Elrin took a step back; he didn’t want to get caught by a swinging blade. None of Pelegrin’s men noticed the unfolding conflict and the pier was empty save the barrels of black powder nearby and some noisy gulls. Pelegrin had no support, but was unwilling to show any weakness and call for assistance.
“I am a Commodore, you filthy grub. You’d best remember that. I command this frigate and the four galleons birthed in the cove. If a runt like you is running these docks then I’ve good reason to suspect you had something to do with this fire.” Pelegrin’s frustration disappeared as something dawned on him and a cruel grin creased his precise features. “Oh, I see ... This is another pathetic rebellion attack isn't it? Are you sure you want to test me? Didn’t work out so well for Tillydale. Come to think of it, Pumpkinvale and Crooked Creek won’t be giving us any trouble now either. All you shankakin whelps should be back in chains. If you ask me, the Council should never have let your lot out.”
Delik seethed, his face red and trembling, lips curled in bit-back fury. Elrin took another step back. The ogre appeared again on the main deck, making his way back to load more of the black powder barrels.
“Give the grubs a stitch and they’ll ruin the seam,” Pelegrin sneered. “My father had it right. Let a few out of chains and off they run to scheme against their betters. That’s how your lot reward kindness. Thought you could win against the Lord’s chosen, but you’re pathetic backwards insects, all of you.”
“Speaking of fathers,” said Delik, hatred sparking off each word. “You’re going to help me find mine.”
Pelegrin laughed “Of course! I’ll be sure to take you straight to the prison. What is daddy’s name? The gaoler has such a long list.”
“Jaspa Scrambletoe.”
Pelegrin lost his smirk. His eyes flicked to the side, searching for aid. He pulled at his sabre and yelled. “Seize the—”
Delik lanced forward, grabbing Pelegrin’s sword arm at the wrist before his blade could escape. The shankakin’s hand was a blur, striking at Pelegrin’s elbow with furious precision. Crunching bones paired with a strangled yelp as Delik twisted the crippled arm downwards and kicked his foot high into Pelegrin’s groin. Pelegrin doubled over, allowing Delik to smash his fist square into the Jandan’s handsome face. Pelegrin reeled backwards in a stumbling retreat.
Elrin was astonished at the speed and strength of the shankakin. Pelegrin groaned, half hunched over, not sure whether to hold his groin or his maimed sword arm.
A shout went up on the frigate and a whistle blew, summoning a blur of blue uniforms to action. Marines lined the gunwale, training their crossbows at Elrin and Delik. A unit charged down the gangplank to the pier, swords drawn. Delik held his hands high, turning his back to the rush of sabres.
“Put your clappers up, lad. Don’t try and run.”
Elrin did as Delik said, there was no other option; they were surrounded.
“Don’t kill them! These two will have our special treatment. I want them myself. Throw them in the cells.” Pelegrin’s voice shook with anger and obvious pain, blood fell from his broken nose. “Make them ... comfortable.”
Elrin and Delik were escorted up the gangplank onto the war ship, swords at their backs. Joyless crewmen worked Juniper’s pristine decks; whether indentured or enslaved, they were in need of a decent meal. Given the marines guarding them, some must have traded the slow rot of a prison sentence for trial by sea. Or, perhaps, they were captured from pirate attacks and given a choice; serve or die.
The crew kept their heads down and out of trouble, wary of the blue uniforms on patrol. Elrin hoped he would have the same option. He needed a convincing story or the dead letter would have him put in a box to Calimska.
Just before the marines escorted them down the hatch into the bowels of the frigate a scrawny bronze boy swabbing the deck tripped over his bucket and knocked into Delik. They went down in a heap.
Delik tried to wriggle out of the boy’s tangle of arms and legs. “Get him off me!”
The marines tossed the boy to the side and hauled Delik to his feet, forcing him through the hatch. They were in no mind to delay, though one had enough time to swing a brutal kick at the boy, knocking him in the teeth before heading below. The boy got to his knees, flashing a wink and a ragged smile.
Elrin stepped down through the hatch, rethinking trial by sea as a preferred option.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Below Deck
It took a moment for Elrin’s eyes to adjust to the sea of activity inside the ship. Officers shouted orders to uniformed sailors and they, in turn, barked at the crew. The crew rushed about accomplishing their jobs as fast as possible. Those who disappointed the overseers were struck with a thick knotted rope then shoved back to task.
Their escort handed Delik and Elrin over to a junior officer who had his men bind their hands behind their backs. The rope was coarse and chafed Elrin’s wrists. Comfort was a subjective experience and he was in no mind to complain, lest they clamp him in irons as an alternative. They were taken below another deck and past rows of barrels, many marked with the same seal as those that nearly exploded on the docks.
Elrin was the reason the ship was still afloat, he was the hero not the criminal. Being an adventurer was a tricky business, the pitfalls of doing good deeds were not apparent in the tales of his father’s exploits. The bardic interpretation of adventure had glossed over the injustice of punishment by association.
It was all just a simple misunderstanding. Surely if he explained his story to Commodore Pelegrin, he would be let off. After all, Elrin hadn’t attacked any Jandans, let alone their commanding officer and he had nothing to do with Delik or this rebellion business. There would be one chance to show his innocence when the Commodore came to interrogate them, Elrin just hoped he didn’t ask too many questions about why he wasn’t back in Calimska.
Elrin and Delik were prodded further down into Juniper’s dark interior. When they arrived in the ship’s prison hold, Elrin was surprised at how large it was. He thought it would be a small temporary cell for a few prisoners.
“Big enough for a small village isn’t it,” said Delik.
“Shut it grub!” The junior officer smacked Delik on the back of the head with the flat of his blade, knocking the shankakin to his knees.
Delik staggered to his feet. “Why don’t you untie me and give it another try?”
The officer ignored the remark. “Throw ‘em in this one,” he said, pointing to the first empty cell. “They’ll have some company soon.”
Delik and Elrin were shoved in, stumbling onto the filthy sand covered deck. The thin layer of sand may have been fresh and white once, but now it told of grim journeys, patches were stained brown from blood and worse—the lone bucket in the corner of the cell reeked. The marines locked the cage door and left, leaving them to relax alone in the disgusting prison.
Delik found himself a relatively clean spot and sat down, leaning against the iron bars that carved up the hold. “You’ve been mighty quiet for someone who’s just got locked up for doing nothing.”
“I haven’t had the best of luck these past few days. I guess I’m all out of protest.” Elrin attempted to sit up without rolling in a patch of dried excrement; bile rose in his throat.
“Nasty in here isn’t it?”
“Have you been in here before?”
“Not this ship, but one just like it. That one was packed to the gills. Believe me, an empty prison hold is a real treat.”
Elrin was growing tired of these little mysteries. “A decent answer would be a real treat. Why did you provoke him like that? Look where it got us!”
“That’s fair I suppose. You heard of Tillydale?”
“No. Where is that?” Elrin found a somewhat comfortable position away from the worst of the smell. “Is that where you’re from?”
“Where was that? That’s what you should be asking. You’re not from the coast are you?”
“Is it that obvious?”
Delik’s interest was disconcerting and Elrin still had no lie ready to tell. The truth came too quick to his lips. “I’m from Calimska.”
“Hells, why’d you leave? I’d love to go to the City of Gold, but I’ve never had the shine to pay the toll.”
“I’m an adventurer. I left home a month ago seeking my fortune. One day I hope to be famous like the great hero of the coast, Arbajkha.” Elrin decided fitting the lies amongst the truth would be more believable.
“Hero? When was this?” Delik chuckled. “It’s a long time since I’ve heard of heroes gracing the coast. Plenty of bounty hunters though, plenty of thieves and thugs too.”
“Surely you know him. He once battled a great wyrm to save a small village from certain destruction.” Elrin’s eyes brightened.
“Really, a wyrm eh?” Delik shook his head. “Him and the hells’ five armies maybe. Where is he now? We need a few like that on our side.”
“Mother says he’s dead, but I don’t believe it.”
“Why not trust your own mother?”
“A dragon came to her in a dream and said he wouldn’t return again.”
“I see,” said Delik, trying to be delicate. “Is she, um, addled?”
“Of course not! She knows all the sagas off by heart and can play any song on any instrument. She used to be head of the Bard’s Guild.”
“Why not now?”
Elrin hung his head. “Father just up and disappeared on us. Everything went to dust. They say she went mad, but she just gets a touch confused sometimes. She just misses him.”
“Are you saying that this Arbajkha fella is your father?”
“I was hoping not to say that, actually. Not the best liar, am I?”
“Might it be, he came from somewhere else? The West Coast? Tashiska?”
“No. He was a great hero. He protected the coast. This coast. He even went to the Hoard Islands and took back stolen treasures hoarded by the dragons. He helped the villagers.”
“You sure?”
“Yes!” Why didn’t they know about his father on the coast? “Even in Calimska they’ve heard of his adventures. Mother sang his song all the time.”
“Your mother, eh?” Delik rubbed the stubble on his chin. “What if she wa–“
“Look, I should be the one asking the questions.” Elrin’s face flushed. “What’s the story with you and the Captain?”
“I’m sure he’d prefer you call him Commodore.” Delik gave a bitter grin. “He attacked my homeland. He led the attacks on Tillydale, killed most of us and enslaved the rest.”
“Why?”
“That’s a long bloody story.” Delik thought for a moment. “Jandans believe everything belongs to their god; the living, the dead, the soil, the sea. They come across the ocean spilling tales of their almighty Lord. They tell us they are the Lord’s chosen and that they are the keepers of his dominion. So they lay claim to everything.”
“Even the dead?”
“O’course the dead! Has all that shine blinded you lot? Or is the air to thin up there in your golden nest? Never mind the dead, they’re bound to find their way to the dirt; Ona takes all back to her bosom in time. It’s the living that feel the injustice.”
“Are you talking about their poaching priests? What they do is vile.”
“That’s just part of it. It’s the whole way they think that’s backwards. They claim my people are the property of the Council of Jando because we occupy the Lord’s sacred territory; which as far as I can tell is any spot on Oranica the Council takes a fancy too. They seized our towns and placed them under Jandan administration. Our lands were taken, but we were forced to keep working them. Our produce was sent to Jando and we had to buy our food back at higher prices. We were given protection in exchange for a tithe; our children.”
“How could you do that? Give away your own children?”
“What? Don’t be daft! It’s not so simple as that. First off, they stole them. Then they took control of our villages and under the sword of the administrators we were starving and desperate. They harvested us as we did our orchards. Our elders were bribed, tortured or replaced until they signed our lives away. They took the strong or the troublesome so we would never rebel and if one family hid their child another family would report them so their own might have a better chance. You couldn’t trust anyone. Some even stole children from neighbouring villages to pass off as their own for tithe. It was a terrible time.”
Elrin was struck by the pain Jando had caused. “I knew Jandans owned slaves, but I never really understood what went on down there. Why did they attack Tillydale and your other towns if they were already under Jandan control?”
“Patience lad; you’ve got to know the roots of the story before you’ll understand why the crops got the rot. Over time some of our people, who were slaves to high serving councillors and the rich and influential in Jando, persuaded the Council to allow us more rights. See, first they had us as equal to wild game on the Jandan estates. Shankakin were no more to them than produce for trade; we had less rights than any slaves. Once the laws changed we could own property and have a decent standard of living. We were not to be shackled or caged unless proven of crimes or misconduct through the courts. Owners breaching this would face fines. We also had the right to win our freedom through pardon or purchase.”
Elrin was fascinated. Kleith had done his best to teach him, but there was so much history that he didn’t know, particularly the history of the Coast. “Then what about tithing your children and the Jandan administrators?”
“Our children were still the property of Jando, but the military was stood down. We had shankakin overmen installed to govern each village. They were Jandan stooges, but conditions relaxed and our crop yields increased, so the Jandans were happy. They still had their slaves and were getting a bigger profit from them.”
“How is that any better?” Elrin was shocked that their kin enforced the slavery. It was outlawed in Calimska, though anti-guilders said apprentices were no different to slaves for the guilds. At least an apprentice had a wage and lodgings. This was too awful to understand. “Surely, you couldn’t have gone on like that.”
“We had no other choice, until my father formed an underground movement to end the Jandan hold on our lands. Many years past before the rebellion was ready to seize our towns back. Shankakin are little people, but we have a lot of patience. We succeeded; the shankakin outside of Jando were free and not a drop of our blood was spilt.”
Elrin could never have been so patient, endured those conditions under the corrupted overmen. He nodded for Delik to continue.
“We knew it wouldn’t be long before they would send the military to take the towns back by force. My father led the defence of Tillydale. I fought there as well. Each town repelled the forces sent against it. Jando didn’t think it would take much. They calculated that we would be under resourced, but we had been stockpiling food and weapons for years. We harried the troops as they moved towards the towns and cut off their supply lines. Without our villagers supplying food to Jando, their city and their soldiers starved.
“That’s when Jando proposed a truce. We negotiated territorial borders and trade with Jando. Our children were ours again.”
“So you did it, you won your freedom,” said Elrin, his eyes bright.
“Not quite; the slaves in Jando were still not free. A splinter group of rebels wouldn’t be satisfied until every single soul had their liberation. They would steal slaves from Jando and release them.
“Many joined that group, led by my father. I disagreed with him. I thought it would provoke Jando, and it did. They attacked without warning; waves of soldiers and redeemers claimed us. Our towns were levelled; soil and soul defiled. Pelegrin was in charge of deporting our survivors by ship to Jando for slavery, but that bastard couldn
’t help himself. He wanted blood and sailed his ship up river following the marching army, blasting shot into any who fled to the water’s edge. First Tillydale, then Crooked Creek, all the way up to Pumpkinvale. It was a massacre.
“Rewarded for his bravery too, can you believe it? He was sinking unarmed boats laden with women and children. He’s a commodore now, for that. I remembered him when he took me, swore I’d kill him if I ever saw him again. In Jando, I was worse than a slave. My people blamed me for it all.”
“But, wasn’t it your father’s fault?”
“Of course they blamed him, but he was out in the wilds on the run. I was a reminder of their crushed hope. Eventually the old man’s rebels sprung me from my chains. I went into hiding for a while then got this job in Rum Hill. Far enough from the City of Bones and close enough to keep tabs on Jandan naval movements.”
“Why are you interested in the navy? Why not take your fight to the Jandan leaders, aren’t they the problem?”
“Black powder is Jando’s strength, not their leaders. If we crippled their navy, they’d be impotent in the border towns. They’d have less reach to hinder the rebellion.”
“If you say so.”
“I do indeed say so.”
“You think black powder is more powerful than magic? Redeemers might just be poachers, but they—”
“I never said that! I’ve been at these dogs for longer than you’ve been off the teat. Don’t you imagine I’d have given all the angles a measure of thought?”
“Fine.” Elrin was not convinced. Delik might be certain, but that didn’t make him right.
From the far corner of the prison deck, a shadow moved.
Elrin tapped Delik on the shoulder and pointed. “Did you see that? Something’s in that cell over there.”
Shadows clung to a mysterious figure, masking their features as they emerged from a recess.
“I guess they have another prisoner on board,” said Delik, unsurprised.
“Such a touching story.” The shadow’s voice, feminine and familiar, was slick with sarcasm. “There really should be a nice fire pit down here. It might help the inmates open up a little. Prisons are so cathartic, don’t you think? Perhaps this one was a little too cathartic for some, considering the smell.”
Dragon Choir Page 7
