Winds of Torsham (The Kohrinju Tai Saga Book 2)

by J P Nelson

  Hahry appeared to be determining whether or not to speak again, but then he replied, “Greybeard keep … what you say … record … put box. Box, no water inside. Find things, put box.” He drew with his finger dimensions about two-feet-long, one-foot-wide, nine-marks-deep.

  He suddenly changed the subject, “You play guitar?”

  Jha’Ley was surprised, “Uhm, yes sir. Some. Music was played often at home and I learned from mom and pop.”

  Hahry gave a look and tilt of his head to Klaus, who went into the adjoining room. He returned with an old guitar, well maintained and with fresh strings. It was made from a dark wood and was cut-away at bottom, allowing play of the bottom frets for a greater range of sound.

  Klaus handed Jha’Ley the instrument who took it reverently and held it like a treasure.

  Hahry said, “Greybeard leave, play much, teach me play. Greybeard you … how you say?”

  Jha’Ley was stunned, “My great-grandpa, you mean?”

  “Yes. You great-grandpa. You have.”

  “But … but what about you?”

  The old man grinned, “Learn make. Make many.”

  Jha’Ley was speechless. He caressed the instrument, this guitar, which once belonged to Captain Greybeard, before that he had been Captain Raul Vier, the most feared man on the seas … and he had been a guitarist … and he played this guitar. “I do not know what to say. Thank you.”

  Hahry replied, “No say, you play.”

  “I … I have not played in years.” He looked at his fingertips, they were soft. He wrapped his hand around the neck and fingered the chord of G, then C, then D 7th and an A minor. Shaking out his hand, he grinned sheepishly and said, “It will take a lot of practice.”

  Hahry gave an affirmative nod, “Practice, you play.”

  Klaus came out of the room with another guitar, a beautifully made instrument, and a violin. Fhascully was watching, then asked, “Uhm, if you please, do you have another one of those?”

  His mates looked to him in wonderment. Seedle asked, “Get out of here, do you play?”

  Klaus wryly remarked, “If he is a good friend of Master Muldoon, he plays. What is your instrument, if you please?”

  It was Fhascully’s turn to grin sheepishly, “What do you have?”

  “Guitar, mandolin, violin and banjo.”

  The excitement was clear on the naturalist’s face, “Banjo? I would be pleased to feel a banjo once more.”

  The evening went forward as Hahry, Jha’Ley and Serm played guitar, Fhascully played banjo, Klaus the violin, and Toagun produced a pair of harmonicas. Seedle even joined in by beating rhythm on the bottom of a kettle. It turned out Fhascully had a wonderful singing voice, as did Carlson. Dessi assured everyone he couldn’t carry a tune if it were speared upon his dagger, but he loved to listen.

  It was well past night’s middle when the men entered the top floor and climbed into blankets. Jha’Ley and Fhascully had sore fingers, but all spirits were high.

  The final notes of Klaus’s Tres Amonyo Incorda still lingered in the air as in the far off distance, a wolf howled into the still shining sun.

  Chapter 25

  THE NEXT MORNING there was no determining the lines under the covering of the top floor. A large circle, the four main points of the compass, and a square which encompassed the circle were clear, but otherwise … even so, those lines on what was once the roof didn’t make sense. Chalk up another mystery of the Ancients.

  Waking early and stripped to the waist, Jha’Ley performed Tai’Jhi in the snow as everyone watched from the porch, steaming mugs of tea in hand.

  Seedle remarked, “I could never move that slow.”

  Dessi replied, “Only when it is time for labor.”

  Without missing a beat, Seedle came back with, “That, my good sergeant, is what Marines are for.”

  Carlson shot the CPO an unvoiced indignant look as Dessi smiled and said, “Like slinging stones …” Seedle took a sip of tea, “… against a battleship,” as the sergeant casually slapped his friend in the back, and Seedle choked … spraying tea upon the snow.

  Jha’Ley walked to the porch rail, sweat glistening and steaming from his muscular physique, took a towel to wrap around his shoulders and asked, “Are you well Mister Seedle?”

  With one hand against a post, Seedle tried to answer as he coughed, but nodded his head instead as Toagun chuckled, Fhascully tried to hide a grin, Klaus showed a beam of approval, and the Marines looked as if nothing had happened.

  After a hearty breakfast, Jha’Ley outlined a rough map and his plan with Toagun over tea. “Captain Ervis is going to traverse the Bay for purpose of trade. At his service will be Mister Kravieu, who is, as you know, our political officer and a fine linguist.

  “Mister Fhascully will work from the Qua’Korr as well, as he is going to indulge in all manner of flora and fauna research.

  “Captain S’Getti and the Ubank will accompany me and the Clarise to Belmond Glacier for exploration. We plan to winter in the Nahjiuan Sea, at some port of which we are not yet certain, perhaps Sterine. Once the water is navigable, our course is the Elkomond Fjord system. Captain Greybeard was searching for a path toward a mountain called, Gadriel’s Peak. I wish to find it, and if possible follow it to said mountain.”

  Toagun raised a hand in pause, “Commodore … I’ve talked to men who have been in there, or knew those who have. There’s twenty-eight branches off the main course, which they say is over three hundred miles long by itself. All of it, and I mean all of it is deadly, every foot of the way.”

  His eyes reflected warning as he paused to let his words sink in.

  “The long strip of land on the east is the Pel’Fynqiuah Peninsula, where those men-who-eat-men, Hahry was talking about, live … in not too small numbers, I might add. Elves call them Sn’Yter-Guymar, a bunch of inbred, malformed scavengers who used to be human. They say they breed children for food.

  “Trolls, Windigos, and Nosells live there, too.”

  Jha’Ley replied, “I understand. But such is our mission. After the fjord, we return to the Bay for rendezvous with Captain Ervis. Then we seek out the northern passage outlined by Old Uncle en route home.”

  Jha’Ley looked Toagun squarely and added, “I am prepared to offer significant remuneration for your services as guide …” he pointed to the glacier, then fjord, then back to Johnstone, “… through this portion of our expedition.”

  Toagun stood up and back, looked at the outline upon the table, and drank his tea.

  Jha’Ley added, “As a matter of course, we will take you to whatever port with whatever cargo to begin your own quest … to find the Rim-Rock Road, I believe.”

  Toagun finished his tea, wiped his mouth, and said, “You’re crazy, you know that? And don’t pull a smile on me, I know all about you. I heard you stopped an arrow in mid-flight one time with that smile.”

  “It was not an arrow, it was a ballista missile, and it was two at the same time.”

  As Toagun poured a fresh tea he looked to Jha’Ley and chuckled with sarcasm, “Ri-i-ight … bullshit.”

  Carlson was in shock, he had never heard anyone talk to the commodore in such manner, even joking.

  Jha’Ley casually added, “Perhaps you can teach some of your sealer strategies to our Marines?”

  Toagun stopped and flashed a mean smile to Jha’Ley, “Oh … oh … oh … that was low, a really dirty ploy. Klaus told you I like to teach, used to be a special operations tactical instructor … didn’t he?”

  Without apologies, Jha’Ley was still bending over the table as he raised an eyebrow and coolly asked, “What is it going to be?”

  Those watching, or rather hearing, the exchange could feel the power of wordless debate as body language, expression of the eyes and face, the manner in which Toagun refilled his tea and Jha’Ley drank his own, carried an endless volume of communication.

  Toagun Sealer; master hunter, fisherman, and explorer, leaned against the wall with a mu
g in one hand resting against his other arm crossed upon chest, facing Commodore Jann Raul Jha’Ley; reputed as the finest battleship captain of East Orucean, now imbued by the most powerful country of same to explore these dangerous lands, still standing with hand on the table …

  Toagun took a sip, savored it and said, “You play a good guitar, but you need practice.”

  “Thank you. You the play harmonica pretty well yourself, keep practicing.”

  There was another long pause before Toagun said, “We’ll need some hellaciously sharp weapons. You have to cut a Windigo’s head off to kill it, and a cutlass won’t work, blades aren’t heavy enough. But first you’ve got to get ‘em down so you can lop their head off.”

  Jha’Ley gave a courteous nod of his head, “Done.”

  The Sealer gave Jha’Ley a long, studious appraisal, “I need at least one man who can dive and swim well.”

  “I know someone.”

  “Can he handle the cold water?”

  “He has been to one hundred and twenty fathoms.”

  Toagun was taken aback, “Shaels! No fooling?”

  “No fooling.”

  Toagun narrowed his eyes at Jha’Ley, as if trying to determine if the man was yanking his collar chain.

  Jha’Ley was still calm and bent over the diagram, “Anything else, Mister Sealer?”

  “A jug of my own Avalon Brandy, after, we get back here.”

  “I guess you are all out of excuses.”

  Toagun extended his cup to Jha’Ley, who offered his cup in return. Ticking mugs, they both took sup.

  Carlson was standing back in the room with a baffled expression. Leaning to Dessi he asked quietly, “Sarge, I do not get it. What is so important about this man? What just happened?”

  Dessi passed an incredulous glance to the man beside him, then waited a long moment before replying, “How long have you been a corporal?”

  “Just before assignment to the Ubank, sarge, about a month before casting off on this expedition.”

  Dessi looked to Jha’Ley and Toagun, then back to Carlson. With a touch of bite in his tone he asked, “Do you not remember your history in basic training? The Cualgon Incident? GMS Dearborn and the four-man-team led by Chief Toah A’Gunn?”

  Carlson turned a blank expression to the sergeant.

  “Toah A’Gunn … Toagun … Toagun Sealer?”

  It took a moment, but then the corporal gained a look of sudden realization, “Well I will be damned.”

  Dessi glared at the corporal, as he in turned, stared at the Sealer. The story was a textbook piece of work, and every Vedoan Marine knew it. Maybe Carlson was not as sharp as Dessi, but it had only taken the sergeant a little while to put two and two together. Also, he had been at the dinner when Toagun introduced himself. Maybe …

  “Corporal?”

  “Yes sarge?”

  “Did Captain S’Getti assign you this detail, or did you volunteer?”

  “Sergeant Corad recommended me to the captain. Why, Sarge, is there a problem?”

  “Just curious, corporal, just curious.”

  ___________________________

  The Clarise, Qua’Korr and Ubank left Fort William together, but Qua’Korr left the trio bearing west. Captain Ervis had a mission to establish trade relations for Vedoa with the people of Kohnarahs Bay. He and his crew were expecting to stay busy for a good year or so.

  Jha’Ley and S’Getti were off to learn what they could of Meinkutt, slicing through the water at a steady ten knots. The air was crisp and clear, the sea was for a time friendly, and the wind was perfect.

  Looking out over the rail at any point gave beauty for the view, but Jha’Ley was not looking. He was in a cabin with senior personnel from both ships, standing by tripod, the most current map provided by Vedoa displayed as he spoke and made reference with a pointer.

  All knew they had been commissioned to explore in the name of Vedoa, see what resources might be harvested, and attempt to find a better route to allow more frequent travel into the Bay, and even into the Nahjiuan Sea. But there was something else, another purpose which loomed behind them all. There were rumors, and some questioned why they hadn’t visited more ports to glean more knowledge of the arctic waters.

  The time had come for Jha’Ley to make full disclosure.

  “Gentlemen, Belmond Glacier is huge. Like B’Frios, no one knows if it covers an actual land mass, or is just a magnificent sheet of ice connecting the Itahro Mountain range with Meinkutt.

  “Cutting our way north into the ice is not part of the plan, but I want to scour the border in search of even the most remote possibility for continuing west. Our mission here is multi-fold; to search out resources for harvest, yes … establish a better route for trade into the north, definitely… but to open a way to sail about the world.”

  Jha’Ley noticed the startled looks around the table, but ignored them as he brandished the pointer with animation.

  “The V’Pohra Tanzhi is clearly a barrier for sailing east. But the Hoshael Mountains are equally as formidable to the west. Katie’s Point is at the northernmost end of the Pel’Fynqiuah Peninsula; there it overlooks the mouth of Nahjiuan Sea from the west.”

  He drew lines with the pointer, “From here, we can follow the Hoshael’s all the way down to the Argos ocean, around the west and then south, eventually culminating into Ba-Azor. Ba-Azor in turn reaches well into the Southern Arctic Circle and the Jm’Batti Sea. The southernmost point of Ba-Azor is Cape Nahkonn, around which no ship has ever been known to survive, much less sail.

  “Legend has it, there are dragons locked in eternal combat under the water around Nahkonn. Although the area is arctic, there is no ice in the nearby sea and the water is constantly angry. The more scientific minds suspect volcanic activity directly below the surface. Some sailors fishing in that vicinity have reported balls of fire shooting up from beneath the waves.”

  He drew a wide circle around the most southeastern point of the map, “Beyond the cape, weather patterns and the ever churning sea are so volatile no one tries sailing beyond here,” he pointed to a place just north of Nahkonn.

  “As for the Hoshael’s, the only records of anyone traversing to the other side are of the elves, and nobody listens to them. Talk of the lands Dsh’Tharr, Dsh’Nyarr, let alone a whole continent beyond called Nor’Gael is regarded as stuff of fable and legend.

  “From the frosty realm of Itahro, into Nahjiua, around the Plains of Shudoquar and its empire, past the Kilgore Range, continuing around the barbaric land of the Genoal Plains, branching into the Madeira Mountains and Veskallero Territory, to the Argos Ocean coast … to date, no one has traversed the Hoshael Mountains to the other side and returned to tell the tale.”

  As Jha’Ley spoke, he made eye contact with every man, as if this was a personal conversation just for him, “There is much speculation, and ancient maps exist, but there is no substantiation as to how wide those mountains are, or what may actually lie on the other side. The farthest anyone has gotten was an expedition in 4673 ED. One hundred and forty seasoned men from Charlamae headed west under the leadership of D’Tangus Alcetta, their objective … to find the lost civilization of Coas na’Ziuess and their cities of gold.

  “They went in at the southern point, where the Kilgore Range emerges from the Hoshael body, here, and according to Alcetta’s journal, they travelled from marker to marker along this path into the west-by-northwest.”

  Jha’Ley shook his head and rapped the pointer on the back of his neck, “I have not read this journal, but I know someone well who has, and they said Alcetta collected these markers from several sources over many years.” He shrugged his shoulders and continued, “Success is determined through preparation and research.

  “The Alcetta Expedition did not find gold, per say, but they were onto something. Only seventeen men made it back to the Kilgore entrance, many of who had extensive injuries. Of the seventeen, only six returned to Charlamae. One was disfigured for life due to burn
injuries; two others were declared insane and lived the rest of their lives in an asylum. When separated, none of their oral accounts completely matched each other, but the three written records brought back did. Alcetta’s Journal was among them.

  “They travelled over three hundred miles, deep into the Hoshael’s, before reaching a vast canyon several miles across,” He held his hands out wide, “with a length of indeterminable distance. They estimated the cliffs to be a mile down with a river of lava flowing in cascade fashion. Alcetta wrote his belief the river was even deeper, below sea level.

  “Along the way they found ruins of three cities built into the mountain walls. They saw a temple built of blood red rock, high on a plateau, statues of indiscriminate creatures the likes of which they had never been seen before, some of which were broken, but no gold. They even found a carving of a dragon …” he paused and embellished with a bit of dramatic gesture, “… a carving two hundred feet long, of the same blood red rock as the temple.”

  Jha’Ley shook his head in wonder and contemplation, “But no gold, at least, not what they may consider gold, or treasure. Of course, that is a philosophical discussion for another time. The point is, over three hundred miles into raw mountains, godsforsaken territory, and no end in sight.

  “Between the records and oral reports, those forlorn souls were attacked, killed, and many eaten by creatures we do not even have descriptions for. Alcetta, himself, was taken by what has been described as a huge manta ray flying out of the lava. Some are described as dragons, at least one dragon with multiple heads, could be three or four, giants make of living stone, even creatures of fire.

  One creature was described as looking like an octopus without a head. It crawled upon the side of the mountain, eighty feet across from tentacle tip to tip, and leaped one hundred rods to capture four men.

  “Our world had yet to be properly explored, gentlemen.”

  He walked back to the tripod, then pointed back to where the Hoshael’s meet the Argos coastline, “And it does not stop here. See it go west and south into the ocean, wa-a-a-ay down to the south arctic. Again, there is no break, no passage to the other side.”