Journey into the Void

by Margaret Weis

  Orken vessels were generally to be found in this part of the world, so near their homeland, and so it was no surprise when the shout of “sail, ho” came from the lookouts.

  An orken ship appeared on the northern horizon. The ship did not run down to meet them, but hove to and waited for them to come up to her. Once within hailing distance, the orks bellowed across the waves at one another. After some moments of this, Captain Kal-Gah, his expression grim, ordered a boat to be lowered to carry him across to the other ship.

  “I don’t like this,” said Shadamehr, looking grave. “Something’s wrong.”

  “I hope whatever it is doesn’t prevent us from going to Krammes,” Damra said. “I cannot eat another dried fig. They’re starting to stick in my throat.”

  The four of them hung over the rail, watching the other ship and waiting anxiously for the captain’s boat to return. Griffith questioned Quai-ghai, but she knew no more than they did. The omens, she said, had been particularly good that morning. Griffith took that as a hopeful sign, until Shadamehr pointed out that good omens for orks didn’t necessarily mean good omens for humans and elves.

  Captain Kal-Gah returned to his vessel, coming aboard to the blast of a conch shell. He barked sharp orders that sent the crew racing to their duties, then summoned his passengers to his cabin.

  “We are not going to sail into Krammes,” he announced.

  “Why not?” Shadamehr asked, as the others stared bleakly at the captain. “What’s wrong?”

  “The city is under attack,” the captain replied.

  Alise gasped. “Dagnarus! I knew it!”

  “No,” said the captain, and his face split into a grin. He slapped himself on the chest. “Orks!”

  “Orks are attacking Krammes?” Shadamehr repeated in dazed tones.

  “The Captain of Captains is here,” said Captain Kal-Gah proudly. “And her entire fleet. They are laying siege to the city now.”

  “But…why?” Alise asked, bewildered. “The orks and the Vinnengaeleans aren’t at war. Are we?”

  “We are now,” said Captain Kal-Gah fiercely. “The Captain has long been angry at the Vinnengaeleans for helping the Karnuans seize our mountain. The Captain summoned the fleet, and now they are laying siege to Krammes.”

  “The Vinnengaeleans didn’t help the Karnuans,” Alise protested indignantly. “Not willingly. Our fleet was tricked.”

  “So you claim,” said Captain Kal-Gah, with a wink.

  “But it’s true—” Alise began.

  Shadamehr seized her hand, squeezed it.

  “Can you take us closer?” he asked. “So we could see the battle.”

  “Yes, I can do that,” stated Kal-Gah. He brightened up. “It should be a wondrous sight. I expect that half the city is ablaze by now.”

  He went back to the deck to shout orders. The four friends returned to their quarters, where they stared at each in blank dismay.

  “This doesn’t make any sense,” said Shadamehr thoughtfully.

  “They’re orks,” stated Damra, as if that explained everything. “They probably read it in this morning’s fish entrails.”

  “Orks may be superstitious, but they’re not stupid,” said Shadamehr. “They have a reason for everything they do and, I repeat, this doesn’t make sense. True, the orks are angry with the Vinnengaeleans, and they had reason to be. We were fools to let the Karnuans trick us and steal our ship. But that happened long ago. Why didn’t the orks attack then? Why suddenly decide to attack Krammes now? Unless…”

  He paused, then said quietly, “Maybe they do have a reason.”

  “Dagnarus,” Alise said.

  “Our new king,” Shadamehr agreed. “He’s allied himself with the orks. Makes perfect sense, of course. He seizes control of eastern Vinnengael and the orks conquer western Vinnengael for him. They attack Krammes by sea. He has taan forces ready to move in by land.”

  “I see one problem with that,” Griffith protested. “The orks have no love for Void magic.”

  “They probably have no idea Dagnarus has anything to do with Void magic,” Alise pointed out. “The Vrykyl was able to fool all of you into thinking he was a human child. As Lord of the Void, Dagnarus would find it much easier to hide his alliance with the Void.”

  “Alise is right,” said Shadamehr. “All Dagnarus would have to do is promise the Captain of Captains he would help her gain her sacred mountain back, and the orks would be only too happy to comply. Especially if it meant they had a chance to avenge themselves on Vinnengaeleans in the process.”

  “Promises he has no intention of keeping,” said Damra.

  “He might,” said Shadamehr speculatively. “Dagnarus might well be interested in taking the sacred mountain from the Karnuans. Not that he’ll give it to the orks.”

  “Why would he want it?” asked Alise. “The island has some strategic value, I suppose, but—”

  “I know why. Because the orken portion of the Sovereign Stone is rumored to be hidden there,” said Griffith.

  “Precisely,” Shadamehr replied.

  “The orks would die before they told him where to find it,” said Damra.

  “He’s Lord of the Void,” said Griffith grimly. “He wouldn’t find death much of an obstacle. He can drag the truth from their corpses.”

  The four regarded each other in dismay.

  “Very well. Now that we have this all figured out, what do we do to stop him?” Damra asked. “I suppose we could try to talk to this Captain of Captains, but why would she believe us?”

  “Because of my honest face and stunning good looks?” said Shadamehr.

  Alise snorted in derision. “What would be really helpful is a bad omen. Something that would frighten the orks into fleeing Krammes.” She cast Shadamehr a withering glance. “There, you might be useful.”

  “A bad omen,” Shadamehr repeated. He looked speculatively at Griffith. “It would have to be something more spectacular than fish entrails.”

  “I think that could be arranged,” said Griffith, smiling back.

  “I don’t like this,” said Damra frowning. “It’s tampering with the works of the gods.”

  “Have another fig,” said Shadamehr, holding out a basket of dried fruit.

  Captain Kal-Gah’s ship joined the orken fleet, whose ships were taking turns lobbing flaming jelly at the city of Krammes. Captain Kal-Gah had exaggerated when he said the city would be ablaze. The orks had barely begun their bombardment. The city was not yet in flames, although smoke could be seen rising from some buildings along the wharf.

  The history of Krammes proved the old adage that it is an ill wind that blows nobody good. Two hundred years earlier, Krammes had been the orphan child begging for crumbs at the table of the wealthy city now known as Old Vinnengael. Krammes was located south of Vinnengael, at the mouth of the estuary that led to Lake Ildurel and the city itself. The Vinnengaeleans had built a fortress at Krammes, intended to guard that estuary. A trading post had grown up around the fortress, but it struggled to survive. Few ships bound for the lucrative markets of Old Vinnengael cared to stop at the smaller, poorer markets of Krammes.

  With the fall of Old Vinnengael, the fortunes of Krammes changed almost overnight. Survivors of the disaster fled downriver to Krammes, swelling the population and bringing in what wealth they had managed to salvage. Krammes continued to grow and now, two hundred years later, it was a thriving city, second only to New Vinnengael in size and importance. Markets teemed with customers. The city was home to foreign traders. Black-skinned Nimrans could be seen rubbing shoulders with olive-skinned Dunkargans and pale-skinned Vinnengaeleans. Elven merchants traveled to Krammes via the trade route that ran south from Dainmorae. Weapons of dwarven make could often be found in the markets, brought by the orks from the dwarven lands to the east, or sometimes by dwarven traders.

  The fortress that guarded the entrance to the estuary stood on a promontory overlooking the Blessed Straits. The fortress had been strengthened down through
the years, for Krammes was always wary of her Karnuan neighbors, one reason for the founding of the Imperial Cavalry School. The fortress was equipped with the most recent developments in weapons technology, and the orks were angered to discover that this included the orken specialty—flaming jelly. The fortress could heave enormous boulders that would tear through sails, smash holes in the bulkheads, or fling red-hot metal that would set fire to a ship’s decks and the rigging.

  Fearful of the fortress’s weapons, the ork ships could not sail as close to Krammes as they would have liked. Thus the orks were doing little damage to the city itself, although the siege was bound to have a devastating effect on the city’s economy. So long as ork ships blockaded the harbor, no other ship dared enter.

  At least, that was Captain Kal-Gah’s thinking, explained to Shadamehr, as they sailed toward the battle. Shadamehr agreed with the assessment. He did not mention his suspicions that taan forces might well be on their way from the east.

  “If the orks can be persuaded to retreat,” Shadamehr told his companions, “I can enter the city, reach the prince, and alert him to this danger. That’s where your bad omen comes in. We have to cause the orks to retreat.”

  “You’ll have to make certain that Quai-ghai doesn’t see me,” Griffith warned. “She would know immediately I was casting a spell, and that would prove disastrous. Captain Kal-Gah may be your friend, Baron, but orks take their omens very seriously and if they were to discover that we were cooking one up, they would kill us.”

  “You could do the spell in the cabin,” Shadamehr suggested. “Or do you have to be on deck?”

  “For the spell I have in mind, so long as I have line of sight, I can cast the spell from the cabin.”

  “Fortunately, the battle should keep everyone distracted,” said Shadamehr. “We’ll make sure they stay that way. If anyone asks, Griffith, we’ll say that you are indisposed.”

  “And that I have my own cures,” Griffith emphasized hastily. “I don’t want Quai-ghai down here lathering me with fish oil and banging drums.”

  “Agreed. Especially about the fish oil. When do you—”

  An orken cabin boy banged on the door and opened it simultaneously, causing all of them to start guiltily. Fortunately, the youngster was too excited to notice. “Captain says the battle is in sight, Baron.” The youngster grinned, hopping with excitement. “You can see flames and smoke and everything.”

  “Glorious!” said Shadamehr heartily. “We’ll be straight up.”

  He and Alise ascended to the deck, leaving Damra and Griffith below. Damra kept watch at the door. Griffith groaned pathetically in his bed.

  Shadamehr headed off Quai-ghai’s offers of leeches and stewed fish heads. Fortunately, Quai-ghai was interested in watching the battle, and so she did not press her attentions on the sick elf. Shadamehr and Alise took up positions where they could see the proceedings and keep an eye on the ladder leading to their quarters.

  According to Kal-Gah, the battle had reached a stalemate, with neither side able to gain the advantage over the other. One orken ship was aflame. Her crew worked frantically to douse the fire and had not yet been forced to abandon ship. Smoke rose from the dockyards of Krammes, but only a few thin trails. The orks could not sail closer to attack the city proper. The Krammerians could not sail out to drive away the orks. So they blazed away at one another, flinging great globules of flaming jelly through the air, along with anything else that seemed likely to do harm.

  All the while, Shadamehr speculated, Dagnarus’s forces might be drawing closer.

  “Stop fidgeting!” Alise ordered him. “And quit peering down the ladder. Someone’s bound to notice.”

  “What’s taking him so long?” Shadamehr demanded impatiently. “I—”

  “Look!” Alise whispered in excitement, tugging on his sleeve.

  The orken sailors posted up among the rigging “hallooed” out for the deck, several of them pointing. All eyes turned that way, diverting their attention from the battle.

  The ocean this day was relatively calm, with only a light breeze that barely ruffled the flag. That made the sight they witnessed all the more strange. It seemed to Shadamehr’s startled gaze as if the seawater in one small part of the ocean suddenly lifted, not in a wave, but a vast circle that had a smoky gray hue. A long, sinuous tendril of gray snaked out of the darkening heavens, twisting with deadly grace as it slid over the surface of the foaming water.

  “A waterspout!” breathed Alise.

  “By the gods!” said Shadamehr softly. “I’ve never seen one.”

  To judge by their clamor, the orks had seen waterspouts before and knew them to be erratic and sometimes lethal, if they caught a ship in their spinning turbulence. A worse omen could not be imagined. Quai-ghai shouted at the top of her lungs; her bellows coinciding with the captain’s orders to up anchor and set sail. His commands and the shaman’s cries echoed from every orken ship in the fleet.

  The waterspout slid over the ocean waves, churning up water in its path, kicking up the clouds of sea foam and spray. The spout moved slowly toward the fleet’s position, too distant to threaten any ship, but clearly visible to all.

  Shamans aboard the ship of the Captain of Captains used their magical skills to shout orders that carried over the water to all ships of the line.

  “They’re being ordered to break off the attack,” said Shadamehr with satisfaction.

  The waterspout continued to snake over the ocean. Several ships were already sailing away.

  “You realize,” said Alise suddenly, “that our ship is going to go haring off along with all the rest. How do you plan to enter Krammes when we’re five hundred miles away?”

  “Damn!” Shadamehr swore. “I never thought of that. And my plan was so exceedingly brilliant! Strange I never noticed this minor flaw. Captain? Where’s the bloody captain?”

  Shadamehr went bounding across the deck, bumping into the rushing sailors, who muttered apologies and shoved him out of the way. Alise shook her head and smiled and sighed simultaneously.

  A thundering shout came rolling across the water and slammed up against the ship. The mate responsible for communicating ship to ship answered with his own magically enhanced “halloo” and turned to report to Kal-Gah, just as Shadamehr came running up on the other side.

  “Captain!” the mate said, with a salute. “We have orders to heave to. The Captain wants to speak to us.”

  (The word “Captain” is the same for the captain of the ship and the great Captain of Captains, the leader of the orken nation. The manner in which the title is inflected indicates the difference.) Captain Kal-Gah shot a glance at Shadamehr.

  “That is a very great honor,” Shadamehr said, relieved. They would not be leaving Krammes yet, apparently. “Or is it?” he asked, noting that the captain did not appear to be wildly enthusiastic.

  Kal-Gah grunted. “Take your friends and get below. Keep out of sight.”

  He began to shout orders so fast that his words clotted on his tongue.

  “Seems a sound idea,” said Shadamehr.

  Collecting Alise, he hastened back to their quarters, where he found Griffith in bed. He was not shamming now. He was exhausted after his spell-casting.

  “Remarkable, Griffith!” said Shadamehr, going to shake hands. “Scared the bejeebers out of everyone, myself included. The orken fleet is fleeing hither and yon.”

  “With one exception,” said Alise in ominous tones.

  The elf lifted himself up on one elbow. “What’s wrong? Did somebody suspect something?”

  “Not that I could tell,” said Shadamehr.

  Alise rolled her eyes.

  “Then what’s happening?” Damra demanded. “What’s all the commotion.”

  “We’re heaving to. The Captain of Captains wants to have a word with our captain,” said Shadamehr.

  “What does that mean?”

  “I’m not sure. Kal-Gah thought it best if we removed ourselves from the premises.”


  “Maybe she suspects our omen was a hoax,” Griffith said grimly.

  “If that was the case, she wouldn’t have let the other ships of the fleet leave,” Alise pointed out.

  “Does she even know that humans and elves are on board?” Damra asked.

  “Kal-Gah had a little chat with his fellow captain aboard that other ship when we first arrived,” said Shadamehr. “He might have kept the fact that he carried passengers secret—”

  A knock sounded on their door.

  “Captain’s respects, and you’re wanted up top,” said the cabin boy.

  “Or he might not,” Shadamehr conceded.

  “I have spoken to the Captain of Captains. She wants to meet you,” said Kal-Gah. “She is sending a boat to take you over to her ship.”

  “You told her about us?” asked Damra.

  “Of course,” said Kal-Gah, shrugging. “She is the Captain.”

  The four looked at each other.

  “I don’t like this,” said Alise. “What if she is in league with Dagnarus? She might know all about us and what we carry!”

  “I don’t see that we have much choice,” Shadamehr said quietly.

  As if to make his point, the orks on board the Captain’s ship could be seen lowering a boat into the water.

  “We could refuse to go,” Griffith suggested. “Kal-Gah likes us.”

  “Kal-Gah could love me like a brother, but if the Captain told him to slit my throat, he’d be sharpening his knife.”

  “An all-too-apt analogy,” said Alise.

  “Sorry, but it’s the best I could do on short notice. No ork would dare disobey the Captain of Captains,” said Shadamehr with finality. “I think we have two choices: We either climb into that boat or we try to swim to Krammes.”