Redemption (Book 6)

by Ben Cassidy

  The ship pitched heavily to the side.

  Kendril slammed against the bulkhead, grunting in pain at the impact. He saw stars for a moment, but shook them away from his vision.

  Atherton was walking down towards the hatchway that led up to the deck.

  Kendril started forward, one hand wrapped around his chest. “I’m sorry, Atherton. Please....”

  Atherton kept walking. He disappeared around the corner.

  Kendril staggered down the hold of the ship. The deck tilted and reeled underneath him as he walked.

  Outside rain hammered the deck. A wave sent the ship spinning dizzily to the portside.

  Kendril pushed off the hull of the ship where he had been thrown. He grunted with pain at each step, but didn’t stop. “Atherton,” he choked. “Atherton.”

  It wasn’t real. He knew it couldn’t be. But he also couldn’t stop. Olan had been right. He had damned himself, thrown away his redemption and his penance for a chance at saving Redemption. And even that had been a failure.

  Kendril moved up the stairs to the deck hatch. He pushed against the covered hatchway, feeling the weight of the wind and water pounding against it. With a final grunt and push the hatchway came loose. Kendril crawled out onto the deck.

  The wind tore the ocean over the surface of the deck in great white swathes. Rain sliced down from broiling clouds. Massive troths of water appeared on either side of the ship.

  Kendril fell to his hands and knees on the deck. The pain in his side was intense. He had only been out of the hold for a few seconds, but he was already soaked to the bone.

  Atherton stood in the middle of the deck, his hands folded behind his back.

  Kendril tried to crawl forward.

  The deck tilted crazily.

  Kendril slammed flat onto his face, hugging the wet surface of the deck for all he was worth.

  More wind and water tore over him. He was so cold and wet he could barely breathe.

  Atherton turned and looked at him. He seemed unaffected by the raging storm all around them. “You still have a penance to pay, Kendril,” he called out.

  “Atherton,” Kendril sputtered. He raised himself to his knees. “Forgive me, please.”

  Atherton smiled. Only suddenly, inexplicably, it wasn’t Atherton anymore.

  It was Bronwyn.

  She stood in the middle of the deck, a triumphant smirk on her face. “Goodbye, Kendril,” she said.

  Kendril was shocked into silence for a moment. He tried to pull himself up,

  The ship began to roll crazily.

  A roar to Kendril’s right caused him to turn his head.

  A towering black wave almost as high as the ship’s mast rolled out of the darkness.

  Kendril turned, looking for something to grab hold of.

  There was nothing around him.

  He snapped his head back to the right.

  A wall of frothing white water slammed into him.

  Chapter 24

  The sea was calm.

  Sun shone off the water, glittering and dancing on the smooth surface of the ocean. The breeze which wafted over the deck was gentle and warm, smelling of salt and distant lands.

  The three-day storm that had beaten and pummeled the ship, breaking the central mast and sweeping seven people overboard, seemed almost like a distant dream.

  Almost.

  Kara leaned against the ship’s railing, feeling the warm sun on her back. She stared blankly out at the slowly tossing sea. The breeze caught her hair and tufted it gently.

  “The captain says we’ve been blown far to the south.” Joseph came up beside Kara. He leaned on the railing. “Close to the Spice Lands.” He looked out across the sparkling blue water. “We have to watch for corsairs and slavers here. They like to hug the coastlines.”

  Kara didn’t reply.

  Joseph scratched his beard. “We’ll find him, Kara.”

  “How?” Kara’s voice was bleak, a monotone. “Even if by some miracle he did manage to survive the storm, how could we ever find him in the whole ocean?” She looked down at the railing. “I can’t believe—” She cut herself off, choking off the words before they could be spoken.

  Joseph put an arm around her shoulders.

  “I thought,” Kara said, “that I could save him.”

  “You did,” Joseph said softly.

  “For what? So that he could be washed overboard?” Kara shook his head. “Why would he even come out on the deck when he was injured, in the middle of a storm? It doesn’t matter. He’s dead. All that, and he’s dead.”

  Joseph looked out again at the water. “We don’t know that,” he said quietly.

  “No one could survive that storm, Joseph.” Kara stared bleakly out at the sea. “It’s not possible.”

  “We saw him charge an open gate of the Void and survive,” Joseph said. He squeezed Kara’s shoulder. “Have some faith, Kara.”

  Kara looked down at the peeled paint of the railing. “I’m not even sure what to have faith in anymore, Joseph. First Maklavir, and now Kendril. It’s like Eru is peeling away everyone I—” Her voice broke off.

  “You still have me,” Joseph said firmly. “We’ll find Maklavir, and we’ll find Kendril too.”

  Kara looked up at the bearded man. “You really believe that, don’t you?”

  Joseph gave a crooked grin. “I believed in your dreams, and I followed you all the way to Redemption because of it. I didn’t believe you when you said that water from the temple could be important, and it was.” Joseph glanced down at the deck. “I...stopped believing for a while, Kara. When you were in your coma. I don’t want to go back to that again.”

  Kara leaned in and kissed Joseph on the cheek. “I don’t know what I would do without you, Joseph,” she whispered. “You’ve always been here for me.”

  “And I always will,” Joseph said. He gave a sly smile. “At least as long as you promise not to take on any more pagan gods with nothing but a bow and some wet arrows.”

  Kara elbowed him in the side with a smile. She grew serious and glanced out at the sea again. “Do you...think there’s a chance he’s alive, Joseph?”

  Joseph shrugged. “You were the one who said he was the chosen one, remember? The man who would defeat the Seteru?”

  Kara’s face changed. “The raven in the sea,” she said quietly.

  Joseph gave her a confused glance, but didn’t say anything.

  “Ship ahoy!” came a call from one of the sailors.

  Joseph turned, interested.

  Bobbing on the northern horizon of the ocean was another large sailing ship.

  Beckett came over, frowning at the distant ship. “Corsairs, do you think?”

  Joseph shook his head. “I don’t know.” He glanced back at Kara, who still leaned dejectedly against the railing. “We’re out of sight of land.” He shaded his eyes as he looked. “Could be pirates. Or maybe just another ship caught in the storm.”

  Beckett spat over the railing of the ship. “If it’s pirates or corsairs, I think they’ll find us more than a handful, broken mast or not.”

  As the ship drifted closer it became clear that it was no corsair galley. It also didn’t appear to be a pirate ship.

  “Looks to be Llewyllian by her cut,” Colonel Root announced. “Or possibly Calbraithan.”

  Beckett snorted. “Either way, she’s a long way from home.”

  “So are we,” Joseph observed quietly.

  The ship was close enough now to make out details. It looked battered and beaten from the storm, with rigging askew and at least one mast damaged. Colors flew from the stern.

  Joseph squinted, trying to see in the sunlight. The ensign looked to be that of Llewyllan.

  The ship began to hoist signals.

  Beckett looked back at Root. “Don’t suppose you can read those, Colonel?”

  Root gave a shake of his head. “Sorry, not enough salt in me for that.”

  Joseph turned and climbed up to the quarterdec
k.

  The captain, a portly Arbelan merchant with thick whiskers and a gold earring in one ear, watched carefully through a spyglass. He glanced up as Joseph approached.

  “Not pirates, I hope?” Joseph asked in what he hoped was a jesting tone.

  The captain put the glass back to his eye. “No, sir. Much too big. And flying Llewyllian colors to boot.”

  Joseph nodded. “I noticed.”

  “She’s asking if we need assistance,” the captain continued. “In the state we’re in, I’d be a fool to say no. We’ve taken on a lot of water, and our hold is packed with sick and wounded.” He glanced at the broken mast in the center of the deck. “With our mast down, we’re in a tight spot.”

  Joseph nodded. “Are you sending a boat over?”

  “Aye.” The captain lowered his glass and signaled to the first mate.

  “I’d be happy to go along,” Joseph said, looking over at the ship again. “I spent some time in Llewyllan. I was there during the failed revolution they had a while back.”

  The captain arched an eyebrow. “No enemies made there, I hope?”

  Joseph chuckled. “No. Some good friends, actually.”

  The captain pondered a moment, then nodded. “Alright. Go ahead.”

  Joseph soon found himself regretting the trip. He had thought that after the storm of the last few days his seasickness couldn’t get any worse, but being in a small dinghy tossed about by the large blue waves he was soon feeling quite nauseous again.

  The Llewyllian ship had a rope ladder lowered over the side for them. The sailors in the dinghy scrambled up with no problem.

  Joseph, on the other hand, made at least a half dozen unsuccessful grabs at the swaying rope, almost ending up in the ocean twice and almost crushing himself against the side of the large ship at least three times. He found himself throwing out several oaths he hadn’t used since before he had gone to seminary.

  When he finally did get onto the deck, his right boot was soaked, and his side was sore from where it had slammed against the hull of the ship.

  A group of Llewyllians were gathered on the deck. To Joseph’s relief, they were dressed in military uniforms.

  Not pirates, then. Joseph had had enough of that for a lifetime.

  He started to speak, when he noticed something about the men’s uniforms.

  They were white, with the peacock of Llewyllan emblazoned on the front.

  Joseph frowned. When he had been in Llewyllan, that had been the uniform of the Royal Guard.

  The captain of the ship stepped forward. He bowed to Joseph and the other sailors from the grain ship. “We would be happy to provide you with any assistance that you might require, but I regret that we are on an important diplomatic mission. We cannot afford to be delayed for long.”

  The first mate of the grain ship nodded. “We don’t ask for much, sir. If you have any spare water, or perhaps a carpenter that could assist us in repairs?”

  Joseph’s mind was only half on the conversation. He looked at the Royal Guards gathered on the deck, then up at the ensign of Llewyllan. He glanced back down at the captain. “Excuse me, sir.”

  The captain and first mate ceased their conversation. They turned their eyes on Joseph.

  “What kind of diplomatic mission are you embarked on, exactly?” Joseph asked.

  The captain hesitated for a moment. He opened his mouth to answer.

  “Joseph?”

  The voice came from behind him. A woman’s voice.

  Joseph turned slowly around.

  She was there, standing by the hatchway, flanked on either side by white-uniformed Royal Guards. Her long blonde hair was tied back in a simple braid, and she was dressed in a dress the color of seafoam. A golden circlet with a single large pearl was around her forehead.

  Joseph felt his tongue go numb. He stared at the woman for a moment. “Jade?” he said, half in a whisper.

  The two Royal Guards frowned.

  Joseph quickly recovered. He bowed on one knee. “I...I’m sorry. I mean, Your Majesty, I—”

  Queen Serentha of Llewyllan flew across the deck before either of the Guards could prevent her. She wrapped her arms tightly across Joseph and pulled him back to his feet. “Tuldor’s beard,” she said with a sparkling laugh, “I never thought I’d see you again. And certainly not like this.”

  Joseph grinned sheepishly, trying to ignore the dark glares the Royal Guards were giving him. “I—it’s good to see you too, Your Majesty.”

  “You don’t have to keep calling me that,” Serentha said. “I wasn’t a queen when I first met you, remember?”

  Joseph glanced at the two Royal Guards. “I think things might have changed slightly since then, Your Majesty.”

  Serentha stepped back and gave an understanding smile. “It’s been so long, Joseph. I want to know everything that’s happened to you.”

  The captain cleared his throat. “Um, Your Majesty, I should remind you of—”

  Serentha waved a hand. “Oh please, Sollenfeld. The caliph and his dreadful vizier can wait for a little bit, I’m sure.”

  Joseph smiled. “Whatever you would like, Your Majesty.”

  Serentha glanced over at the grain ship, her face suddenly growing both hopeful and nervous at the same time. “I—don’t suppose...” She grasped her hands in front of her, nervously twiddling them together. “That is to say...” She took a breath. “Kendril, Joseph. Is he with you?”

  Joseph opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

  He couldn’t think of anything to say.

  There was warm sand against his cheek.

  Kendril opened his eyes slowly, blinking painfully.

  A brilliant world of yellow beach glared back him. His ears were filled with the soft roar of ocean breakers behind him and the cries of seagulls above him.

  Kendril coughed. Each breath stabbed him in the chest like a hot knife. He reached forward, and his hand grabbed a fistful of warm sand.

  Land. He had made it to land. How, he didn’t know. His last memory was floating and fighting for life in the darkness of the storm and the impossible waves of the ocean.

  Eru had cursed him. There was no other explanation. Death was too merciful for him. He was living out his penance all over again.

  For Celeste. For Atherton.

  A horse snorted nearby. The jangle of reins sounded over the soothing roar of the ocean.

  Kendril moved his head, slowly and jerkily. Rough sand stuck to his cheek. He tried to blink the sand and salt out of his eyes.

  There were riders on horseback, not too far away. Their shapes were silhouetted against the bright blue sky.

  Kendril tried to speak, but he was too weak. He merely managed to cough and sputter, causing more cringing pain in his side.

  That’s when he noticed it.

  Behind the riders were people on foot in a long line. Their hands were shackled together in chains and manacles.

  Kendril put his head back down onto the warm sand.

  And then the darkness took him once again.

  For thrilling action adventure set in the “sword and planet” setting of the Two Rings, check out these collections of novellas, also by Ben Cassidy:

  Daughter of Llathe: A Tale of the Two Rings

  Tales of the Two Rings: Volume 1

  Tales of the Two Rings: Volume 2

  About the Author:

  Ben Cassidy lives in Vancouver, WA, with his wife and three children. He pursued graduate studies in history for several years until he decided that reading six scholarly books a week was not challenging enough for him, and so switched to being a stay-at-home dad. He has been writing since he was in third grade, though now he is able to bribe other people to do the illustrating for him. He has the uncanny habit of writing of himself in the third person, and is disturbed by how easily his whole life can be summed up in four sentences. Or even five.

  Connect with Me Online:

  Email list for New Releases: ChroniclesofZanthora@yahoo.
com

  Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Ben-Cassidy/393172364133550?ref=hl

  Note from the Author:

  I need your help.

  When you publish independently, you have to do everything yourself. I’m not just writing and dreaming up plotlines and characters. I’m editing, formatting, and marketing my books as well. All that takes time, and most of it I’m not very good at.

  There is no marketing campaign behind me. No major publishing house. No motivated literary agent watching my back. It’s just me. And in this e-book age, a successful writer needs positive word-of-mouth to succeed.

  If you liked what you just read, if you want to see more of the characters and the worlds I am creating, then take five minutes to help me out. Publish a review of my work online. You’d be amazed how important reviews are, and how few readers do it. Click on my facebook link (above) and like my page. Sign up for my update email list, ChroniclesofZanthora@yahoo.com. I promise I will only send emails to you when I’m coming out with a new piece of fiction.

  And above all, tell a friend that you liked my work. Blog, twitter, tweet, text, facebook, or telegraph other people about me.

  And thank you for reading what I have written. If even for a moment you found yourself standing under the twin moons of a distant world, or smelled the stench of gunpowder and crisp tang of blood, then I consider my work well done.

  Continued in Book Seven of the Chronicles of Zanthora:

  The Raven in the Sea

  Coming Soon

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11