Rune of the Apprentice (The Rune Chronicles)

by Jamison Stone

  CHAPTER XXI

  As Marlen cleared everyone’s plates, Domadred looked away from Luka and spoke to Nara, Fa’ell, and Aleksi. “I know my officers well—they all enjoy a strong drink and a good smoke. But what of my guests? Would you care to join us in some of the finest whiskey and tobacco that Terra has to offer?”

  Nara raised his massive arms and, leaning back in his chair, placed his hands behind his head. “Captain, the only proper way to end such a fine meal with such interesting conversation would be for some single cask and a good rolled smoke. Sadly for the nobleman, I am a fast drinker.”

  “We have at least one taker,” Domadred said, smiling. “Fa’ell, would you care to enjoy some whiskey and a cigar as we continue to listen to Luka’s belittlement and condescension?”

  “Only whiskey for me, Captain,” Fa’ell answered. “The nobleman has been blowing enough smoke to cloud the room, so no need for me to add more.”

  “Spoken like a true lady. And the young Aleksi, what say you, son?”

  “I am not particularly familiar with cigars . . . ,” Aleksi answered, not taking his eyes off Luka.

  “A whiskey, then, and half cigar,” Domadred said. “I’m sure that Kairn will be nice enough to assist you in its lighting.”

  Lastly, Domadred turned his gaze to Luka. “And you, Northern Lord, do you wish to partake of these last gifts before I decide your fate?”

  “A cigar and a good drink are wonderful companions to both peacemaking and killing, Captain. How could I possibly refuse you?”

  With the table cleared, Marlen brought out an unmarked bottle of amber liquid and an ornately carved wooden box. Next he fetched a tray of unique glasses. They had a thick base but the actual hollow of the cup was only a small rounded bulb. Elegantly curving upward, the tapered mouth was just wide enough to fit one’s lips and nose upon drinking.

  Marlen set the glasses before each at the table and, as he poured the whiskey, Domadred opened the ornate cigar box. One at a time, the captain removed a cigar, cut its end with a snipping utensil, and then passed it around the table. Once nearly everyone had one, Domadred took out two much smaller cigars, cut them, and handed the first to Brayden and then the second to Aleksi.

  “Marlen,” Domadred said, putting his cigar into his mouth, “would you be so kind as to open the gallery?”

  “Yes, Captain.” Marlen moved to the rear of the room and then ceremoniously opened the large windows. Aleksi felt the cool ocean breeze glide across his skin. With the windows open, he could clearly see the silvery glimmer of the moonlight reflecting in the ship’s frothy wake. Night had descended over the ocean and the view was profound. The moons’ glittering brilliance atop the glowing blue-black waves seemed to stretch behind them into a dark eternity.

  After pulling something small from his pocket, Domadred mysteriously lit his cigar with several strong puffs. The captain then handed the object to Valen on his left.

  “A Runic pocket flame,” Nara exclaimed. “I’ve never actually seen one up close!”

  “They are quite rare,” Domadred said, smiling. “We have others on board. But this one is my personal favorite.”

  “I would love to see it!”

  “Please do. You all may use it to light your cigars.”

  Cigars were lit as the pocket flame was passed around. After a moment the Runic tool came to Luka. The nobleman held it up against the lamplight, inspecting its engraving. As he gazed at the ornate metal, his mannerisms were like a coiled viper’s—the embodiment of control and deadly patience.

  “Ahh, the craftsmanship of the Western Masters’ Academy,” Luka said. “What a wonderful piece; I do so enjoy the historic artistry of the Masters of old.” Domadred nodded his head as Luka continued. “And although I am of the North, I have to be honest”—Luka’s green eyes flashed to Aleksi—“I have a special fondness for the ones which hail from the Eastern Academies.” Luka lit his cigar and passed the tool to Aleksi. “Here you are, son. I’m sure you know how to use a Runic tool, but you might want to ask the sailing master to help you manage that cigar.”

  Taking the instrument, Aleksi eyed Luka darkly. Before the youth could say anything, Kairn leaned in close. After a moment of coaching and a bit of coughing, the tip of Aleksi’s cigar glowed with a fiery-red ember.

  Soon all at the table except Fa’ell in her elegant gown held a lit cigar. The smoke wafted up but was carried out the windows by the evening’s gentle, salt-laden breeze.

  “Well, with that taken care of”—Domadred paused to take a long draw from his cigar, then blew the smoke before continuing—“what was it that you were saying, Luka? Something about an offer of Northern peace and pardon?”

  “Yes, Captain,” Luka answered before taking another sip from his glass. “But first, let me thank you for the cigar and fine drink. You are truly as generous as your reputation. And, if I am to fully understand the extent of your generosity, I do in fact believe that I have until the very end of dinner to speak of this offer. Before you make good on your threats, that is. Correct?”

  “Indeed.”

  “Well then, before I speak further on the matter, I wish to ask the young Aleksi a simple little something.”

  “Excuse me?” The captain’s cigar hung in midair.

  “Well, the boy is a bit of a mystery, isn’t he? He is so young and so skilled, yet so far away from his teachers. Terra is a dangerous place for a young student who strays from his elders, and I would like to know what he plans on accomplishing out here all alone.”

  Aleksi shifted in his chair, and although his right hand held his cigar, his left hand slowly crept to the hilt of his blade.

  “You must be joking,” Domadred said in disbelief.

  “It’s just that I’m confounded, Captain,” Luka continued, blowing smoke up toward the ceiling. “And the boy’s eyes are green, so I, a Northern lord, feel some responsibility for the lad and simply cannot help myself. Especially considering the fact that he has recently fallen in with outlawed pirates who threaten peace messengers at the dinner table.” Domadred shook his head as Luka continued. “Honestly, I am very curious to hear his response to one simple question before, as your quartermaster stated earlier, things get complicated.”

  “Your time,” Domadred said gruffly as he tapped ash from the tip of his cigar, “in fact, much like your life, is your own to use as you see fit. Do not waste it.”

  “Wonderful. Thank you, Captain.” Luka turned his gaze to Aleksi. Aleksi’s Rune tingled and Luka’s eyes glittered as he continued. “So, son, what have you to say for yourself? Why have you forsaken your home and Master? And do not lie; I will know.”

  Aleksi remained silent and eyed Luka coldly as his grip on his sword’s sheath tightened.

  “Answer him, Aleksi,” Domadred said curtly. “Let’s get this done with.”

  Aleksi looked over at Domadred in surprise.

  Domadred pointed his cigar at Luka. “Out with it, son; I am losing patience with this little game.”

  Aleksi cast his gaze back to Luka and spoke in an icy tone. “What makes you say, Lord, that I have forsaken anyone?”

  “Just answer my question,” Luka said with a slight smile as he tapped ash off his cigar onto the table. “As you can surely tell, we don’t have much time.”

  “I would never betray my Master,” Aleksi answered carefully. “He has taught me well over many long years. I don’t know what you are referring to . . .” Using his thumb against the scabbard, Aleksi silently drew his blade under the table—after a centimeter, he stopped its movement. Having the blade removed from its sheath even a little would allow him a lightning-fast strike.

  “Oh, certainly there is more to the story. Tell me why you left your school so suddenly if you had not also abandoned your Master.”

  Aleksi suddenly felt a strange feeling come over him. His body grew numb and his lips moved as if the words were speaking of their own volition. “I . . . I have been taught by many,” the youth said, greatly
surprising himself. “Yet there is only one I would ever call Master.” Aleksi could no longer feel his hands and his head started to spin. “And it is his trust that I have never betrayed.” Aleksi’s focus blurred and he could hardly believe the words were coming out of his mouth as he continued. “In fact, I follow his bidding even now.”

  “Ahh. So I understand, then,” Luka said, smiling. “You mean to tell me you did not flee your Master, you fled another whom you deemed unworthy.”

  “. . . That is correct.”

  “Perhaps you have just not found the right Master, my boy. There are others out there who can teach you, and I promise they would not abandon you like the man you search for now.”

  Regaining control of himself, Aleksi remained silent.

  “Well, it all makes sense, then; my curiosity is sated!” Luka raised his whiskey glass high in a mock toast to Domadred and took a long sip. “I am so fortunate that the Captain was generous enough to grant me several free moments so that I could understand the boy’s motives.”

  “Enough of this, Luka,” Domadred growled, standing slowly. “You walk a fine line and on either side you face your own ruin. The evening’s entertainment is over.”

  “No, it is you, Domadred, who faces his own ruin. You are fooling no one but yourself!”

  Steadily recovering his mind, Aleksi felt his Rune pulse and he deftly grabbed the sword at his hip. As his muscles coiled to attack, he suddenly felt a hand grip his shoulder. Surprised, the youth looked to his left and saw Kairn shake his head knowingly.

  “Not yet, Aleksi,” Kairn whispered. “Wait for the Captain’s word.”

  “Damn it, Luka,” Nara said, as he violently smothered his cigar into an ashtray. “If you have a proposal, come out with it! You are acting like a royal ass and even I am tired of listening to your drivel.”

  “Well, I am glad to know that you feel no need to protect me,” Luka said, blowing smoke at Nara dismissively, “out of some lost sense of old honor, Lionman.”

  Nara folded his massive arms and clenched his jaw.

  “Although, fallen son of Iksir,” Luka continued with a smirk, “I suppose it would be very sad if you still felt you had any allegiance to the North after you were exiled by your father, Raegnar the High Lord of the North-East, with such disgrace!”

  “You scrawny fool,” Nara shouted, bolting upright and knocking back his chair.” I will rip the tongue from your skull!”

  “No, Nara!” Fa’ell said, jumping up and holding him back. “Not yet.” Nara’s light-green eyes blazed in anger and his massive muscles rippled—but the large man advanced no farther.

  “You and Domadred make a fitting pair indeed,” Luka said, smiling as he looked up at the monolith of muscle towering above him. “You both have lost so much but also have so much to gain if you accept Asura’s offer.”

  “Luka, you have done nothing but show disrespect to my ship, my crew, and now even my guests.” Domadred drew his sword, pointing the tip at Luka across the table. “You will die for your insolence!”

  “Captain, wait!” Kairn said, as the other officers drew their blades. “We must hear him out! Even when he first boarded he spoke of a peace treaty—what if he is telling the truth?”

  “This is your final chance, Nobleman,” Domadred said with eyes ablaze and sword aloft. “Say your peace now lest I cut out your heart and cast you into the sea!”

  “I am here,” Luka answered, leaning back in his chair, “to offer a declaration of peace between the crew of the Illusive Diamond and High Lord Asura, commander of the Northern Empire. Asura offers to end all conflict with the Resistance of Vai’kel and vows to return you to your rightful position in the Western Thalassocracy. If you had met with me privately like I had asked, and not disrespected me so greatly, I would have told you of the offer outright.”

  “Offers made by a deceiver,” Domadred said, making a small circle with the tip of his blade, “are as valuable as salt water to a sailor. Tonight, the leviathan will feast on your flesh!”

  “Asura has done a great many things some deem unethical,” Luka said, taking a puff from his cigar. “But he has never broken an oath. He, much like you, my good Captain, is no liar.”

  “My ass, he is no liar!” Marlen said, slamming his fist on the table. “He betrayed all of us and now rules the North with an iron fist.”

  “Marlen, you chose your own fate,” Luka said dismissively. “Even now, Lord Asura does not understand why you betrayed him during the revolt and still hold such hostility in your heart.”

  “Only a fool does not understand Marlen’s anger,” Domadred said furiously. “Liar or no, it was Asura who stole everything from him! In fact, it was your lord who brought us all to ruin!”

  “My lord did that?” Luka said in mock confusion. The nobleman shook his head and held up his arms with cigar in hand. “Captain, I thought it was Lenhal who killed the prime admiral, framed your crew, and then cast you and your men out of the Western fleet. Was it not he who bedded your wife, the chair of the Warden Women’s High Council, before he had her killed?”

  In a flash, Domadred threw a dagger with his left hand. All in the room leaned back in surprise as it flew through the air and thunked behind Luka, pinning his cigar to the wall.

  “Nobleman,” Domadred said coldly, still holding his sword aloft, “do not think that just because you offer treaty I will not gut you.” Domadred wistfully waved the tip of his blade as he continued. “Like the morning catch, you will flail upon the planks of my deck as I spill your insides for all to see.” Kefta drew a long, wickedly curved dagger from his belt and placed it on the table with a wide grin as Domadred continued. “Choose your words carefully, Nobleman, or the last thing you will hear is the gashing of your flesh and the throaty cheers of my crew.”

  “Was it not the saying of your former commander in the Unification War,” Luka replied calmly, “that ‘only a fool hears truth and becomes offended’?” There was a long and uneasy silence before Luka continued. “I speak the truth, Captain, and you know it. Therefore, do not take offense. Lenhal was the one who wronged you, not Lord Asura. In fact, my lord wishes to grant you justice and vindication—he wishes to grant you revenge.”

  “I do not need Asura to kill Lenhal!”

  “I wouldn’t be so certain of that. However, if you accept Lord Asura’s peace, not only will he allow you to exact your vengeance, but more importantly, once the deed is done, he will instate you, Domadred, as prime admiral of the Western Thalassocracy. A thing I guarantee that you could not do on your own.”

  “And why would he ever want to do that?” Domadred retorted.

  “Captain, my mission is multifold. I have come to offer a truce not only between Asura and your crew, but also with the leaders of the Resistance. Moreover, Asura plans on using you as his negotiator—for who better to broker that peace than a member of the Resistance and prime admiral of the Western fleet?”

  The officers at the table were taken aback at Luka’s words, and both Valen and Mareth lowered their swords.

  “You’re lying,” Domadred said softly.

  “We all know that what happened to you and your crew was an atrocity, Domadred. Lord Asura wishes to make things right for you and your men. He also wishes to find peace in Vai’kel and end this petty squabbling with the Resistance. I would have told you all this sooner had you only met with me in private like I had asked. It’s a shame you and your crew don’t have better manners. Your years in exile have undoubtedly hardened you.”

  “Such an offer,” Domadred said, swallowing hard, “comes at a high price, no doubt.”

  “The price is worth the reward, Captain.” Luka turned and forcibly removed Domadred’s dagger from the wall. He plucked his cigar from the dagger’s tip and, covering its new incisions with his fingers, took a long draw. Luka blew smoke up to the ceiling as he continued. “As I’m sure you know, Lenhal searches for you even as we speak—with the fever of a corrupted Arkai, he hunts for Saiya. But, more
importantly, Lenhal is not the only one who wishes to find the High Priestess.”

  Luka paused, taking another draw from his cigar. “Captain, I know you want revenge. If you agree to my terms now, I will, as a show of good faith, deliver Lenhal directly into your hands. And then, once I send word to Asura, he will have your name cleared and your ship and crew reinstated in the Western Thalassocracy. First, I only ask the whereabouts of—”

  “It is not that simple!” Domadred growled.

  “Captain, don’t underestimate Asura’s power and influence. You know what he is capable of. All you have to do is align yourself with him and agree to negotiate his peace with the leaders of the Resistance, and you will have your former titles restored and your riches returned. Even better, you will become prime admiral of the Western fleet!”

  Domadred lowered the tip of his sword and the officers looked at each other keenly.

  “There is one more thing, however,” Luka said, sighing as he set down his mangled cigar. “It has come to Asura’s attention that you know the whereabouts of Saiya. Asura wishes to know the High Priestess’s location and then provide her safe passage to the Northern capital of Erithlen. There are some things Asura needs to discuss with her. In addition, he will provide her safe haven until everything with Lenhal has been played out.”

  “Discuss?” Kefta asked. “That sounds like a kind way of saying that you will harm her.”

  “Certainly not, boy!” Luka laughed. “Show some respect for your betters. Saiya is a young, celibate priestess devoted to High Arkai Aruna. Her safety is of the utmost importance, and neither you nor the Resistance can protect her from Lenhal and his searching fleets. It is only a matter of time before he tracks her with his Runes and kills her. Until Lenhal is dead, that young woman is simply not safe.”

  “But why the change of heart?” Domadred asked, shaking his head. “Lenhal and Asura signed a peace treaty just four short years ago. It just does not make sense. Why would Asura want him dead now?”