It didn’t look good for Azkimal’s men; enemy ships outnumbered theirs three to one.
“Who are they?” came the question, but so engrossed in the scene unfolding on Corillian that James didn’t even register who spoke.
“More importantly,” added Father Keller, “where did they come from? They wear no uniforms I ever saw before.”
Scrolling north along the coast they saw where enemy ships sat docked at Port May, one of the larger merchant cities midway along the eastern shore of the island. Smoke rose from the city and fighting raged in the streets.
James turned a worried look to Jiron. “It’s an invasion.”
The knifer nodded. “The attack on your island but a prelude to this.”
A little hand gripped James’ shoulder. “Where’s Mother?”
“She’s escaping with Meliana and Kenny,” he replied. “I’ll find her.” The scene left Port May and returned to Corillion’s packed and frantic dockside. It took a moment but they soon located Kendrick and the others at the base of a gangplank leading up to his flagship, Melia’s Dream, named after his late wife and Meliana’s mother.
Kendrick and the sailors held the panicked mob back at the tip of their swords as the rest boarded, then he followed with the sailors coming right behind. Corillian’s citizenry flooded onto the gangplank afterward.
“He better control that,” commented Scar as more people surged toward the ship. Jostling began and people were shoved off into the water below by those behind.
Potbelly nodded. “Fear and desperation can make a man do things he wouldn’t ordinarily do.”
James remembered the fall of the City of Light and the ship that was destroyed by a panicked mob seeking to escape the city before the Empire occupied it.
Half a dozen sailors with cudgels raced forward and after letting two families board, controlled the situation with numerous blows.
Kendrick shouted to his men and they flew into the rigging; sails were lowered, mooring lines were severed and they began pulling away.
Seeing the ship begin to depart and leave them behind, the mob surged forward, many leaping across the widening gap between ship and dock to grab hold of the rail. A very few were pulled on board, the rest had fingers and heads smashed to remove them.
“They made it,” Shorty said breathing a sigh of relief.
“Not yet,” argued Father Keller.
James scrolled out from the island and widened the view. Ships were still locked in battle. The number of Warlord Azkimal’s ships had been reduced dramatically. Four of the enemy were now heading unopposed toward Corillian’s dock.
Melia’s Dream turned northward to angle along the coastline in an attempt to avoid the oncoming ships.
“Sails ho!”
James looked up from the mirror. Three ships appeared on the horizon directly in their path.
“They’re the ones you saw earlier,” Jiron said.
“Hard to port!” ordered Captain Anyn. He glanced worriedly to James and received a nod.
The three ships altered course to intercept.
James returned his gaze to the mirror and saw that one of the four ships heading to Corillian had broken off to follow Kendrick’s.
“Damn!”
“Master,” Azhan said, “we stand ready.”
Hikai nodded vigorously.
Meliana had taken Kenny into her father’s cabin. Aleya on the other hand, stood at the stern with bow at the ready, waiting for the ship to come into range.
“Kendrick’s a good man,” Jiron said. “He’ll get them through.”
He watched the scene unfolding in the mirror. It was difficult to judge whether or not the enemy ship was gaining.
A yellow beam struck the forecastle near where they gathered around the mirror. Wisps of smoke rose and the smell of char filled the air.
“Master!”
James was unable to tear his gaze away from his family and the enemy ship in pursuit. If he was there, their escape would not even be in question. But without him they didn’t stand a chance. All that they had to protect them was the seamanship of Kendrick and his sailors. He feared that would not be enough.
Another beam struck a sail high in the rigging. Sailors scrambled and it was quickly put out but by the time the flames died, over half the sail was gone.
“Come on,” Jiron said as he slapped his friend’s shoulder. “We need to take care of this before we lose any more sails.”
“Yes, we do,” James replied with much vehemence, emotion punctuating each word. A large shield sprang up between their ship and the enemy. Another beam of yellow power struck the shield only to be deflected into the sea.
Standing, he slipped the mirror into his pocket then pulled three slugs from his slug belt. Gathering magic, he concentrated on each in turn, infusing them with his anger and his need for vengeance…How dare they attack his family! Once done, he went to the rail at the stern.
“How can we help, Master?”
He turned to Azhan. “Keep the sails full. This will be over shortly.”
One at a time, he took the slugs and with each, gave the wooden railing a single tap. Then with a spell to speed them on their way, threw them toward the ships.
“What’s that supposed to do?”
James turned a grim expression upon Hikai. “Wait, and watch.”
Magic guided and propelled the slugs. He kept the spell guiding them active until the slugs reached a point where he knew they would not go astray. Then gave them one last boost to guide them before releasing the spells. Having them fall devoid of active magic, he hoped they would not trigger any latent magical defenses the ships may have in play.
In his mind’s eye, he saw that the men on those ships remained oblivious of the slugs’ approach. Each slug fell toward a different ship. The first to reach its target struck a soldier in the helm then ricocheted off onto the shoulder of another before falling to the deck. Contact with the wooden planking triggered the embedded spells.
A simple leech spell drained magic from those nearest to it and men fell. The magic drawn by the first spell triggered a second series of leach spells and men fell in ever widening swaths. Once sufficient magic accumulated, the final spell triggered.
First one ship, then the other two exploded in blinding fireballs.
Azhan watched with mouth agape. “By the gods!” He turned to James. “Master…,” he began.
James held up his hand to forestall what he was sure would be a question he had no intention of answering, then turned to Captain Anyn. “Captain,” he said, “make for Corillian with all speed.”
There was genuine fear in his eyes as he nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“How long?”
“If this wind holds…”
“And it will,” Azhan cut in.
The captain glanced to him, the sails, then back to James. He was visibly uneasy with being in their company. “By nightfall.”
“See that we do.”
“Yes, sir.” He got his sailors busy working on replacing the ruined sail with another from the ship’s hold.
James pulled forth his mirror and checked the debris for signs of life. Burnt bodies and body parts intermixed with the ships’ charred and splintered remains. Nothing moved. A slight twinge to his conscious surfaced for a moment before anger and fear for his loved ones pushed it back down. With a thought, he altered the spell and the mirror showed Melia’s Dream.
Jiron sighed in relief. “They haven’t caught her.”
“Not yet,” James replied.
Kendrick was at the helm and it looked as if they sailed northward; the coastline was on the westward side of the ship. Smoke rose from no less than three places, indications that the enemy had attempted to halt them by using their magical device. As they watched, another beam struck the rear sail confirming their suspicions.
“Damn!” cursed Jiron as the sail burst into flame.
Jira stood with them, silent and scared.
“They�
�ll never outrun them now,” Scar said.
Kendrick shouted and men flew into the rigging. Knives flashed as ropes were severed and the burning sail fell free. Men on the deck below armed with water-filled buckets quickly put it out.
Motion at the very top of the mirror drew James’ attention. He scrolled the image that way and saw a dozen warships of Warlord Azkimal heading for the fray.
“Yes!” he said under his breath.
Kendrick saw them a moment later and altered course to intercept.
A second beam struck their mainsail midway to the crow’s nest. As the canvas ignited, the sailor stationed in the crow’s nest scrambled from his perch and slid down a nearby rope. By the time the flames had subsided, over half the sail had been consumed.
One more beam of magic struck the side of the Melia’s Dream before the enemy ship became aware of the reinforcements bearing down on it. Turning, it made all speed to rejoin its brethren.
James sighed in relief when Kendrick’s ship finally passed between Warlord Azkimal’s and to the safety beyond.
“It isn’t over yet,” warned Jiron.
“I know,” he replied. “At least for the moment, they are safe.”
“Safe, but crippled.”
James nodded.
Panning back, he scrolled to the waters north of Kendrick’s position. Other than a multitude of private ships fleeing the combat zone and a second armada of warships making for the enemy, the way was clear.
Returning to Melia’s Dream, they found the hole in the mainsail had been patched with a smaller sail.
“I doubt that will last in rough seas,” commented Father Keller.
A city appeared on the shoreline to the north and Kendrick had altered course to make for it.
“Tearlan,” James announced. “He’s making for Tearlan.”
Tearlan was a trading city of modest size with a dock capable of handling no more than ten ships at any one time. Only two were currently at anchor. Armed men kept an area in front of two warehouses clear as sailors and porters worked in a frenzied rush to transfer cargo to the ships. Several motionless forms lying at their feet indicated they had utilized strong measures to keep it so.
“Is he crazy?
James glanced to Scar.
“They’ll mob him.”
“I don’t think he has a choice,” James replied. “They need a new mainsail.”
Jiron nodded. “That patch-job won’t last very long if a serious gale were to develop.”
“But,” added Potbelly, “Port May is just on the other side of the island. And it is swarming with enemy soldiers.”
“I don’t think Kendrick realizes that,” James said.
Scrolling the view westward across the island, hundreds of panicked people appeared as they fled the carnage at Port May. Not far behind came three hundred soldiers marching in tight ranks. At the head of the soldiers’ columns, horses pulled four flatbed wagons, upon each rode a tonsured man and a magical device identical to that which were on the ships. The devices were secured to a raised platform that placed it just above the level of the horses’ heads to allow them to fire forward without fear of hitting the horses.
“They mean business,” commented Potbelly.
“Yes, but where do they come from?” Scar spat.
James turned to Scar. “Get the captain.”
The Pit Master nodded and grabbed Potbelly. Together they went to where the captain knelt by the fallen sailor Father Vickor still worked to save.
In the mirror, Melia’s Dream drew ever closer to Tearlan. Kendrick gazed at the maelstrom of humanity that churned on the docks through a spyglass. James prayed he would reconsider and veer off. Necessity must have overcame good sense for he kept their heading. As they drew closer, hundreds of people swarmed along the dock toward them waving and shouting for them to dock and save them.
“Come on, don’t do it.” James murmured, “It’s way too risky.”
As Kendrick slowed the ship, it soon became clear that the dock was not his destination. He came up alongside the nearest, moored ship. The other captain came to the rail and after a brief discussion during which Kendrick gestured repeatedly to his ruined mainsail, lines were tossed and Melia’s Dream was secured to the other.
A cry went up from the townsfolk when it became clear that Kendrick had no intentions of rescue.
Seven of Kendrick’s men hopped over the rail to the other ship and rushed into the larger of the two warehouses. They emerged a short time later with a large rolled-up sail.
“Here he is,” Scar said and nudged a reluctant Captain Anyn forward.
“Uh, how may I be of service?”
James waved him forward and held up his mirror. The captain’s eyes widened as he saw the situation unfold upon the docks of Tearlan.
“Corillian has fallen,” James explained, “as has Port May. Tearlan is next.” The scene shifted to ships locked in battle. “Warlord Azkimal is putting up a good fight,” a beam of golden light bored a hole through the side of one of the warlord’s ships, “but as you can see, it is in vain. The enemy is much too powerful for him to prevail.
“We’ve encountered ships in this area so it is safe to assume that their intentions entail far more than simply taking over a few island cities.”
The captain nodded.
“Do you have any idea who they are?”
The captain shook his head, “No. The cut of their ships is different than anything that sails these waters.”
One of the captain’s crew stepped forward. “Might they be the Farlanders, Captain?”
“Bah,” Captain Anyn replied dismissively, “they are but a legend.”
“Legend?” queried James. He eyed the captain.
“It’s an old seaman tale like women who swim under the waves and giant leviathans that swallow ships whole.”
“In light of the mysterious origins of these ships,” Miko interjected, “this legend may have some basis.”
Captain Anyn flashed the sailor an annoyed look, then turned to James. “There isn’t much to the legend other than that far beyond the end of the world, where the sea ends, there lies a land of seafaring people.
“Every now and again, a tale will surface of a ship being sighted far out to sea on the horizon’s edge just as the dawn breaks only to vanish once the sun rises free of the water. Superstitious nonsense if you ask me.”
James eyed the captain and the sailor. “Is that all?”
They both nodded.
“Scar,” James said, “you and Potbelly question the other sailors and see if any knows something more.”
“Think this could be them?”
He turned to Jiron. “It’s likely. Ships different than those in commission here; sailors and priests bearing an insignia no one recognizes; and a magical device that is unlike anything else we know… A far away land looks to be the most likely probability. If any of this had been developed anywhere near here, someone would have gotten wind of it before now. Distance is the only answer for such secrecy.”
“Smoke!” came the cry from the Crow’s Nest.
“Where away?”
Before the sailor could answer, the black plume appeared off the port side and some distance ahead. The ship had been one of Warlord Halim’s from the looks of her. It listed badly and there was not a sign of life either on the ship or in the water.
“Looks like they got another,” murmured Shorty.
“They’ll have a lot more before they are through I’d wager,” Scar replied.
Potbelly watched the smoke rise and asked, “Through with what?”
“Don’t care right now,” James replied. “All that matters is reaching our families and ensuring their safety.”
“And taking out anyone that stands in our way.”
James turned to Jiron and saw the grim set of his eyes. “Agreed.”
Chapter Forty-Three
“He’ll live,” Father Vickor announced as he rejoined the others.
&nbs
p; “That is good news,” Miko replied.
Captain Anyn and another sailor helped the one that Tinok had nearly slain to the crew quarters.
Scar and Potbelly approached.
“No one knows anything more about the Farlanders,” Scar said.
James nodded from where he sat cross-legged looking into his mirror. The Melia’s Dream now had their newly acquired mainsail in place and was making good time. Four other ships had joined Kendrick in his bid for freedom. Three were merchantmen while the fourth was a small private yacht fairly bursting at the seams with people.
The enemy had completely wiped out Warlord Azkimal’s ships and now held complete mastery of the waters surrounding Corillian and the island’s southern half.
To the west, Warlord Halim’s navy still fought but were quickly being overwhelmed. It wouldn’t be long until all opposition had been dealt with.
“He’s making for the top of the island,” James announced.
“Hoping to get to Cardri I’d imagine,” Jiron said.
Per James’ instructions, Captain Anyn had altered course to intercept the Melia’s Dream after it makes the turn at the island’s tip in the vicinity of the Isle of Carut. They were still a couple hours away.
After taking another scan of the area between where Kendrick and the others were and the Isle of Carut to ensure there were no enemy ships in the vicinity, James checked the water from the Isle to him. Not finding any, he gave a relieved sigh and canceled the magic.
“Almost there.”
Jira gave her uncle a hug. “Mother’s going to be so happy.”
“Or mad,” Scar jested. “Never know with a woman.”
Potbelly laughed. “You got that right. Remember that time over in Karnellian? We saved that wench from the soul sucking lotus demon, as well as reunited her with her long lost twin sister that she never knew she had, and yet she was still mad at us for her having missed tea with her mother.”
“Well,” argued Scar, “we never did really adequately prove that her father was the lotus demon and that was why we had to kill him. She could have been put off a bit because of that.”
Tides of Faith: Travail of The Dark Mage Book Two Page 54
