by James Somers
As the caged wagon ambled further down the wide avenue toward the palace, Elspeth began to notice a change in the scenery. The prosperous homes and businesses of civilians gave way to the bustle of the military. For acres and acres, Elspeth saw the preparations of war.
The once lush, manicured lawns adorning the palace grounds had been converted to training quads for Mordred’s army. Thousands of men in red and black uniforms sparred in tight formations or trained with various weapons. In the distance to her right, Elspeth saw the manufacture of gigantic engines of war. These would not be used to raid villages and towns. These could only be reserved for laying siege to a large city.
Mordred’s plan became clear to her. The siege engines may as well have had Wayland stamped upon them in blood. This had to be Mordred’s intention. With a rebellion fomenting in Wayland to his rule in Nod, Mordred was not going to wait for an attack. He would take the fight to his enemies.
The wagon proceeded into the palace courtyard underneath another smaller double portcullis. Inside the courtyard wall, a lush garden lay before them. Truly, evil can seem beautiful, she thought.
Fountains of Azure seawater lay on either side of the road. The palace was beautiful beyond compare. The building had been constructed from the same white granite block as the wall, only it was highly polished and adorned by many solid gold and bronze statues.
Elspeth recognized these immediately and her suspicions about the evil nature of this place were instantly confirmed. Castings of idol gods had been set up everywhere on the grounds. Idolatry had always been strictly prohibited by Shaddai, but now the city bearing his name was full of it.
She saw, in some of the garden spots, men and women praying to them. There were idols set up beneath large trees and upon the fountains-the primary ornaments seen wherever one’s eyes fell upon the palace grounds.
Fifty other young women had been kept in the wagon with Elspeth. Others had been separated from them along the way from Grandee. She had no idea what had become of them since. Some of the women sobbed. What would happen to them now? But Elspeth refused to give Mordred the satisfaction of her tears.
When the wagon stopped, a driver dressed in red and black armor, hopped down from his seat and met several palace guards at the rear of the wagon. They unlocked the steel-banded cage and motioned for the women to come out.
One of the guards addressed them. “You’re going to be processed. Your group has the privilege of working here in the palace. You should be grateful to the gods. There are far worse places where you could be laboring for Lord Mordred. Obey and you won’t come to know what that statement really means. Disobey and you will live out your remaining days in pain.”
He led them through a side gate off the path leading into the palace. The former servant’s quarters resided here. Once they entered the larger of these less stately buildings, a matron took control of the women.
Anger burned in the haggish woman’s eyes. She laid into the young women immediately, explaining very clearly how she would not tolerate any laziness. “I will not be trifled with!” she said.
The matron and several women working under her wore dark dresses covered by off-white, heavy aprons with pockets in the front. She introduced herself as Mrs. Palmer. The other women with her brought out stacks of uniforms.
“These will be your clothes for as long as you reside here at the palace of Lord Mordred. Take good care of them. If I have to issue you any more, you will receive ten lashes each time. Is that understood?”
Elspeth and all of the other young women nodded. It was not a nod of approval, but the nod of forced compliance, a nod which punctuated the hopelessness of their situation. As Elspeth gathered the garments meted out to her and fell back into line, she wondered where her brother might be at this moment. She wondered if he might still be alive and looking for her.
CAPTAIN BONIFAST
A pleasant breeze brushed over the sailing ship, Maelstrom. Ethan had been forced to breathe rancid air the night before in Tilley Town’s stockade, so this was more than he could have hoped for. He had expected dirt shoveled over his body in some mass grave back in Tilley by this time, but divine providence proved a force to be reckoned with.
Ash and his fellow shipmates, who had been sharing the gallows with him and Gideon only hours before, had known their captain, Levi Bonifast, would rescue them somehow. Apparently, Captain Bonifast had ordered the assault on Mordred’s munitions depot in Tilley to begin with and had made sure the job was completed the second time.
The monstrous explosion, rocking the city, had provided a wonderful diversion. Meanwhile, members of Bonifast’s crew, disguised as hangmen, brought about their escape. Fortunately, Ash had been willing to take him and Gideon along in the escape plan.
Ethan and Gideon remained on deck under the watchful eyes of the crew. Ethan suspected that they were pirates. Nevertheless, Ash had made it clear they fought with the resistance movement building in Nod.
Ash and the others had disappeared into the captain’s cabin at the rear of the ship. Ethan wondered if he would find Captain Bonifast as friendly a man as Ash. Gideon, for the most part, remained quiet. He generally did not talk unless he had something specific to say. “Even a fool is counted wise when he holds his tongue,” Gideon had said.
By mid-afternoon, Ethan wondered when they might see Ash again and meet this illustrious Captain Bonifast. He had never been aboard a ship like this before or a ship at all for that matter. He stared, amazed at how efficient the crew carried out their duties, performing their individual functions in concert like a well-oiled machine.
The Maelstrom, a weather beaten vessel, had more charm than outright beauty, like an old mule-ugly as sin, but hard working and worth its weight in gold to its master. As Ethan examined the main mast before him and the rail he was leaning against, he noticed a fair amount of patchwork. Careful inspection found the wood littered with pockmarks and seams where new wood had been added to replace hunks of it lost in numerous battles.
Many of the crew had the same sort of patchwork appearance. Some wore shaggy beards. Others had teeth missing or rotting out. Some of Bonifast’s motley crew were even missing fingers or entire limbs. Still, they performed their duties the same as everyone else.
The door to the captain’s cabin opened, causing Ethan and Gideon to perk up. They eagerly anticipated the man to whom they owed their lives. A man dressed in a navy blue waistcoat with a matching tricorn hat walked out of the cabin.
“Ash?” Ethan asked.
“That’s Captain Levi Ashbury Bonifast to you, young master Ethan,” he said.
“So you’re Bonifast,” Gideon said.
“I know, I know. You were trying very hard to figure out who could be more dashing and intelligent than your new friend Ash,” Bonifast said. “But your wondering is over, the answer is clear-no one is!”
One thing was certain, Ash or Bonifast, or whoever he was, had not lost his sense of humor. Ethan grinned from ear to ear. “I guess we owe you our lives then, Captain.”
Captain Bonifast patted Ethan’s shoulder. “Ah well, let’s save our thanks for the Almighty who deserves it, eh?” he said, nodding toward Gideon. Gideon smiled, nodding in agreement. He would not have admitted it, but Gideon seemed to like this fellow almost as much as Ethan did. Bonifast may have seemed a scoundrel at first glance, but somewhere beneath the veneer a heart of pure gold kept showing through.
“So, boys, what are your plans, or were you thinking of settling down in Tilley?”
“I’m trying to get to Emmanuel to rescue my sister,” Ethan said. “Gideon is helping me.”
“I see. Then Shaddai has you on the right track,” Bonifast said. “The Maelstrom is sailing for Emmanuel. I suppose you could tag along with us, right boys?” Bonifast said to his crew.
“Aye, Captain!” they shouted.
“Of course you’ll have to pull your own weight,” he said. “As the Word says, A man who doesn’t work, doesn’t eat, and the
same goes on this ship.”
Ethan and Gideon looked at one another. “We’d be happy to serve in any way we can, Captain Bonifast,” Gideon said.
“Very good. Anthony…Brass?”
“Yes, Captain?” they answered.
“I want you to take these lads below and get them something to eat in the mess. Then get them some clothes, if they have need, and bring them back up on deck within the hour. Show them what needs doing and how to do it.”
“Aye, Captain,” they said. Ethan followed Gideon, hurrying below deck with Bonifast’s men. Once again, divine providence had guided them in the way they should go. Soon they would arrive at Emmanuel, and Ethan wondered if he would find his sister. And if he did, would she be dead or alive?
THE SLAVER
The four o’clock bell sounded. Exactly twenty-one minutes later, the alarm went out from the crows nest. A ship had been spotted off the port bow. The weather had been fair up until one hour ago. A storm lay ahead of them now, and the wind had been picking up steadily, allowing the Maelstrom to gain a great deal of speed.
Ethan and Gideon were engaged in a lesson on how to furl and unfurl the sails. They climbed up the rigging with Brass. Ethan had exchanged his clothing for some brown slacks and a white pullover shirt while Gideon had refused to change from his priestly garments, choosing instead to wash them in a bucket with a washboard.
Captain Bonifast ordered more sail to catch the increasing wind. Brass explained how Captain Bonifast enjoyed finding the edge of storm systems, riding the good wind to propel them like a slingshot. “The Maelstrom gets its name for this reason, and no seabird can ride them out better,” Brass said.
“Spyglass!” Bonifast called. Anthony, who happened to be the first mate, handed the captain a brass telescope. Bonifast drew it to its full length, setting it toward the ship on the horizon. It appeared to be coming on course for Emmanuel as well. The ship was flying Mordred’s colors, a black flag with a single red circle and black pupil, like a red eye watching in the dark.
Bonifast murmured to himself. “Wait, what’s she doing?”
As he watched the ship, he saw every scrap of sail unfurl. They shifted their course, taking them directly toward the storm system looming on the horizon.
“She’s spotted us, boys!” he cried. “Break out every scrap of cloth we’ve got, Anthony, and strike the colors!”
Anthony shouted the captain’s orders to the crew. The command repeated across the deck. The men flew up the rigging like spiders crossing their webs. Bonifast turned to Anthony saying, “If they want to ride the storm, then we’ll show them why this old girl is called the Maelstrom, eh lad?”
“Aye, Captain.”
Ethan and Gideon climbed the netting alongside Brass, bringing them to the middle of the mizzenmast in order to help tie down the sail into proper position. “I don’t understand!” Ethan shouted over the wind.
“We’re going after that ship,” Gideon said.
“Yes, but why? Who are they?”
“Slaver ship!” Brass shouted.
The sails caught the wind and the ship surged forward faster.
“What’s a slaver ship?” Ethan asked.
“Mordred’s army has been making raids on the villages and towns at random,” Brass said. “They take prisoners to sell them as slaves outside Nodian borders. Some of them go to Emmanuel to work at the palace and take other jobs within the city for Mordred. He mostly has the women taken though. Mordred doesn’t want to risk a rebellion under his own nose. They burn out the villages and usually kill everyone else in the process.”
This reminded Ethan of what had taken place in Grandee. Had this been all there was to it, just supplying a slave trade? He couldn’t believe it was that simple. There had been a demon there in the council meeting. It had controlled the outcome, manipulating the men on the council in order to stop Grandee from joining the rebellion under King Stephen of Wayland.
Then another thought occurred to him. If this ship was a slaver, perhaps Elspeth might be onboard. He might be on the verge of finding and rescuing her before she could ever reach Mordred. This glimmer of hope comforted Ethan a little. He watched the ship running from Bonifast. Before Ethan could rejoice, Bonifast had to catch it.
From where Ethan stood, the slaver ship looked so far away. “Can we catch it?” he asked Brass. “My sister was taken by Mordred’s men.”
“It’s going to give us a run for sure,” Brass said. “They’re trying to hide in that storm, but Bonifast’s nickname is the Storm Rider for good reason. That man can navigate the swells like no one I’ve ever seen. I’ve not seen a slaver get away from him yet. He hates them. You lads had better hold tight and secure your lifelines. When we reach that storm it’s going to be a bumpy ride for all of us.”
It took over an hour to get close. In the meantime, the guns were prepped and Brass shared a little about what the Maelstrom could do in a real battle. The old girl carried sixty cannons, separated into two levels on both sides of the ship. Brass explained how the upper levels carried twenty-pounders while the lower levels, like the one they were standing inside now, housed the thirty-pounders. One of the secrets of Bonifast’s longstanding victories were his custom castings. “You see,” Brass said, holding up a twenty-pound ball. “These babies work very well. But, depending upon the enemy vessel’s strength, they may not have much penetrating power to the hull, where it really counts.”
Brass handed the ball to Gideon and walked over to one of the ammo crates behind the cannon crew. He removed a shell unlike anything they had ever seen before. Rather than the traditional round cannonball, this weapon was cylindrical with a very sharp cone tip at one end.
“Now this, lads, has got penetrating power,” Brass bragged. “When traditional ammunition can’t get the job done, we pull out these beauties. Then it’s all over. The captain had them specially designed. We can sink a galleon hundreds of yards away, while staying out of reach of its guns.”
Ethan noticed some of the lower deck guns were nearly twice the length of the others. “Does the added length allow you to shoot further?” Ethan asked.
“Well, it’s more about the powder charge on distance, but the barrel length gives us the kind of accuracy these guns really need. Our men are some of the best gunners sailing the Azure,” Brass said.
“He’s not exaggerating,” Bonifast added.
The captain had managed to sneak up on them. The ship pitched wildly, causing Ethan and Gideon to reach for the overhead beams in order to support themselves.
“It takes getting used to,” Bonifast said, “but you’ll both get your sea legs soon enough. Anyway, you might want to come up on deck. The weather is about to come down on us hard.”
“How close are we, Captain?” Ethan asked.
Bonifast looked at them, smiling with a ravenous gleam in his eyes like a wild man. “Soon, lads, and load up the specials for this one!”
There was a shout of “Aye” from the entire gunnery crew on that level. Then the captain led Ethan, Gideon, and Brass up on deck. The sight of the Azure Sea set into a frenzy, the way it was now, inspired awe and terror all at once. Gideon and Ethan looked at one another, amazed. To say that the beautiful Azure Sea looked angry would have been an understatement. What Ethan had seen before, as a calm sapphire jewel extending beyond his sight, had now become a vicious predator ready to devour the two ships at any moment. Roiling waves extended as far as Ethan could see terminating in ominous purple and gray thunderclouds at the horizon, in every direction.
Captain Bonifast ran to the helm and took over. He looked like a cat toying with a mouse. He played the wheel, watching the slaver ship battling against the sea several hundred yards ahead of them. The smaller ship bobbed up and down violently as the storm surge threatened to dash it to splinters.
Ethan thought he might be sick. The meal he had enjoyed earlier now churned in a stomach that felt as angry as the sea. Gideon seemed to be handling it better. Ethan wondered if th
e priest had sailed before during his time with The Order of Shaddai.
Ethan prayed as he held tight to the rail. Gideon watched him and stayed near. A rope around each of their waists tethered them to the ship. The crew moved about as though this sort of treacherous pursuit was second nature to them. And Captain Bonifast handled the ship like he’d been born to the task, anticipating each swell and bringing the ship into waves before they could crest and slam into the Maelstrom.
Apart from the constant up and down and the fierce wind, all was well aboard Bonifast’s ship. The same could not be said for the slaver ship. Bonifast kept a careful eye on the enemy vessel as he maneuvered the Maelstrom ever closer. The rain had not started…yet.
Gideon staggered across the deck trying to get to the helm and Bonifast. Ethan watched him, but he did not follow. He had enough trouble just trying to keep his lunch down. Gideon reached the helm as Bonifast sent the ship hard to port in anticipation of a coming wave. The captain’s expression grew intense. He stood at the helm in tune with the wind, the waves, and his ship.
“Even if we catch the ship, how can we board it during a storm?” Gideon shouted over the din. It was a fair question. There would be no way possible to do such a thing without being able to line the ships up in parallel and keep them still.
“We’re not going to board it!” Bonifast said, his expression suddenly turning grim.
“But what about the slaves they have onboard?” Gideon asked.
“We don’t know that they have any slaves on that ship, lad!”
“But if they’re headed back to Emmanuel…they wouldn’t go empty-handed!” Gideon reasoned.
The sea started to give Bonifast more trouble now. The questioning did nothing to help his concentration either. The captain’s face grew hard as he watched his target.
