“We seek refuge from the nether wolves,” Alexander called back.
“What hold to you hail from?”
“We’re travelers from Ruatha,” Alexander yelled. “Let us in and we’ll explain everything.”
“I need a name that I recognize before I can let you in.”
“Hector and Horace Lal,” Hector yelled.
“Darkness comes, My Love,” Chloe said in his mind.
Alexander stretched out with his all around sight but the nether wolves were still too far away for him to see, yet close enough to hear them racing up the road below.
The drawbridge lowered slowly. Alexander waited tensely. He expected he was going to have to face the nether wolves eventually, but he wanted to do so on his own terms, on a battlefield of his choosing.
They rode across the stout drawbridge on their skittish horses. As they passed under the portcullis and the drawbridge began to rise again, Alexander glanced back with his all around sight and saw nine nether wolves charging toward them. The creatures stopped at the edge of the precipice, howling in fury that their quarry had escaped.
Alexander and his friends entered a courtyard ringed with archers along the walls. A dozen armed and armored men approached, most with weapons drawn.
“I’m Captain Mithras of the Reishi Protectorate, commander of this stronghold. Last I heard, the brothers Lal were assigned as spies on the Isle of Karth.”
“We have since been reassigned,” Hector said.
“On whose authority?” Captain Mithras asked. He was a big man, taller than average and barrel-chested with powerful-looking arms, a cleanly shaven head and a long beard braided into three strands secured with a bone bead at the end of each.
“Commander P’Tal,” Hector said.
“We’ve not heard from him since Prince Phane sent him the kill the pretender,” Mithras said. “How is it that you’ve been in contact with the Commander?”
Hector looked at Alexander for an indication as to how he should proceed. Alexander nodded.
“Captain Mithras, I am honored to introduce Lord Alexander Reishi, Seventh Sovereign of the Seven Isles,” Hector said, extending his hand toward Alexander. At the same time, Alexander withdrew the Sovereign Stone from under his tunic and let it fall against his chest.
Everyone froze for a moment before Mithras drew his sword. His men all stepped forward, raising their weapons as the men on the walls nocked arrows.
Alexander’s focus sharpened and narrowed down to the present moment. His left hand found the hilt of Mindbender but he didn’t act.
“Stand down, Captain,” Hector said. “Lord Reishi is your rightful master. Prince Phane is the pretender and the enemy of the Reishi Sovereign.”
“Last word we had was news of the destruction of Protectorate Headquarters,” Mithras said. “Prince Phane disappeared the same day, and since that day, the night has been haunted. No one is safe outside the walls of our strongholds. Thousands have been slaughtered. Those that remain are overcrowded and our food supplies will not last the winter. We hunt these foul beasts by day but they elude us. By night we dare not venture forth.
“Now you come before us at the side of the man responsible for our plight and claim that he is our rightful master.”
Hector leaned forward in his saddle. “He is your rightful master. He bears the Sovereign Stone.”
Mithras looked more closely at the softly glowing red teardrop ruby hanging around Alexander’s neck and his colors flared with indecision and doubt.
“I did not summon the beasts that stalk you in the night,” Alexander said. “Phane did. He also destroyed your headquarters. He did these things because I claimed the Sovereign Stone and he knew that the Protectorate would turn against him. Phane is your enemy, Captain Mithras.”
He lowered his blade slightly.
“What’s more,” Alexander said, “I’ve faced the nether wolves that are menacing your people and I know how to defeat them. I can also offer you food for the winter, but I need your help in return.”
“For two thousand years we’ve waited for Prince Phane to awaken,” Mithras said, “and now I’m supposed to believe that he is our enemy? The Sovereign Stone is rightfully his. You should surrender it to him so that he may claim his proper station.”
“That’s not going to happen, Captain,” Alexander said. “Phane is a necromancer. He calls on the netherworld for his power and he is thoroughly evil. He’s waging a war against the Old Law as we speak. The time has come for you to choose. Will you serve the Old Law or will you serve the tyrant who loosed darkness upon your home?”
“I serve the Reishi,” Captain Mithras said. “Prince Phane is the only Reishi left.”
“You’re wrong, Captain,” Alexander said, tapping the Sovereign Stone. “I couldn’t have bonded with the Stone if I wasn’t Reishi.”
“The tradition of the Reishi Empire is clear,” Hector said. “The Sovereign is the one who bears the Stone.”
“This is difficult to accept,” Mithras said, his sword lowering further still.
“Would a letter from Commander P’Tal help you decide?” Alexander asked, withdrawing a sealed parchment from his pouch and extending it to the nearest soldier.
The commander took the letter from the man and examined the seal carefully before breaking the wax and reading the letter.
“This is in the Commander’s hand,” Mithras said, sheathing his sword. “I don’t fully understand all of this, but I’m not foolish enough to defy an order given by Commander P’Tal. You’re welcome in our stronghold, Lord Reishi.”
“Thank you, Captain,” Alexander said.
Chapter 34
“There’s no way we can run that blockade, Lord Reishi,” Captain Rastus said. He was a weather-worn sailor with a greying beard and long hair tied back in a ponytail. Alexander had boarded his ship two days prior over the captain’s strenuous objections.
Alexander had been on Tyr for nearly two weeks and he was beginning to feel the all-too-familiar feeling of urgency building in his gut. He hadn’t expected to spend so much time working with the remnants of the Reishi Protectorate but the damage done by the nether wolves was extensive. Thousands had been killed in the night, but more than that, the spirit of those left alive had been broken. For two thousand years they had waited for the return of the Reishi Prince, and upon his arrival, they had been ravaged by creatures from the darkness.
The trauma of it had been enough to cause many of the people living on Alta to question their purpose, to question their loyal service for so many years, to question the Reishi.
Overcoming their dismay and earning their trust had taken some effort. Alexander spent the better part of a week, aided by the few men brave enough to volunteer for such a task, hunting nether wolves. The first night only three men from Captain Mithras’s stronghold were willing to venture forth from the walls after dark.
They lured three nether wolves into their trap that night and killed all three without taking any casualties. Alexander’s experience with the beasts, aided by the light of his night-wisp dust, almost assured their victory. After the other men of the stronghold heard the stories of the battle, many more were willing to venture forth the next night.
They were not so fortunate. Several of the men lost their courage when the nether wolves howled in the darkness. Three of the seventeen that accompanied Alexander broke formation and fled into the night. They died quickly. But another two nether wolves fell, and Alexander’s hunting party managed to track the remaining four into a box canyon and hold them at bay with the night-wisp dust until dawn.
The next night went much better. Alexander located the place where the nether wolves had gone to ground and was waiting for them when the sun set. Using the light of the night-wisp dust to keep them from rematerializing, he was able to allow one at a time to rise from the ground, only to be hacked apart by men of the Reishi Protectorate.
With the destruction of the nether wolves, the spirit of the men stat
ioned at Captain Mithras’s stronghold soared. They sent forth riders with word of the victory and stories of their new leader to all of the other holds on Alta. Although Alexander was anxious to be on his way, he decided that consolidating his command of the Reishi Protectorate was worth the delay, so he waited for the captains of all the other holds to assemble. They were skeptical at first, but after reading the letter written by Jataan and listening to the stories of the men who had stood with Alexander against the nether wolves, they began to come around.
When he opened the Gate to Ithilian and asked Abel to send food, they decided that he was indeed the Reishi Sovereign and threw their support behind his cause with enthusiasm.
Two days’ ride had brought him to the northernmost port town and Captain Rastus’s ship.
The sailor accepted Alexander’s title and pledged his loyalty to the Reishi, but was reluctant to sail north as Alexander requested. He reported that ships from Tuva, Lorraine, and Kalmar, the three small islands of Tyr to the north, had been blockading the straits they would need to sail through to get to the Spires, as they called the dragon isle. He flatly refused to take his boat past the Spires until Captain Mithras told him he would lose his command if he didn’t.
“Captain’s right,” the first mate said. “They’ll sink us for sure.”
“No they won’t,” Alexander said. “They won’t even see us.”
“What’s your plan?” Isabel asked.
“I need you to spot for us from the air and guide the captain’s course,” Alexander said. “It’s about to get very foggy.”
He stood on the bow of the ship, holding the hilt of Mindbender and focusing his mind’s eye on visualizing an enormous fog bank rolling in around them. Stretching out with his all around sight, he envisioned a heavy blanket of dense white fog for as far as he could see. When he released his illusion into the sword, the air rapidly condensed into a thick fog bank that reached for several hundred feet in every direction.
They sailed blind for the next hour, threading their way past the blockade that stretched from the east coast of Tuva to the west coast of Lorraine. Alexander could hear shouting in the distance from the enemy sailors as they passed through their line but he ignored them and focused on maintaining his illusion.
Not long after the cloud of artificial fog had passed the blockade, one of the ships began to give chase. As it neared the edge of Alexander’s illusion, a wave of magical energy emanating from the other ship swept through them, dispelling Alexander’s illusion. In the span of two breaths’ time, the fog bank vanished.
“It would seem that they have a wizard,” Jack said.
“I really wasn’t expecting that,” Alexander said.
The rest of the ships in the blockade began to turn and give chase as well.
“Best speed,” Alexander shouted to Captain Rastus.
The captain started barking orders at his men, who leapt into action, raising more sail and putting oars into the water. Within minutes they were racing north as fast as the wind and the strength of the rowers could propel them, but it wasn’t fast enough. A few of the enemy ships were gaining on them.
“That nearest ship is within weapons range,” the first mate said.
“Fire at will,” Captain Rastus said.
The men manning the aft ballista went to work loading a firepot and cranking the winch to arm the weapon. The first shot missed.
“Why aren’t they firing at us?” Horace asked.
Alexander tapped his chest where the Sovereign Stone bulged under his tunic. “They don’t want to sink us, they want to board us.”
The second shot hit squarely on their foredeck, sending men scrambling to douse the flames before they could ignite the mainsail. Two more ships raced past as a third came up alongside the burning vessel to render aid and take on crew.
The ballista fired again. The firepot sailed in a gentle arc, coming down on the nearest enemy vessel, but before it could reach its target, Alexander saw a wave of magical energy rise from the deck of the ship and shatter the firepot, sending the flaming contents harmlessly into the ocean.
“More than one wizard,” Jack said.
“I told you this was a bad idea,” Captain Rastus said.
“I never said it was a good idea,” Alexander shot back, “only that it was necessary.”
“It looks like we’re faster than all but three of the remaining ships,” Isabel said. “The gap is widening between them. Unfortunately, it also looks like two of those faster ships have a wizard standing on the deck waiting for us to take another shot at them.”
“Hold your fire, Captain,” Alexander said. “Don’t waste the firepots, we may have a chance to make better use of them later.”
“What do you want me to do?” Captain Rastus asked.
“Make best speed north,” Alexander said. “It’s all we can do for now.”
“And when they get closer?” Rastus said.
“We fight,” Alexander said, straining to extend the range of his all around sight. He could see farther now than he could the day after he’d been blinded but still not as far as he could with his natural vision. He was frustrated by the limitation but told himself that he could still see better than most. Without his magic, he would be completely blind.
The pain behind his eyes came and went, depending on how far he tried to extend his all around sight. On the days he was content to see within a hundred feet or so, he felt no pain at all, but when he pushed to see farther, it hurt, yet with each effort to stretch his ability he could see farther than the last, so he ignored the pain. He could see out to about five hundred feet, farther than ever, yet still not far enough.
They raced north all afternoon, rotating rowers to keep them fresh. The three pursuing ships gained on them steadily but slowly. The other vessels fell farther behind but showed no sign of giving up. Isabel reported that they’d formed a flotilla and were pursuing doggedly even though the gap was widening.
“Start looking for a cove to hide in, Captain,” Alexander said.
“They’ll see us,” Rastus said.
Alexander shook his head, pointing to a place on the coast of Tuva that might work. “Do you know if that cove is deep enough?” Alexander asked.
“It is. But they’ll see us and then we’ll be trapped.”
“Head for it,” Alexander ordered. He went to the aft deck and grasped the hilt of Mindbender, sending his vision into the sword. He visualized them sailing north along the coastline into the gloaming while obscuring their true course.
The captain was reluctant but obeyed nonetheless. They slipped into the secluded cove and the enemy sailed right past them into the night.
“Might make tomorrow interesting,” Jack said.
“Tomorrow’s going to be interesting no matter what we do,” Alexander said. “At least this way, the men can get some rest.”
***
They sailed out of the cove before first light. Again, Alexander lamented his loss of sight. Prior to his encounter with Shivini, he would have been able to see the colors of the men aboard the ships in the night but they were well out of range of his all around sight. He stretched out as far as he could, straining through the pain to see farther still but the enemy just wasn’t close enough to detect.
Luckily, dawn broke over an ocean shrouded in mist. The enemy would have a harder time finding them with the limited visibility. Captain Rastus ordered his men to make best speed north as quietly as possible. Normally, the ship was a noisy place with men yelling and the row master calling out the stroke of the oars, but everyone understood the situation and made an effort to keep the noise at a minimum.
By midmorning the fog started to burn off and Isabel reported that the enemy ships were holding position in a blockade line across the narrowest point between Tuva and Lorraine. Seventeen ships formed a line across the strait, most of them large, sail-driven ships, capable of good speed out on the open ocean but lacking the banks of oars that gave the smaller ships
an advantage when the wind was calm.
Alexander picked a point in the blockade where there were several of the larger, slower ships.
“We’ll run the line there,” Alexander said. “Captain, have your fore ballista loaded and ready to fire. Hit that ship as soon as we’re in range, then hit it again. Once its sails are on fire, attack the next nearest ship.”
The remnants of the morning fog helped them reach firing range before any of the enemy sailors saw their approach. As the first firepot lifted off the deck, the enemy sent up a whistler arrow.
The firepot shattered against the side of the nearest ship, sending the sailors scrambling to pour water on the growing flame before it reached the sails as the captain turned the ship to make for a smaller target. The second firepot was away quickly, arcing through the salt air and crashing into the mainmast, splashing fire across the sails.
The next nearest ship was closing fast, bringing its ram into position to hit Alexander’s ship broadside. Captain Rastus ordered his rowers to step up the pace as the fore and aft ballistae swiveled to target the approaching ship. They fired in unison, each scoring a direct hit on the deck, causing the enemy’s ram attack to falter.
They raced through the hole in the blockade as the rest of the ships adjusted course to give chase.
“One of those faster boats is going to catch us,” Isabel said. “It turned early and got out ahead of us as soon as the alarm went up.”
“Adjust course,” Alexander said to the captain. “Head straight for it. Target the nearest ship behind us with the aft ballista and sink it.”
“It’s almost out of range,” Captain Rastus said.
“Then you don’t have much time, Captain,” Alexander said. “Do what damage you can without slowing down, then prepare to engage the ship out in front of us.”
Rastus seemed to give up his ingrained reluctance and threw himself into the task at hand with a mixture of anger and resignation. The aft ballista fired moments later, scoring a hit against the prow of the nearest trailing ship, but failing to ignite the sails.
Blood of the Earth (Sovereign of the Seven Isles: Book Four) Page 32
