Kings, Queens, Heroes, & Fools
Page 29
“In all of this, nothing has been said about what to do with Queen Shaella and her new dragon,” Lord Gregory said.
“Not true,” Mikahl said, with a stern look at Hyden. “The great wizard Sir Hyden Hawk has already sworn to fix the follies of his family. If there is one thing in this life I know I can depend on, it’s Hyden Skyler keeping his word.”
Had it been anyone else speaking to him in such a manner, Hyden would have probably throttled them. Mikahl was just trying to get under his skin and motivate him for what was to come. The tactless reminder of his oath was not intended as an insult. A dozen sharp remarks came to mind for Hyden to reply, but he chose to keep them to himself. He locked gazes with the High King, and with a nod of determination he said the only thing that was left to be said: “Aye!”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Phen wasn’t sure what he expected. Being a smart, well-read boy of fourteen years he obviously hoped to find adventure. The glory of success motivated him almost as much as his sense of duty. He felt that he had to stay with the Silver Skull. He had to make sure that the Dragon Queen didn’t get it. Hyden needed it. The consequences of his actions were all but forgotten when he slipped the ring on his finger and disappeared.
Twice now he could have snatched the artifact and thrown it overboard. It would have sunk to the bottom of the sea, as simple as that. But Hyden needed the skull to get into the Nethers. He had admitted his true reasons for needing the skull to Phen one night on the Seawander. Phen knew that he would have to wait until the zard ship docked somewhere before he could get it ashore. It was the only way, save for one: the dragon collar.
If he could get that, he could put it on and have the dragon attack the ship. He could get the skull and have the dragon fly him back to the Seawander. That is exactly what Hyden would do, he knew. The only problem with that plan was the wizard, Flick. Flick refused to take the device from his neck. Since he was invisible, Phen wanted to try to pick it off while Flick slept, but he couldn’t get past the complex magical lock the cautious wizard placed on the door to his cabin each night.
Phen was left with little to do other than hide, listen, and starve. He tried not to let the gruesome death of Brady steal his resolve. He kept his mind occupied by reviewing the spells he had memorized. The growing emptiness in his belly consumed his thoughts the rest of the time.
He eventually quelled his hunger with a brief and daring foray to the galley. There, a fat, grouchy, but luckily lazy zard-man was assisted by an even lazier young human cook. After getting his belly full that first time, Phen’s visits to the galley became regular events. He was glad that there were humans on the ship. Other than meat, humans and zard-men shared completely different tastes. The zard even ate their meat raw and didn’t mind if it started to rot and grow maggots. They ate beetle stew, and pickled spiders. Once, the captain let the ship drift in a school of eels. The zard dove from the ship and swam through the school with spears. They ate the eyes and the guts of the fish they brought back and left the white meat for the men. Phen had been so sickened from watching the lizards feast that he almost vomited. The sound of his retching nearly got him caught. If it hadn’t been for the ship’s lyna he would have been rooted out and thrown overboard, or stewed for the captain.
The zard ship, like any other ship, picked up rats where it docked and took on cargo. Zard food drew things on to the ship that were worse than rats. No typical cat could manage to keep the vermin from a zard ship. The zard used lyna, a feline creature very similar to the creature that had bitten Oarly when they first went into the cavern. These lyna weren’t huge like that. They were no bigger than a typical mouser, but they had the same prickly fur and unpleasant demeanor.
Phen theorized in his idle time that Barnacle Bones’s ship, and maybe some others that the great blue dragon had carried to the island, had lyna on board. On the isolated land mass, the creatures had thrived on the jungle’s lavish fauna, growing larger as their predatory needs demanded.
It was easy to see how they would. The smaller ones ate spiders, snakes, rats, and just about anything else that rode in the crates and storage bundles. The lyna that saved Phen was a little smaller than an alley cat, and though its tail tip sported sharp, hard spikes, its sleek scaly hide was only prickly if you ran your hand across it backwards. Phen, being the creative boy that he was, named the creature Spike.
Apparently, Spike could see Phen even when he was invisible. The creature slept in the cargo hold with the boy, amongst the smelly barrels of stored food items and water kegs. More than once, Spike saved him from the unfriendlies.
The unfriendlies were the poisonous spiders, brazen rats, and the things that slithered close while he slept. Spike also covered Phen’s noisy mishaps while he was moving around the ship. After a few days of interaction a bond had formed between the two of them. Once that happened, a link of familiarity opened up. Spike became Phen’s familiar, just as Talon was Hyden’s familiar. Phen relished the idea of it. After finding that Spike could halfway comprehend the zard’s hissing, smacking speech, in a halting feline sort of way, he grew even more excited. Now Phen could eavesdrop on the zard conversations and make some sense of them.
He didn’t learn much, only that the zard didn’t like the sizable black dragon flying so near the ship when it came around. And that they and their captain, Slake, didn’t really like the wizard. The zard did have a reverent sort of respect for Queen Shaella. She had placed Flick in charge of this mission and that was the only reason they followed his orders.
Phen spent some of his time exploring the link he and Spike formed. If he concentrated really hard he could see through Spike’s eyes and hear what the lyna heard. Through listening that way, he didn’t get Spike’s crude thought translation of the zard speech, though. To understand what they were saying, he had to let Spike listen and interpret his familiar’s thoughts. He gained the tiny bits of knowledge that Spike had in his little brain and Phen now knew the layout of the Slither from bow to stern and every nook and cranny in between. That was how he’d found the Silver Skull. It was in a hidden compartment in the floor of Flick’s cabin. The wizard had no idea that the hidden compartment stuck down into an open hold that had been left empty for this voyage.
Once, Captain Slake had crept down below and examined the skull. Phen was in the hold looking at it himself, debating on whether or not he should sink it. Phen was able to feel the snaky thoughts roiling off of the scaly green zard-man. Slake’s black-orb eyes were full of greed and lustful intention. Phen was terrified. He had to force himself back into a sticky tar-glazed corner and breathe without making a sound. The whole time his heart was pounding away in his chest like an oarsman’s drum.
Slake’s bulbous eyes landed on him for a moment. The sarzard froze, and a haze of fear swept across its strange gaze. The zard captain sensed Phen’s presence, or maybe smelled him. A long forked tongue flickered forth and tasted the air. Then Spike appeared from the shadows and roared, as if he were chasing an unfriendly into the hold. The sound broke the chill of the moment. Not sure if one of Flick’s spells, or some other strange human thing had caught him contemplating treachery, Slake hurried out, and as far as Phen knew, had never returned to examine the skull again.
Craving fresh air, and tired of crawling around in tight creepy spaces, Phen braved the open deck of the Slither a few times. He hoped to get a sense of how much longer the ship would be at sea. But each time he had come back down feeling as if the journey would never end. He was tired of being invisible. It made him feel like he was a ghost or a spirit. With the ring on, he couldn’t even see himself. He wasn’t sure he could stand the growing feelings of claustrophobia much longer. On his current journey to the open deck, he was relieved to see land on the horizon off to the right. Things would start happening soon, so he relished the lungfuls of thick salty air and mentally prepared himself to be ready for anything.
His plan was simple: if the cry of “Drop anchor” rang out, he would snatch t
he skull from its hiding place and try to carry it off the ship. From conversations he’d overheard, he knew that they were going to dock at Portsmouth, Westland’s second largest seaport. It would be crowded, and if he was lucky, the Slither would tie up to a dock instead of anchoring out in the bay. Hopefully he would be able to stroll down the gangplank carrying the skull, which would be invisible when he held it. If the ship didn’t dock, but anchored, he would have to deal with the opportunities that were presented. Invisible or not, he knew that he couldn’t just a row a dinghy to shore unnoticed.
Spike was another problem. The familiar link that had been created was a permanent one. Phen couldn’t leave the lyna behind, even if he wanted to. Spike was too big to ride on Phen’s shoulder. Phen thought about putting the creature in his shirt, but knew that his scent would probably kill it. He smelled so sharp these days that even the dullest zard made a bitter face when their tongues flickered toward him, and some of the men on board looked back searching for the source of the pungent smell when he crept past. He decided that something had to be done about it.
Phen opened a water keg where they were lashed in the cargo hold. It was as big as him. He stripped down and used his shirt as a rag to wipe the filth from his body. Then he attempted to wash his clothes. He knew that if the open keg were found it would cause a stir, but this close to making port he figured no one would panic over it. He doubted, anyway, that they would suspect an invisible stowaway of the deed.
Later, as he gazed at the land sliding slowly by them, he began to see homes, barns, and rocky pastures. He was growing excited, thinking that they were nearing Portsmouth, but he learned from the words of one of the men that it was only a small town called Midway where there was nothing but lumber and whores to be had. Phen knew from his map studies that they would pass Lake Bottom next. Not the stronghold, but the city. Phen knew that one of King Mikahl’s friends, one of the Summer’s Day brawling champions, had once lorded there as well.
He wished that he could see the keep from the ship, but it was a good way inland, up the river that flowed swiftly from the base of the roaring falls below Lion Lake. On the far side of that lake, Phen knew the Dragon Queen’s castle stood. His wonderment at seeing Westland for the first time was dampened by the knowledge that Portsmouth was still a day or more away. He was stuck on the Slither that much longer.
That night, Phen smuggled a bucket into the cargo hold so that he could wash the places he had missed. No sooner did he get started than a storm swept down upon them. The sea swelled and the zard ship leaned and twisted with the power of it. Phen had to fight to stay on his feet while trying to keep water from sloshing out of the keg he had opened. His efforts were futile.
Phen had the dagger Hyden gave him. It hadn’t been of much use, except for spearing dried meat from the table in the galley, and getting into the water barrel. Now, as the ship pitched suddenly, the dagger fell to the plank floor with a loud clatter. Footfalls sounded overhead, and then more loudly from the stairway outside the hold. As the faint illumination of his magical light extinguished, Phen realized that the floor was covered in his wet footprints. He snatched up the dagger and did the first thing that came to his panicked mind.
As the door opened, and the bright yellow light of a lantern cut through the gloom, Phen’s heart froze. A grisled seaman held the lantern out and squinted through the glare at an obvious trail of wet footprints that led from the now leaking barrel straight to where Phen was standing. Spike darted out of the door as the ship rolled, buying Phen a moment. He couldn’t let the man call out an alarm.
Phen threw the dagger across the shadows to the opposite corner of the cargo hold, drawing the man’s eyes that way. He cursed his luck because the man saw the wash barrel that Phen’s shirt was still soaking in. It was halfway between Phen and the dagger now. Seeing no other resort, Phen charged.
The old sailor looked curiously at the wet footprints that appeared, speeding across the floor at him. His eyes went wide the moment he realized that something he couldn’t see was making them. In a reflex, he swung the lantern just as Phen ducked a shoulder into his waist. The resulting collision caused the man to let go of the lantern as his breath was forced from his lungs. It sailed across the hold and smashed into an erupting ball of flames near the corner were Phen had thrown his dagger. The man fell back into the door and his head hit the jamb with a loud crack. Phen could tell by the odd angle of the man’s neck that it might be broken. He didn’t have time to think about it, though. The fire was starting to spread. More feet pounded the deck overhead, the crew on their way down to the hold.
The ship lurched and thunder cracked outside the hull. Phen fought his rising panic and charged toward the water barrel he’d opened. With all his strength he made to heave it over, but it wouldn’t go. He realized the ship was leaning the wrong way and took a calming breath while he waited for the next wave. Slowly, then with alarming suddenness, the Slither tilted toward the corner where the flames were starting to blacken the wood. Phen pulled and heaved and leaned, and finally the heavy barrel tipped and fell, dumping its water across the floor in a great splash. In the last light of the flames Phen found his clothes and dagger and huddled in the corner shivering with terror.
He’d killed a man. He didn’t have time to dwell on the deed, for several zard came storming in and began using the bucket to sling what water they could on the stubborn embers. Flick came down to investigate the ordeal as well.
“Someone left the barrels untied,” a man said to the wizard. Then a zard began hissing and clacking orders at the others until the ship seemed to drop out from under them. By the time everyone recovered, Captain Slake had leapt down with unnerving reptilian grace and was easing past Flick, who was still bracing himself in the doorway.
“Tie the barrels off, fool,” Slake hissed.
Phen understood the command without the aid of his familiar. He had been among them so long now, their strange language sometimes made sense to him.
“Why was he down here?” Slake asked. Spike darted through the doorway just then and earned a rough kick from the angry captain.
“He heard a noise,” one of the human crewmen answered. “Came down to see what it was.”
“Who left the barrels untied?” Slake growled.
No one answered.
“Is this a concern?” Flick asked the Captain. Slake nodded for one of his men to answer.
“One of the barrels came loose,” the man said. “Probably smashed old Grady into the doorway and caused him to lose the lantern.”
Just then Phen sneezed and all eyes jerked toward the corner where he was huddled. Phen couldn’t help it. He had held it in as best as he could, but it didn’t matter now. He was caught.
Another sneeze filled the intense silence. This one sounded so much like Phen’s that Phen had to look for its source. One of the zard held a lantern up and there was Spike pawing his nose. The lyna made the sound again for good measure. Phen turned back to see that all eyes, save for Slake’s, were staring at the creature. The Captain’s eyes were locked on him.
The sarzard hissed long and low, his tongue flickering out toward Phen a half dozen times. Phen felt that he was as visible to Slake as he was to Spike, but when Flick spoke to the Captain again his voice was harsh enough to draw those black orbs away.
“Take us to Kingsport,” Flick ordered. He touched the collar at his neck and snarled. “With this storm, and this,” he indicated the scorched corner and the water-soaked floor of the cargo hold, “I think it would be wise to get our queen’s prize to shore before one of your crew sinks us.”
“Something came aboard with that skull,” Slake hissed defensively.
“It’s cursed,” a human sailor added. Several of the zard hissed in agreement. One of them smacked out something that Phen understood as: “Ask the bone pirate that stole it from its temple and he will agree.”
Captain Slake’s response was, “Ask his spirit. It’s roaming our ship.”
/> After the exchange the crew made an extra effort to get the ship through the storm. The reminder of the origin of their cargo lent to the urgency. All sailors, even reptilian ones, were apparently superstitious. Kingsport was north of Lake Bottom, but well south of Portsmouth. Phen couldn’t recall the details from the maps he had studied, but he knew that Kingsport wouldn’t be nearly as crowded as the larger city. He gathered that they would be there by dawn, and after the cargo hold was left to him again, he fought the guilt he felt for killing the crewman, while trying to piece together some sort of plan for the morrow.
Chapter Thirty-Four
When Phen woke, it was well past dawn. The Slither was at anchor, and the Silver Skull of Zorellin was gone. The only stroke of luck that the panicked boy had was that he fell asleep in the hold under Flick’s cabin. A flat barge full of barrels was tied up to the ship and the crews were exchanging kegs and crates. If he had slept in the cargo hold he would have been trampled and discovered. At least now there was a way for him to get off the ship.
Phen grabbed Spike and cradled the lyna as he eased down the gangplank that spanned the space between the two vessels. No one noticed the dipping spring of his steps on the boards. They were all too busy. A few hours later Phen stepped off the keg barge into Kingsport.
The city wasn’t as small as he thought it would be. He was able to mingle into a crowd and find an alley. Once he was alone, he took off Loak’s ring and, with much relief, examined himself to see if he was still there.
He’d noticed that most of the Westlander men were wearing loose fitting doe skin pants and lace collared shirts of either light wool or a canvas-like material. He wouldn’t blend in with his plain brown apprentice robes, or even his under garments. Reluctantly, he pushed the ring back onto his finger, and with Spike trotting curiously at his side, he went off to find some clothes and some food.