by J P Nelson
Fhascully grabbed Yeau’s arms, then without waiting for an answer ran to the companionway, went down by sliding the hand bars rather than taking a step, calling out to everyone as he ran the length of the deck, “Kravieu … where is Kravieu?”
The wounded were dispersed, but the dead were directly in the focsle. A man tried to catch him saying, “Sir, he saved our---”
Another said, “Mister Fhascully, sir---”
Fhascully weaved in between all, until he came to the pallet. He looked down into the face without believing. Kravieu was well wrapped in canvas. Fhascully started to grab it open calling down in panic, “Etmond, Etmond!”
Hands stopped him saying, “Sir, you do not want to---”
Fhascully slapped the hands away and felt for a pulse. “Quick,” he demanded, “fetch my bag! I can---”
Suddenly Caroll was there, “Fhascully … it is of no purpose. He is passed into sleep.”
Fhascully turned on him with rage, “How do you know this? He might still be---”
One of the crew said, “Sir. It cannot be. He is … he is severed.”
Fhascully looked about helpless, “But … how? He was to stay, he was …”
Another crewman offered, “There were three hiding in stores below. They must have been there for some time.”
Fhascully knelt beside Kravieu as another continued, “It be he, suh, who went below for a bit of somethin’ for a wounded mate, when he yelled above. We got to ‘im after he kilt one hissown self.”
Unbelievingly Fhascully asked, “He killed one?”
“With a harpoon, he did. We got the othern, but t’was nothin’ we could do for ‘im.”
Fhascully’s face was a wreck, the tears flowing freely as he gingerly touched Kravieu’s head, “Etmond … Etmond … Etmond … you are not the warrior. You even abhor violence. You bastard!
“Now what do I do? You are my brother … I made promise, what do I say to her memory. Damn!” Fhascully’s head was in his arms as he muttered, “I am now … alone …”
Caroll knelt beside him and placed a hand upon his shaking shoulder, “I shall be brother for you …”
Fhascully looked up and into the big man’s face. Also there was Dessi who nodded and softly said, “Yes sir, I will too.”
From behind Dessi, Seedle stepped around and said, “Do not forget me,” he shook his head, “I am good at being a brother.”
Seedle indicated to the crew to give them a bit of space. Many had died, but this was personal, a matter of relation. Together the four knelt over Kravieu and gave mourning.
Jha’Ley was only a few feet away with a hand on a post. He leaned his head against his forearm and closed his eyes, knowing not what to say. He saw Feila, and pop, and they were watching him. Mist was in each of their eyes; Jha’Ley for his men, Albri for joy of seeing his son alive, Feila for seeing reunion of father and son.
Jha’Ley took forearms with Albri, then they drew each other close and embraced. “I love you, pop.”
“I love you too, son.”
After a moment, Jha’Ley breathed in deep and said, “There is still more to do. We still need to get through the iceberg, and they will be waiting for us. Come on, let us make some plans.”
As they walked, he said to Feila, “You look the same.”
She smiled and raised her eyebrows, “Ah, but you have changed, you have grown up Jann Raul.”
___________________________
When Gordi awakened, it was to the smell of simmering steaks, pan-fried bread mixed with onions, and some kind of vegetable. He rose from his comfortable blankets and sat up groggily, looking about the sixteen by sixteen foot square by eight foot tall room. Up the center he saw some kind of chimney, below was the fire with Mahrufael and U’Lahna sitting around it.
Mahrufael looked over, “Ah, the bear arises from hibernation.”
Licking his lips and rubbing his face, Gordi asked, “You got any coffee to go with that?”
Mahrufael glanced to U’Lahna and spoke in thick Elvish, “See? This one is satisfied not with our fare.”
Rubbing his eyes, Gordi said, “I heard that.” Speaking in Elvish he asked, “Have you never heard, coffee in your cup is the best part of waking up?”
Both elves looked at him incredulously and said, “No.”
From that point forward, all talk was in Elvish, “Figures. Is there room enough over there for me,” he added impishly, “or is what you got a private deal?”
U’Lahna tilted her head, “Come, take place and eat.”
Gordi saw Mahrufael’s dagger back in sheath. Nodding to it he said, “You shouldn’t leave your stuff just layin’ around.”
Mahrufael nodded a thank you, then said, “You have been out for two days.”
“Two days? Where are we?”
“In a little cube I carry. They cannot see us, but we have only a few days left of provisions, and we need to proceed. There is an army of trolls preparing to pass through this area to make war in the west. We do not want to be here when they do.”
Mahrufael explained the device he used allowed an individual to enter an ethereal plane. Moving through such a surreal dimension was not easy, but he was able to carry U’Lahna, find where Gordi was laying on the river side, and take them both deep into the woods. Opening his hide-a-way cube, they were able to evade all searches.
He had two vials of curing potion left in his pouch, which did not do the whole trick, but kept U’Lahna and Gordi both on side of the living. Once she recuperated enough, she was able to bring them both back to health … health, that is … not full power restoration.
Gordi could remember moving in the ethereal plane. It was like moving in real slow motion in a real bad dream. Everything around you was like a shadow-realm, ghostly but not dead. There was no color except a deep darkness in the eyes of the demons and spirits who lived there. Being ethereal was not a safe way to be.
Mahrufael said, “I have been in contact with JéPahn, and they know my plan.”
Gordi was enjoying his steak, “What plan?”
“The Waddles is intact, and I was able to salvage some little bit of Ubank’s supplies. Jha’Ley is not taking his time, but he is giving himself four days to reach the ice fissure. We can rest one more day, build strength, and you can push us across the ice as fast as possible.”
Gordi’s mouth was full as he looked at them both. Swallowing, he took a drink of tea and nodded to U’Lahna, “Me? What about her, I’m all for equal opportunity.”
The elves laughed, then Gordi shook his head and joined in the moment. After a couple more bites, the man made comment, “By-the-way … thanks for the joy-juice.”
Mahrufael nodded, “Most welcome.”
Gordi saw U’Lahna giving him study. So with one eye raised as he cut another bite he asked with whimsy, “What’s on your mind?”
“You are human, but … how would you say … not just human, more than human … but not … I do not know how to say.”
Gordi grinned, “Don’t fret yourself over it,” pausing, he held his piece of steak and shrugged his shoulders, “The way Brie … Albri … puts it, I’m a fusion of many things, what’s been emulsified into one bound and solidified unit. He calls me an Ultahrian.”
Mahrufael leaned his head forward and asked, “A what?”
Gordi chewed, swallowed and replied, “Ultahrian,” he shrugged and added, “It’s his word …”
“Are there any more of you?”
Gordi thought about it, “Maybe.”
U’Lahna asked, “Your staff is broken. Have you other arms?”
Gordi saw her looking to his bladeless sword handle. He gave a mischievous grin, “Could be.”
Mahrufael asked as if he just had a realization, “Is it magical?”
“Not at all.”
The elf slowly nodded and spoke with a knowing tone, “No light, no fire, no radiation. Heavier than steel, but not a true metal … forged with one edge that some have called laser-sharp.”
U’Lahna looked from one to the other, she was now lost in the conversation and did not like it.
Mahrufael asked, “You are T’Kahri Sect?”
Gordi had finished his plate; he sat it down, drew his knees up, he wrapped his arms around his legs and asked, “You tell me?”
Mahrufael rubbed his chin with the back of his hand, “You wear no bands upon the wrists. They would have neutralized all magics directed against you.”
“And your potions worked upon me.”
U’Lahna was still in the dark, and she still didn’t like it. Gordi winked at Mahrufael, “You are from Suzan’s Mountain, aren’t you? A descendant of Jh’Shiua and Vaiushmae?”
Mahrufael slowly nodded his head.
U’Lahna asked, “May I glean knowledge sufficient to understand conversation?”
Gordi replied, “You mind if I have seconds while he talks?”
“No.” then she turned to Mahrufael with an interested ear.
Chapter 71
WHAT THE TROLLS might have in mind, nobody knew for sure, but Jha’Ley knew what he would do in the same position. It was a scary thought. Mahrufael and JéPahn kept the communication going as they laid out their plan. Whatever the trolls did, it was believed it would be from above since they feared water. Jha’Ley’s only immediate concern was returning to the Meinkutt Sea with no more losses.
The Clarise was at full strength with reassembled Balders, and the Qua’Korr was fortified beyond modern frigate standards. Many snowballs were formed as Tammin rehearsed what he could do in way of altering the snowball’s properties according to Albri’s ideas.
Jha’Ley told Albri and Feila, “It does not matter so much what we do, getting through that ice passage quickly and without attack from above is going to be up to our manifestors. For all we know, the passage has filled up already … at least at the bottom.”
Two days into journey, they were as far into the gulf center as they could get with regard to the ice. A special ceremony was held for burial of their dead. Jha’Ley spoke eloquently, remembering each man by name. Though their bodies were not present, Feila made words for Rolan and Skirret. S’Getti spoke, as did Dessi.
Dessi, Caroll and Seedle stood by Fhascully who had had his own moments with Kravieu.
During the voyage across the gulf, the four had met in private … as private as any can be aboard such a vessel … and commenced with a ritual ceremony drawn from Caroll’s own heritage. It was a bonding by rite and mixing of blood, as the four swore themselves to each other as brothers.
A small feast was held to celebrate the bravery of the deceased, victory thus far achieved, and movement toward freedom through the ice barrier. These men wanted to go home.
As they closed out the third day of sail, Jha’Ley saw S’Getti on deck of the Qua’Korr walking with a cane … walking?
The captain doffed his hat and thrust his new left foot into the air to show Jha’Ley, then pointed with jubilation to Tammin who was on board at the time. The commodore shook his fist in enthusiasm for his friend’s triumph. Many a person has lost a limb and let the fact ruin their life. Not so with S’Getti. He was not happy for it, but he was a warrior through and through. His grandfather had worn a peg, his father lost a hand, and an uncle wore an eye-patch and was minus an ear.
Tammin had fashioned a blend of wood with a metal rod to make for a prosthetic limb. It even had a proper foot to match the right in size and shape, so that the captain could wear shoes. With his pants on, one would not know his lower left was false, only that he walked with a limp. The Alterer had even gone so far as to fashion a sturdy cane with a twisting design and grip to match S’Getti’s palm.
The popular Bourevund, now Aft Port Staeman, meaning he was in charge of the port-side ballistae of the ship’s rear, had lost an eye. The crew had nicknamed him Cye, short for Cyclops, which he was enthusiastically taking in stride.
Jha’Ley was bombarded with troubled thoughts; Bourevund launched with him under his first command. He was very fortunate the troll’s claw hadn’t penetrated the eye socket another inch. Just the other day, Jha’Ley and Rufus had talked again about the man’s grandchildren. The sailing master was going to retire when they got home. He and Jha’Ley were going to go cane-pole fishing. And there was the ship’s boy, Covy, a strapping ten-year-old who showed as much courage as any man, but died with crossbow in hand.
There was much talk among the crew in memory of their mates, the fights, and the appearance of the golden dragon. Where had it come from, and where had it gone.
Albri had a notion, he asked JéPahn, “You have the power to sense things … can you shed light on the subject?”
Jha’Ley was listening intently as the man hesitated a moment, “It was Gordi’s idea of the last moment before we set out from the castle. He was asking Tammin about the range of his abilities with illusion. Gordi knew a legend of an elf woman named Shei’Lu who sometimes rode the back of a---”
Albri looked up to the sky in memory, “Ah … I suspected as much.” He glanced to Jann Raul, “She had a sometimes companion, a member of the Guardios Draconous faction; golden dragons sworn to protect us mere mortals, elves in particular. I think they are all died out, now. The last one, the last one I know about, was last seen … uhm-m-m … a hundred and fifty years ago, maybe even two.”
He gave the mentahk study, “So it was an illusion?”
JéPahn nodded.
Albri partially squinted one eye and tilted his head, “I did not realize you could---”
“Not I, Tammin.”
Albri shifted his feet, “Where did he get such a vivid picture with such detail?”
“Gordi had me draw from his memory, then imprint Tammin.”
“Oh re-e-eally?! Was it a painting memory, or more personal?”
“I-I-I am not sure, it was a likeness he was thinking of …”
Albri noticed JéPahn seemed to be getting uncomfortable, as if perhaps he was saying something he shouldn’t, “Thank you, sir, very well done.”
Albri walked away with Jha’Ley speaking between the two, “I am wondering where Gordi saw a likeness of Shei’Lu, because there is no painting of her I know of. Ah, Feila, there you are. I have a question for you …”
Even as they were speaking, Gordi, Mahrufael and U’Lahna were stepping out of the magical shelter. There was no sign trolls were close by, but the trio was not taking their time. Mahrufael spoke a word, the shelter dissolved and dust particles began to swirl, then a small cube appeared in his hand.
They cautiously made way to where the Waddles lay, apparently unbothered, and they got in. Gordi focused and the small craft began to scoot along the ice and into the water. He eased the speed up and then began to pour it on. Faster and faster they moved until the wind was whipping their hair. U’Lahna then held out her hand. After a few moments N’Sehlien came whistling through the air to her grasp.
Undisturbed, Waddles skimmed along the water until reaching the gulf ice … then Gordi let loose as he sat in the bow, Mahrufael and U’Lahna huddled against each other at stern as they reached speeds of seventy, seventy-five, eighty, eighty-five, ninety knots.
A flock of birds on the ice flew up into the air and a huge white bear with her cub passed glance as the craft skated by, to their ears came the sound of Gordi yelling, “He-e-e-e-e-e-eo-o-o-o-o!”
Waddles would have reached the ice passage first, had it not been for mind-speaking between Mahrufael and JéPahn. Gordi made alteration in his course to intercept the ships, meeting them about twenty miles from entry to the passage.
With the three once more aboard, the Waddles was reclaimed as plans were finalized. As the ships came within two miles of passage entry, Mahrufael formed a floating eye to send forward, scouting the length and condition of the passage.
He reported to the gathered group at council, “As we suspected, there are trolls lined upon the top southern ledge, and they have sent debris into the water below. It does not look solid, but congested …” he
jumped as if startled, “… if they did not know we were here, they do now. Someone just blasted my floater.”
Jha’Ley added, “Which means there is at least one wizard-type up there.”
Jha’Ley glanced about those in the room, “Well, do we agree on plan? This is where we make our changes and proceed.”
It would be Tammin in front, this time, his job to alter any hard water to soft … or at the least, softer. With the unicorn of the Ubank no longer available, Clarise would go first, being the larger of the two ships.
In advance, U’Lahna would fly in a wide swinging pattern to the north, where it was believed there were no trolls above. She would then fly in fast from the west side, causing a thick cloud mass of ice particles and wind, both obscuring the trolls view and giving them severe storm conditions to deal with. As she swept past the entrance she would swing back to support the ships from directly above.
Mahrufael would do some altering of his own by causing high rolling waves, attempting to affect the current already leading through the passage. If all worked correctly, the ships would be propelled through at high rates of speed while firing those altered ice balls as far up the wall as possible. The intent being to cause any foot purchase to collapse … keeping the trolls back long enough for the expedition to escape.
It fell to Gordi to deflect, if he could, any falling ice, trolls, troll missiles, or whatever else might come down upon them.
Jha’Ley himself would man the wheel of the Clarise.
Albri took an isolated moment to grasp Gordi by the shoulder and glare at him, “I should punch you in the nose.”
Gordi responded by inhaling deep, holding it, then exhaling slow as he said in a hurtful tone, “Before dinner?”
“You bast---, I am worried for you, Gordi. Are you well? Are you up for this last? You are depleted, I can tell. And then pushing the boat across the ice …”
Gordi replied with a wink, “Actually, that was easy. I’m okay. You can buy me an ale or two later.”
A slow grin crossed Albri’s face, “We have much to catch up on, you and I. It has been long. The three of us should take some time, you, Feila and I.”
