing with animals as a small creature emerged from the vegetation; it was a Trife. The rat faced creature stood three hands in height and short brown hair covered his head and continued down his back like an arrow. Long cream fur covered his monkey body, and his long hairless rat tail twitched with excitement. He wore a blue vest and had a burlap sack slung over his shoulder. His large dark brown eyes scanned the beach, noticing wreckage scattered along the shore. The Trife searched the jungle to see if he was followed, turned his attention back to the beach littered with possible treasure, sniffed the wind for any other danger, and slunk to a piece of wood. The Trife turned the broken plank over and found nothing of value when a glint in the distance from a large mass caught his eye. He ran to it ready to scurry into the jungle at the slightest hint of trouble. The Trife found a large creature faced down in the sand; it was large compared to his standards.
Quip what the others of his kind called him circled the stranger. She was furry like him but beige and catlike. He had seen creatures similar to her on his journeys, that is those few which brought him close to the Great City Shangra. Quip stroked her fiery-crimson mane.
“Soft,” he muttered and proceeded to search for the glint he’d seen. “What this?”
The stranger gripped a sword, and Quip rubbed his four clawed hands together as he mumbled to himself, “Weapon... Bring good price.” He hurried to the sword, trying to pull it from her grasp and he said, “Won’t budge...” He noticed the ancient engravings on its blade and knew it was magic and very valuable. Ecstatic with the find, Quip tried prying her gloved fingers from the sword. He had to have it.
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