by Dean Cadman
“I guess so,” Neala agreed, hobbling towards the Captain’s cabin.
Lusam knocked twice on the door and opened it.
“Come in,” Captain Waylon said when he saw it was them. Lusam almost didn’t notice Lamar standing behind the door. He stood perfectly still staring blankly into the mirror on the wall, and made no indication that he had even noticed them enter the room.
“How is he?” Lusam asked in a low voice.
“I suppose that depends on who you ask, lad,” Captain Waylon replied, cryptically. Lusam was about to ask him what he meant by that, but it became self-evident when Lamar began to speak.
“I… I don’ understand Capt’n. How’d I get so old lookin’?” he said, prodding at his wrinkled face in the mirror and looking at his hands. “And why does me head hurt s’ much?”
Lusam looked at Captain Waylon for guidance, but he only raised his eyebrows and shrugged. “What’s the last thing ya remember, Lamar?” Captain Waylon asked.
Lamar looked at the Captain through the mirror and his eyes widened. “Seven Hells, Capt’n, even you’ve gone and got old!”
“Thanks,” Captain Waylon replied, sarcastically. “Come and sit down over ’ere, and we’ll try t’ explain things to ya.” Lamar seemed to suddenly notice Lusam and Neala in the room and gave them a wary look as he went to sit down opposite the Captain.
“So… what’s the last thing ya remember, Lamar?” Captain Waylon asked again.
Lamar thought for a moment before answering, then said, “Ya mean apart from wakin’ up in ya cabin with this stinkin’ head, and lookin’ like I’m about t’ meet me maker any minute, Capt’n?”
Captain Waylon smiled at his old friend. “At least ya sense of humour is still intact.”
“Aye, Capt’n, but that’s about all that is, judging by what’s lookin’ back at me in that mirror over there,” Lamar replied. “And why aren’t we underway, Capt’n? Did we ’ave to return t’ port for somethin’ whilst I was out of it? Garland ain’t gonna be ’appy if ’is shipment o’ wheat is late again. Ya know how he gets, Capt’n.”
Captain Waylon gave him a sympathetic look and sighed. “Lamar, Garland has been dead for almost twenty years now.”
“What ya talking about Capt’n, we only saw the man two weeks ago,” Lamar replied, looking at the Captain strangely.
Captain Waylon shook his head slowly. “No, Lamar, we didn’t. I know this is gonna be hard t’ swallow for ya, but ya’ve been very ill for a long time. Do ya remember having any problems with ya memory at all?”
“O’ course Capt’n, it’s nay secret that I forget things from time t’ time. But we’ve already ’ad this talk, though. Me memory ain’t that bad,” Lamar replied, trying to make light of the situation.
“Aye, Lamar, we did, but that was also more than twenty years ago.”
Lamar searched Captain Waylon’s face for any signs of levity, and when he didn’t see any, the sudden realisation of his situation seemed to hit him hard. He slumped into a chair opposite the Captain and looked again at his badly wrinkled hands, only this time the look of denial was absent from his face.
Captain Waylon spent more than an hour explaining what had happened to him, and how his missing years had been spent aboard the Pelorus. He seemed to accept everything the Captain said, and even confirmed that he had clouded memories of certain events during the last twenty years. Lusam and Neala had already left the cabin so they could speak alone, knowing that many of the things they needed to discuss would be private, or at least difficult to talk about in front of strangers.
When Lusam and Neala were eventually called back to the Captain’s cabin, they found a very different Lamar waiting for them there. One who looked even older than he had before—if that was even possible. He watched Lusam warily as he and Neala crossed the small room and sat down in the comfortable chairs by the window. Captain Waylon was the first to speak, easing the sudden tension within the room.
“I’ve explained what I can to Lamar, ’ere, and as ya can imagine, he’s still a tad confused about some things. Many of ’em I wouldn’t have a clue how t’ answer, so I suggested he might wanna speak t’ you about ’em,” Captain Waylon said, looking directly at Lusam.
“Of course,” Lusam replied, turning his attention to Lamar. “What is it that you’d like to know, Lamar?”
Lamar looked towards the Captain and he nodded, indicating that he should speak to Lusam. “Beggin’ ya pardon, sir, but I was wonderin’ if ya could fix the rest of me, like ya did me melon,” Lamar said, tapping himself on the head. Lusam was a little confused at first as to what he meant, but soon realised what he was asking of him.
Lusam slowly shook his head. “I’m afraid even I can’t turn back time, Lamar. I’m sorry.”
“Aye, that be what the Capt’n said too, son, but I figured it was worth asking ya all the same. I’ll be thanking ya anyway for what ya done t’ me. Capt’n says I was as useless as torn mainsail before that. He also says ya did it because ya needed t’ ask me ’bout somethin’ or t’other?”
“Yeah, that’s right. I don’t suppose you remember speaking to me once before, do you?”
Lamar squinted, as if straining his ancient eyes to get a better look at Lusam’s face. “Nay, son, I can’t say as I do, sorry.”
“That’s alright,” Lusam said. “It was during the summer when I was studying an old journal on the foredeck. You overheard me reading a passage from it and when I mentioned the name of a particular place, you said that you knew where it was. But when I asked you about it, you were already… unable to tell me anything more about it.”
Lamar nodded slowly. “And what place would that be, son?”
Lusam’s heart began to flutter in his chest, as he realised this was the moment that could quite possibly dictate not only his but everyone else’s fate in the entire world. Without the knowledge he sought, it was only a matter of time before Aamon eventually won, and the world was left in ruins. He took a deep breath to steady himself, not knowing what he would do if Lamar didn’t possess the knowledge he needed so badly.
“Lohlaen, on The Pearl Isles,” Lusam said, watching Lamar’s face closely and holding his breath. A strange look of confusion crossed Lamar’s face and Lusam’s heart sank when he shook his head a moment later.
“Nay, son, I don’t know where The Pearl Isles be, sorry.” Lusam’s head dropped at the news, and Neala cursed under her breath.
“The only Lohlaen I knows of is on Monmeriath, a small island, a long ways to the south of ’ere.”
“Can you show me, on a map?” Lusam asked excitedly, all of his despair suddenly forgotten.
“Aye, that I can, son,” Lamar said, looking towards the Captain who was already retrieving several sea charts from a cupboard behind him. He unfurled one, then quickly replaced it with another that showed the entire southern coastline of Afaraon. Lamar stepped towards the Captain’s desk and pointed to an empty spot of ocean on the map.
“Monmeriath Isle be there, son, fifty miles due south of the Kurnn Straights,” Lamar said. Lusam noticed Captain Waylon frown at Lamar’s words and then give him a puzzled look. But before Lusam could ask what the problem was, he spoke up.
“Lamar, there’s nothin’ there, man. The chart doesn’t show anything but ocean for miles around.”
“Beggin’ ya pardon, Capt’n, but ya chart be wrong. Monmeriath Isle is there, I seen it with me own eyes, sir.”
“Seen it? When did ya see it?” Captain Waylon asked. Lamar opened his mouth to speak but suddenly paused.
“I… I… I can’t rightly remember, Capt’n—but I knows it t’ be true, I swears it t’ ya.”
Captain Waylon cursed under his breath. “The Kurnn Straights…” he whispered to himself, slowly shaking his head.
“What’s the Kurnn Straights?” Neala asked.
Captain Waylon looked up from his chart at her. “Oh… they’re only the most treacherous waters anywhere in the known world, lass, that’
s all. There are stories of the ocean’s surface bubbling and boiling there for no apparent reason. And perfectly good ships instantly vanishing below the waves without warning, taking their entire crews along with ’em. I’ve also heard other stories which tell o’ razor-sharp pinnacles o’ rock hidden just under the surface, ready to rip the bowels out o’ any ship foolish enough to try an’ navigate its waters.”
“Aye, that all be true, Capt’n, but I knows a way t’ navigate through those straights.”
“How long will it take us to get there?” Lusam asked, looking at the spot on the chart that Lamar had indicated.
Captain Waylon laughed mirthlessly. “Ya can’t be serious, lad? Ya really expect me t’ take my ship into the most dangerous waters known to exist, t’ look for an island that no one has even heard of, and all on the say so of a craz…”
“A crazy old man,” Lamar finished for him.
Captain Waylon sighed loudly. “I’m sorry, Lamar. I didn’t mean it that way.”
“Nay, it be fine, Capt’n. I knows that I might be a tad soft in m’ melon… and I’m certainly old,” he said, looking once more at his badly wrinkled hands, before meeting the Captain’s eyes once more, “but I knows what I knows. And I knows where Monmeriath Isle be, and how t’ get t’ it.”
“Captain, I know what I’m about to ask you to do will be very difficult, but I need you to trust me on this and allow Lamar to guide us to Monmeriath Isle. He’s the only person in the world who knows its location, and more importantly how to reach it. I give you my word that I’ll do everything within my power to ensure the safety of your ship and its crew during the voyage,” Lusam said.
Captain Waylon looked at Lusam for several seconds before replying. “And it’s really so important that we go there?”
“You have no idea, Captain. All I can tell you is, if I fail to find what I’m looking for, it may very well put everything, and everyone we know in grave danger.
Captain Waylon remained silent for a long time, staring at the sea chart in front of him. Eventually, he nodded slowly and grunted. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, lad, but we leave for the Kurnn Straights within the hour.”
Lusam released his pent-up breath with an audible sigh of relief. “Thank you, Captain,” he said, looking over at Lamar and praying that he hadn’t just made a fatal mistake by trusting his flawed memories.
Chapter Twelve
A loud knock came at the door, startling Tiana and Avril as they sat quietly at the kitchen table. It had been two days since Tiana had plunged the knife into her cousin’s husband’s back and killed him, and since then they had been visited twice by members of his clan trying to find out why he had not attended his clan duties. Avril had been convincing in her lies. She had told them that her husband had gone to check on his snares and traps for fresh meat and that she’d not seen him since he’d left two days previously. The men seemed to take Avril at her word on their first visit, laughing and joking between themselves that her husband had probably got his head caught in one of his own traps, or fallen down a burrow drunk. But their second visit a day later had not been so jovial. They had left Avril in no doubt that if her husband did not return and fulfil his duties soon, he would forfeit all of his land, property and belongings to his clan, and she and her family would be cast out onto the streets—as was the law in The Badlands.
The loud knock came again, this time accompanied by a man’s voice.
“Open the door. We know you’re in there.”
Tiana looked across the table at Avril and saw her eyes wide with fear as she looked towards the barred door. A sudden rhythmic thudding made them both startle, as something was hammered into the other side of the wooden door—then nothing but silence. Tiana scarcely dared to breathe as she hugged her two small children close to her bosom. Avril sat stock-still, quivering with fear and transfixed on the door as if expecting it to explode inwards at any moment.
Several more minutes of tense silence followed before anyone even dared to move within the small kitchen. Tiana placed a finger to her lips, indicating that her children, Gia and Rylee, should remain silent, then crouched down low and made her way towards the kitchen window. She listened intently for any signs of movement outside, but all she could hear was the occasional bleating of a goat, or the caws of a crow. Carefully she raised her head towards the window and peered out, then released her pent-up breath when she saw they were no longer there. But her fear was immediately replaced by a mixture of relief and guilt.
Tiana sat with her back against the wall helplessly watching her cousin cry. She knew her tears were not for her dead husband, but for what lay ahead for herself, and possibly even for her and the children. Their situation was beyond hopeless. Tiana had already seen what happened to her servant, Ida, when she had been cast out onto the streets by Avril’s husband, and knew that their fate would be no better. She also knew that they couldn’t flee north, back to Thule, nor could they flee south, to Edrana, as their borders were just as well protected against incursions from The Badlands as the Empire’s. Not that they could have possibly survived the journey alone through The Badlands anyway. If they weren’t killed by rival clans or wild animals, the harsh environment would no doubt kill them anyway.
“I’m so sorry,” Tiana said in a hushed voice, knowing her words would change nothing. Avril looked over at her, but Tiana couldn’t read any expression on her face, other than despair. Tiana’s daughter, Gia, had gone over to try and comfort Avril after seeing her cry, but Avril seemed almost unaware of the young girl clinging to her arm. Tiana stood up and moved towards the door.
“No! Don’t open it,” Avril said desperately, in a low voice.
Tiana turned to face her cousin. “It’s alright, Avril, they’ve gone.” Avril tore her wide-eyed gaze away from the barred door to look at Tiana’s face, but returned her attention back to the door a heartbeat later. Tiana wished she felt as confident about the men having left as she had just sounded to her cousin. She placed an ear to the door and listened carefully, but heard nothing. She peered through a tiny crack between two wooden planks of the door but saw nothing move outside. Taking a deep breath, she carefully removed the wooden bar from behind the door and stood it up against the wall. Then as quietly as she could, she unlatched and opened the door. She reached out through the small gap and tore free the notice that the men had attached, then quickly closed and barred the door again. Her heart thundered in her chest and her legs went weak. She slid down the door and sat with her back pressed against it, whilst trying to calm her breathing. When she finally looked at the piece of paper in her hand, she suddenly felt like she wanted to be sick.
In his absence, Vanga Levak has been tried and found guilty of dereliction of his duties to the Kraell clan. His sentence has been determined as permanent banishment from the Kraell clan and the Gyord Valley. By order of Draek, The Mighty, you are hereby given until sunset tomorrow to surrender your lands and property in their entirety to the Kraell clan. Failure to comply with this notice will result in the sentence of banishment being revoked, and a new sentence of death by hanging issued in its stead.
Tiana stared at the notice for a long time in stunned silence. It might as well have had hers and her children’s names written on it too, because come sunset tomorrow all their lives would be over. She struggled to stop the bile threatening to rise from her stomach. Shakily, Tiana got to her feet and shuffled slowly over to the kitchen table. Avril never took her eyes off the notice in Tiana’s hand, but when she placed it on the table in front of her, she suddenly looked far too scared to even look at it.
“Not that it makes much difference, but it doesn’t mention you at all,” Tiana said, nodding towards the notice. Avril looked up at Tiana as if her words had startled her out of some fanciful daydream, then she quickly looked back down at the notice. Avril reached out hesitantly as if it might burn her on contact, and picked it up using only two fingers. Her face started to contort as she began reading the w
ords, and tears welled in the corner of her eyes. Her free hand came up to cover her mouth as if trying to hold back her unbridled sobs. Then she suddenly squealed in fear and dropped the piece of paper on the floor. She stood up sharply, knocking over her chair with a loud clatter and almost sending Gia sprawling onto the floor when she inadvertently dragged her arm away from the little girl’s grasp.
“No! No… no,” Avril repeated, over and over, visibly shaking from head to toe as she stared at the piece of paper on the floor. Tiana walked towards her, intending to try and offer comfort, but Avril held up her hand to stop her. “NO! … Get away from me! They’re going to kill me because of you! IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT!” she shouted at Tiana.
“But… it doesn’t even mention your name, Avril,” Tiana replied, confused by her cousin’s sudden outburst. Avril had been the one to explain the consequences of Tiana’s actions after she’d killed her husband two days ago. So it seemed strange that she would now suddenly react this way.
“Of course it mentions me, you fool! It says that he has to surrender all of his land and property—that includes me! In The Badlands, a wife is her husband’s property. And now you’ve condemned me to certain death with your reckless actions!”
“But he would have killed you if I hadn’t done what I did.”
“Better to have died by his hands than to suffer what will now befall me,” Avril sobbed, tugging at her own hair in desperation. Gia and Rylee came running to their mother’s side and hugged her tightly, obviously frightened by the sudden outburst from Avril.
“Gia, can you please take Rylee into the other room and play with him for a while?” Tiana asked, stroking her daughter’s long dark hair. Gia looked up at her mother and nodded.
“Come on, Rylee, let’s go and play,” she said, taking hold of her little brother’s hand and half-dragging him away from his mother. He didn’t complain, but gave his mother a worried look as he vanished through the doorway with his big sister. Tiana waited a moment until the door was closed and the children were out of earshot before continuing with the conversation. They had already suffered enough, and this might very well be their final day of this life. She wouldn’t make it a miserable one for them, if she could avoid it.
