by PT Hylton
Benjamin knew what she was going to ask, so he said it for her. “You want me to go with you.”
Syd looked away. “No, actually. I want you to stay behind. I’m putting you in charge of The Foggy Day in my absence.”
He took a moment to absorb his surprise before answering. “I’m not even a stormship sailor.”
“You may not have noticed, but we’re not sailing. The ship’s docked. I don’t need a sailor. I need a fighter. I need someone I can trust. And that’s you, blacksmith.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
She gestured to the parchment. “You don’t have to say anything. It’s already official. I wrote it in the journal.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
The team for the mission to find the Tall Grass Raiders gathered on the dock the next morning. It was Abbey, Dustin, Viktor, Clemens, Olaf, Fannar and Syd.
Fannar’s hand kept nervously drifting to the handle of his seax, which he wore across the small of his back. “I’ve heard stories about Ragnar’s men. They were brutal to their enemies during the war.”
Abbey raised an eyebrow. “Unlike the rest of you Barskall, who are so cuddly?”
“Ragnar was a different breed. Barskall have always loved to raid, to take things that belonged to others in order to gain riches for themselves. Ragnar’s army would burn down villages simply to watch them turn to ash.”
“I have heard much the same,” Viktor said. “Though it’s worth remembering, or at least considering, if that’s the word, that the tales we heard were told by the winning side. Ragnar would probably have had some less than pleasant things to say about Elias and his army. At least, one would assume.”
“Either way, these rebels are raiding villages now,” Olaf pointed out. It was clear from the excitement in his voice that he was thrilled to have been selected for this mission. “I can’t wait to put the hurt on these guys.”
“We’ll have to find them first,” Syd countered. “And, to Viktor’s point, we have to consider that maybe Magnus isn’t giving us the full story here.”
Abbey glanced back at The Foggy Day. The two stone pillars were back in their original positions on either side of the harbor, but even from this distance Abbey could see the men standing on them were facing toward The Foggy Day, not out to the sea. The guards on the dock were watching the ship too.
She just hoped Magnus would keep his word and leave the ship alone for the next seven days.
In her heart, she wished her father was going with them on this mission. Aside from his fighting skill and magical abilities, he provided a calming presence. Even when the future was uncertain, having him at her side made her feel like everything was going to be all right.
Still, she knew Syd was making the right call. Someone capable needed to oversee Dahlia, and there was no one better suited to the task than Benjamin.
“Could be our ride,” Dustin said, pointing with his staff at an approaching wagon driven by a single man.
The driver had a hard look to him, as if he was accustomed to fighting and hard labor. His face was thin, almost drawn, and a long scar ran up one cheek. Much like the other people they’d seen in Ammaas, he wore a black sash.
“Gideon?” Syd asked as he pulled to a stop alongside them.
“I am,” the man replied. “Though I often wish I wasn’t, this day being no exception.”
Syd introduced herself and her team, then they got in the wagon.
It was a tight fit, with all of them plus seven days’ worth of provisions.
Syd and Dustin rode up front with Gideon, and the rest of them squeezed in the back.
Gideon clicked his tongue and the horses began trotting.
“So, Gideon,” Abbey called up to him. “How’d you get stuck with this assignment?
The thin man chuckled. “Could be because I’ve been searching for these murderous bastards for nearly a year. I chased them out of the south, and they went west. I pursued them there, and they went north. Every time I got close, they moved.”
“Where did they strike last?” Dustin asked.
“Northern outpost. Place is so small it doesn’t have a name.”
“Hey, like Fannar’s dumb little village!” Olaf interjected.
Fannar glared at him.
“It happened just a few days ago. The attack followed the usual pattern. They fired arrows from the hills, ran in, burned everything not made of stone, and got the hell out of there.”
Abbey thought for a moment. “What do they steal?”
“Not much. Some people have reported valuables stolen, but I suspect a good portion of them are just making it up in hopes Magnus will provide them some kind of reimbursement. They are sorely mistaken.”
“If the Tall Grass Raiders aren’t stealing, what’s the point of the raids?” Dustin asked.
Gideon chuckled. “I spent a lot of time thinking about that. Want to know what I came up with? Absolutely nothing. As far as I can tell, they just like causing trouble. And if I ever meet these bastards, I’m going to pay it right back to them.”
He held up his hand palm up, revealing a round stone.
“Hey, mind if I ask you something?” Abbey continued without waiting for an answer. “What’s the deal with those stones? Edvard held his just like you’re doing now. Magnus, too.”
“Wow, you really don’t know much about the Way of the Stone. Allow me to show you.”
He lifted the stone off his palm, revealing a smaller flat stone underneath.
“This is the key principle of Stone Shaping. The uneducated think rocks are unchangeable. In truth, many things can change the shape of a rock. Wind. Water. Even another stone grinding against it. But it all takes time. A Stone Shaper must understand that stone is malleable. If he forgets that for even a moment, he won’t be able to shape. We keep the two stones in our hands at all times. The movement of the rocks against one another reminds us of this simple truth.”
He set the larger stone back in his hand.
“It’s considered inappropriate to display the smaller stone in public,” Gideon said sheepishly. “It’s sort of like leaving your home wearing no clothes.”
“Wait,” Olaf said. “You basically just got naked in front of us?”
“That’s one way of looking at it, I suppose. I won’t do it again.”
“This is one weird-ass place,” Clemens muttered.
If Gideon heard the comment, he gave no indication. “Of course, there is also a more practical application.”
His eyes flashed black, and the round stone in his hand changed, fluidly transforming into a spike that seemed to be growing out of his palm. In an instant, the tip was inches from Clemens’ face.
Syd did not look amused. “Don’t do that again.”
“I won’t, Captain,” Gideon said. “Just thought you should see it. I don’t imagine Magnus put much effort into teaching you about our culture.”
“You don’t have much good to say about Chief Magnus,” Dustin said.
Gideon shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t. Must be a product of working for him for more than a decade, hunting his enemies with insufficient resources while he sits in his maze of a palace. I’ve been putting my life on the line for him a long time.”
Abbey wondered what kind of man they’d been saddled with. His honesty was refreshing, but it was possible he was just a malcontent who’d sink their mission with his attitude.
Gideon chuckled. “It also probably doesn’t help that I shared a room with him for fifteen years. Magnus is my brother.”
****
It took them a day and a half to reach the northern outpost where the Tall Grass Raiders had last attacked.
It was a small collection of maybe three dozen homes, built on either side of the road. A few other buildings, including a storehouse and a small smithy, made up the rest of the village. Hills rose to the east and west.
All the buildings were made of stone.
“What a shithole,” Clemens muttered
as they approached.
Abbey shot him a look. “We’re here to get information, idiot. Insulting their town is probably not the best way to start.”
“She’s not wrong,” Gideon said. “These folks might live simply, but they’re proud of what they have, and they work hard to maintain it.”
They pulled to a stop just outside the village at a small guard station. A guard stood on either side of the road. There was a bell hanging from a post near the guard on the right. Both guards wore a black sash.
The guard nearest the bell stepped into the road, blocking their path.
“Greetings in the name of Chief Magnus,” Gideon called to them.
The guard in front of them spit on the ground. “You can keep your damn greetings. What’s your business here?”
“Chief Magnus sent me,” Gideon answered. He sounded unfazed—and unsurprised—at the guard’s less-than-friendly greeting. “We’re here to investigate the attack. It’s my job to catch those Tall Grass Raider bastards.”
The guard squinted up at him. “Oh, I’ve heard of you. You’re the chief’s brother. The one who’s always poking around after the trouble’s over. After real warriors have fought the rebels off.”
“How long have you been chasing those rebels, anyway?” the other guard interjected.
Gideon ignored the comment and stayed focused on the first guard. “Is that what happened? You fought them off?”
The guard shifted from one foot to the other. “Yes. Pretty much.”
“Hmm. Normally, that’s not how it goes down. The rebels attack, fire some arrows for cover, and light fires for distraction. Sometimes they steal, and sometimes the destruction is enough. Then they run away. It’s over in minutes.”
The guard raised his hand, palm up, showing his stone in the gesture Abbey had come to understand was meant to be aggressive.
“Easy, friend,” Abbey said. “We’re here to help. My team and I would like to speak with some of the people in the village. Will you allow us to pass?”
The guards exchanged a glance, then the first one nodded. “Be quick about it. And be aware most in our village don’t hold our chief in the same high regard you and I do. Personally I’d like to see your asses headed down the road, but if some in the village want to speak to you, I won’t stop them.”
“Did he just say he’d like to see our asses?” Olaf asked quietly.
Abbey elbowed him.
“Many thanks,” Gideon told the guard. “Pleasant day to you.”
The guard spit on the ground again, but then he stepped aside and let them pass.
As the wagon rolled away from the guards, Dustin asked, “Does it usually go that poorly?”
“Pretty much,” Gideon replied. “And the guards are the friendly ones. Everyone else resents Magnus, and I can’t much blame them. They have to pay tribute, and they get far less protection than the bigger towns.”
“You’ve spent the last year traveling to places where the people hate you?” Abbey asked.
“They don’t like me much in Ammaas, either. I’m a bit too opinionated for their tastes, my brother included. Most of the people out here haven’t seen a representative from Chief Magnus in years, other than the Stone Shaper guards. It’s only natural they’d take out their frustrations on me.”
They spent the next three hours talking to some of the villagers about their experience during the raid. Working in pairs, they went from house to house, asking questions and listening to stories. If the residents had any inkling that most of the people asking questions were foreigners, they gave no indication. They seemed just as hostile to Gideon as they did to the rest of them.
Most were reluctant to talk at first, but the majority opened up after a few questions. Abbey began to get a clear picture of what had happened the morning of the raid.
The only thing none of them would talk about was the specifics of what had been taken by the raiders. A few made vague statements about valuables from the storehouse, but they all claimed not to know what the valuables were.
Abbey was partnered with Dustin, and he turned out to be much better than Abbey at bringing the people out of their shells. He mixed flattery with genuine curiosity in a very effective manner. Abbey was impressed.
It was almost dusk when they regrouped and compared stories with the rest of their crew. The tales were remarkably consistent, but the others hadn’t had any luck getting the details on what had been stolen, either.
“That isn’t uncommon,” Gideon told them. “They think allowing their valuables to be stolen shows weakness. They’re ashamed.”
Abbey wasn’t so sure about that. She’d sensed something else in the villagers. Suspicion.
“Could it be they just don’t trust us yet?” Abbey asked. “Maybe if we spent more time with them…”
“We only have seven days,” Syd reminded her. “We’re not spending it all here. There has to be something else. Something we missed.”
“There is one other thing,” Dustin said. “It doesn’t seem important, but—”
“Say it,” Syd prompted.
“One man we spoke to lives at the bottom of the hill where the archers hid. He claims to have heard them yell something as they left. ‘Tubor ginger.’” He looked at Abbey for confirmation.
“Yes, that’s how he said it,” Abbey said. “’Tubor ginger.’ Or ‘to bare ginger,’ maybe?”
Fannar looked up suddenly, his eyes filled with light. “To Baer Gigur?”
Dustin shrugged. “Maybe.”
“I’ve heard this kind of thing before,” Gideon said. “The rebels seemed to have developed code words. Indecipherable nonsense.”
“It’s not nonsense, you idiot,” Fannar growled. “It’s ancient Barskall.”
Gideon’s eyes widened. “You speak it?”
Fannar paused. “Not really. I don’t think anyone does. The common tongue came to Barskall many generations ago, same as the Kaldfell Peninsula.”
Olaf rolled his eyes. “Great, thanks for bringing it up then.”
Fannar ignored him. “A few words survived.”
“Including Baer Gigur?” Abbey asked hopefully.
Fannar nodded. “I’ve never heard the two words spoken together, but I know their meaning. Baer is a farm usually, but it could be a very small village. A collection of homes, perhaps.”
Gideon squinted at Fannar. “And Gigur?”
“Gigur means crater. Or valley. Any low place.”
Dustin scratched his beard. “So Baer Gigur means crater town?”
“Yes. Basically,” Fannar confirmed, “he was saying ‘to crater town.’”
“Their next target, perhaps?” Gideon wondered.
“No,” Abbey said. “He wouldn’t be talking about their next target in the middle of the fight. Baer Gigur is their home. He was telling them to go back home.”
A slow smile spread across Gideon’s face. “I have an idea where we can start looking.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Think they’ll ever get tired of staring down at us?” Melwin asked.
Benjamin gazed at the pillars of stone and the guards standing on top of them. They never seemed to take their eyes off The Foggy Day. “It appears they will not.”
It had been three days since Abbey, Syd, and their team left with the Stone Shaper Gideon. The crew aboard The Foggy Day was getting restless as they waited to learn their fate. In four days either Syd, Abbey, and Dustin would return triumphant or the Stone Shapers would kill them.
And that was assuming the Stone Shapers kept their word and waited.
Even if Syd and the crew succeeded in stopping the rebels, what then? Would Chief Magnus really allow them to leave with their Queen of Storms?
Seemed unlikely, yet that was the hand they had been dealt. They had to play it out.
He took one last look at the pillars of stone, the constant reminder of the power of their captors, then turned away from the water.
“I’m going to go check on her,�
�� he told Melwin. There was no need to clarify who “her” meant. Benjamin had been compulsively checking on Dahlia ever since Syd and the team had left. She may have been constantly sedated, but Benjamin wasn’t taking anything for granted. There was no way Dahlia was going to escape on his watch.
“Benjamin, some of the crew and I have been talking,” Melwin said.
The blacksmith stopped. He couldn’t imagine anything good was going to come after that statement. “That so? What have you been talking about?”
“They think—well, we think, really—that maybe keeping Dahlia sedated belowdecks is just delaying the inevitable. We’re going to kill her eventually. Captain Syd promised as much. Why wait?”
Benjamin tilted his head. “Like you don’t know?”
The Stone Shapers had sent Edvard every day to check that Dahlia was still alive, and they’d been absolutely clear about what would happen if she was not.
The seven-day reprieve would be in effect only as long as the Queen of Storms was breathing.
Melwin took a step closer and spoke softly. “You have to admit we have a point. This Chief Magnus has sent our best people to some far-flung part of Gren on a hopeless mission. Even if they do make it back here, there’s no way they can find and capture a rebel force in that short of a time period.”
Benjamin’s words came out as a growl when he spoke again. “These are the people who stopped Thunderclap. Who killed Tor. Who defeated the Barskall fleet. Tell me again what they can’t do?”
Melwin sighed. “We have to be realistic. If we wait until the seven-day deadline, it’s going to come down to a fight. I can’t see any way we’re winning in that scenario. But if we quietly prepare the ship and wait until the winds are right, I’ll bet we could slip out of this harbor at night. We can catch the men on the pillars off-guard if we’re fast. And we can travel without a Storm Caller if we—”
Benjamin grabbed the man’s arm, cutting him off. “Are you suggesting we leave our captain, our Storm Caller, and my daughter behind in Gren?”
