Under Fallen Stars

by Mel Odom

  “Why did you stay behind?” Quick-witted and gregarious by nature, Sabyna never seemed to lack the ability to speak her mind.

  However, that ability was now creating problems. When he’d first met her aboard Breezerunner he’d given her his name as Malorrie. It had been only the first lie. He’d lied about staying behind at Athkatla, and things seemed to get more convoluted the longer he knew her.

  “I ran into a cousin,” he answered.

  “And you decided to stay and talk to him instead of voyaging on to Baldur’s Gate with us?” Sabyna cut around a wagonload of burned planks, walking faster than the tired team could pull.

  Jherek stepped up his pace to follow her. “He needed help. My help.” He tried not to notice how tightly her blue breeches hugged her slim, womanly hips as her cloak flared. The sight made thinking hard, but he was aware that he made no real effort to draw even with her and lose that view.

  “You could have come and told me,” she said.

  “He was sick.” Oh Ilmater, this was turning out worse than he thought it could. Each lie piled more uncertainly on the other, all of them waiting to come tumbling down.

  “So sick that you couldn’t come tell me?” She glanced over her shoulder and caught his eye.

  Luckily he hadn’t been watching beneath the cloak’s edge. “Aye. He had no one to stay with him.”

  Sabyna gave a very unladylike curse. “You’re lying.”

  “Lady?” Jherek thought frantically, wondering which lie she’d caught him in.

  “I live aboard a ship, Malorrie,” she said, coming to a stop. “That makes for a very small world.”

  Breezerunner sat in the harbor over her shoulder. The sails were trimmed and men scurried about in the rigging with lanterns, repairing damage where they found it. They looked like busy fireflies moving through the upper sections of the ship. Jherek heard Captain Tynnel’s voice crack orders.

  “How long did you think I would go before I found out the truth?” she demanded.

  Jherek wished he knew which truth she was talking about.

  “Not long after we’d sailed from Athkatla,” she went on, “I was told about the fight you had with Aysel—and why.”

  A burn of embarrassment spread across Jherek’s face and he had to break the eye contact by pretending to check his pouch.

  “What frustrates me,” Sabyna went on, “is that you were taken from Breezerunner instead of Aysel.”

  “He’s crew,” Jherek said. “I wasn’t.” As ship’s mage, she should have known that.

  “You would have been crew once we made Baldur’s Gate,” she said. “You as good as had the job.”

  The thought pleased and excited Jherek. Traveling overland wasn’t something he wished to do again. He shrugged. The fact still remained that Tynnel had made his choice.

  “You also could have talked to me,” she went on.

  “I was told that wouldn’t be possible,” Jherek said.

  “By who?”

  Jherek hesitated, realizing that he’d said more than he intended. Evidently whoever had spoken to the ship’s mage hadn’t told her everything.

  “Captain Tynnel told you that, didn’t he?” she demanded.

  Jherek considered his options. Lying again was something he was determined not to do. He stood close enough to her to smell the delicate lilac scent she wore. Most of it was gone, worn away by time and the smoke that wreathed the air, but enough of it remained that it stirred memories of dining on meals she’d prepared for them in her cabin.

  “Never mind,” she went on before he could reply. “I can answer that one myself. Tynnel did tell you to stay away.” She muttered another oath, more virulent and descriptive than the last.

  It wasn’t that Jherek had never heard the curses before, though they weren’t casual ones most seafarers would know, but rather the fact that Sabyna had called them out that stunned him.

  “Look,” she said, looking at him levelly, “first of all, I want to get a couple things straight with you. Then I’m going to see to Tynnel.” She paused. “Don’t get me wrong, I think the idea of you defending my honor is flattering, but I live at sea, a place where few women actually stay for long. When I became a ship’s mage, my father protested, as did my mother. They both knew the coarse laxity of men at sea, and they knew how hard it would be to be the only woman on board a ship. Did you think Aysel’s comments were the first of that kind that had ever been made?”

  “I never considered it,” Jherek said. Then he realized Sabyna must not have been told that Aysel was commenting on his feelings for her. He was quietly thankful.

  “You should have,” she said flatly.

  A small group of Flaming Fist mercenaries approached them with drawn swords. The sergeant of the guard asked for their papers.

  Before Jherek could explain that he had none, Sabyna produced hers, unfolding them with a flourish. “Read it and hit the cobblestones,” she told the sergeant. “I don’t have time for delays.”

  The sergeant held his lantern close to the papers as he read. Evidently he was chastised enough that he didn’t bother asking for Jherek’s. He thanked the ship’s mage for her time and moved his group on.

  “That wasn’t the first time something like that has happened,” Sabyna said. “I handle it when it does. That’s how I maintain the respect of this crew. I won’t put up with it, and I’ve got the means to make my displeasure known. If a sharp tongue won’t get the message across, I have my magic. You stepping in like you did undermined that to a degree. By fighting you, Aysel now considers himself deserving of my attentions.”

  “I hadn’t considered that.” Jherek felt bad. He should have known the ship’s mage could take care of herself. She’d faced pirates and storms at sea, and he’d discounted her independence. “I apologize.”

  “No,” Sabyna stopped him. “There’s no need to apologize. As I said, I found your defense of me to be very flattering. I wish I could have thanked you.”

  Jherek thought about that, feeling a little better. “You have a curious way of showing it.” He’d seen Madame Iitaar go through mood changes that had confused him. Even Malorrie hadn’t been able to understand them. The phantom’s only words of advice were to remain as quiet as possible and offer only a small target till it passed.

  “That was then. Now I’m mad.” A small smile twisted her lips. “I was afraid I wasn’t going to see you again. Faerûn is a big place, and so much is going on now.”

  Jherek played her words back in his ears again. She’d been afraid she wouldn’t see him again. He worked hard to keep the smile from his own face. Unconsciously, he twisted the pearl disk in his hand, barely aware of it.

  He was also unaware of the figures that had closed in on them until it was too late. He glanced up, noticing that Sabyna had seen them as well.

  The ship’s mage shifted, putting the dock and the harbor to her back as she moved to Jherek’s left, leaving his sword arm free.

  A dozen men surrounded them, all thick-bodied from indulgences in drink and food as well as hard work. Jherek marked them as sailors because of their dress, weapons, and the rolling gait that showed in their movements.

  None of the Flaming Fist mercenaries were anywhere to be seen.

  The leader was a huge man with fiery red hair that caught highlights from torches in the distance. He carried a battle-axe in one hand and wore a small shield on his other arm. The shield was featureless except for a score of scars from previous battles.

  A smaller man stood at his side, cloaked and hooded, his narrow shoulders pinched and rounded together. He kept his hands in the voluminous sleeves of his cloak.

  “Sabyna Truesail,” the big man rumbled. “Ship’s mage of Breezerunner.”

  “I don’t know you,” Sabyna said.

  Jherek kept his hand away from his sword hilt, hoping he was overreacting. Still, he noticed Sabyna’s hands moving, readying her spells.

  The big man grinned. “I’m Captain Vurgrom, of Maelstrom.
”

  “I don’t know your ship either.”

  Vurgrom shrugged, the smile never leaving his lips and never quite touching his eyes. “It doesn’t matter, lassie. It’s a long way from here.”

  “What do you want with me?”

  Jherek glanced around, but no one seemed to be paying them any attention.

  “It’s not you,” Vurgrom said. “It’s your ship I’m after. Piece of business turned nasty on us tonight, and we want to get out of Baldur’s Gate before morning. Unfortunately, the ship we’d borrowed took a lot of damage. My crew noticed your craft fared better. Took a little bit of doing, but we found out about you. Figured your captain might be wishful of keeping you in one piece. I guess I intend to find out.”

  Leather hissed at Jherek’s side. In the next instant, Sabyna held long-bladed knives in both hands. The young sailor hadn’t made a move yet.

  Vurgrom grinned. “You can come easy or you can come hard. If I have to, I can chop some pieces off and take your captain what’s left. I’m still going to wager he’ll be ready to deal.”

  “No,” Sabyna answered.

  Vurgrom waited just a moment, then nodded. He didn’t wait for his men. He brought the battle-axe forward, holding well down on the haft so he’d get a full stroke.

  The axe blade whistled as it cleaved the air and sped for Jherek’s head.

  X

  5 Kythorn, The Year of the Gauntlet

  Stepping to the side and twisting to avoid Vurgrom’s battle-axe, Jherek slid his sword and hook free of his waist sash. His clothing still remained wet from his earlier dip in the harbor and constricted his movement. His muscles flared in protest at being forced to perform again without rest.

  Vurgrom’s axe missed him by inches, biting deep into the cobblestones and shattering some of them as the other men closed in. For the moment their numbers worked against them, though Jherek was sure that wouldn’t remain so.

  The young sailor moved aggressively forward, slashing at Vurgrom. The blade crashed fire across the mail shirt without penetrating. For a big man, Vurgrom moved surprisingly fast, bringing the shield around as Jherek hammered at him again. The sword struck sparks from the shield. While the young sailor tried to recover after expecting the sword to find a home in flesh, Vurgrom stepped forward and body-blocked him with the shield.

  The massive blow slammed Jherek from his feet and knocked him back almost three feet. Shaken, the young sailor stumbled back and set himself again. Vurgrom lashed out with the shield again, expecting Jherek to still be off-balance. Instead, the young sailor slammed into the shield at an angle, rolling off it toward Vurgrom’s front. He brought the sword around again, but this time barely succeeded in getting it up in time to block the battle-axe.

  The impact rang along Jherek’s arm.

  Vurgrom came for him with the shield again. Anticipating the move, recognizing it as a favored one, the young sailor ducked and went low. The shield raked against his chest but lacked the force to knock him away. Reaching with the hook, he snaked it under the shield and hooked Vurgrom in the back of the leg. The big man yowled in pain.

  With the hold secured, Jherek yanked. For a moment he thought the man’s sheer weight would keep him from succeeding. If it had been strength against strength, Vurgrom might have held, but the hook was firmly embedded in the big man’s flesh with tearing pain.

  Screaming curses, Vurgrom stopped fighting the hook’s pull. The leg came up and he went down.

  Jherek didn’t have time to capitalize on his success. One of Vurgrom’s men came at him with a short sword. The young sailor abandoned the hook, unable to tear it free of Vurgrom’s leg. Swiveling, he met the man’s attack in a fencer’s pose that Malorrie had taught him.

  Steel rang on steel as the man sought to tear through Jherek’s defenses. The young sailor gave himself over to his training, keeping his arm loose but strong, defending then attacking. The sword became a live thing in his hand, compelled by countless hours spent under Malorrie’s demanding tutelage. Jherek moved ceaselessly, small steps that kept them in a tight circle, using the man’s own body and attack to keep the others from them.

  A man staggered away, grasping futilely at the throwing knife protruding from his throat. Evidently Sabyna’s skills with a knife were considerable.

  “Skeins,” the ship’s mage called from behind Jherek when he’d deliberately tried to protect her. “Attack.”

  From the corner of his eye, Jherek watched as hundreds of scraps of cloth flew from the bag of holding the ship’s mage held open. They whirled and flew as if trapped in the eye of a hurricane, stretching out and growing longer until they reached serpentine proportions.

  Even though he’d seen it before, Jherek’s first impulse was to get away from the creature, and it took a lot of control not to act on that impulse. It was a raggamoffyn, a sentient creature that could strike or simply wrap around a human and take over that person’s thoughts. The young sailor had seen it in action before.

  There were some who said raggamoffyns were a race unto themselves, while others said they’d been created by a wizard with only evil intentions. Sabyna had created this raggamoffyn to be her familiar, taking the scraps that made up its physical body from her dead brother’s burial shroud.

  The raggamoffyn rode the breeze, nearly nine feet long now, coiling restlessly. Its initial appearance startled the attackers, driving them back. Sabyna threw a second knife, piercing a man’s leg and eliciting a sharp yell.

  The noise of the battle attracted a nearby group of Flaming Fist mercenaries. The four warriors sprang into action, shouting to the pirate group to identify themselves as they ripped swords from scabbards.

  The thin-shouldered man with Vurgrom turned and gestured at them, saying words Jherek couldn’t understand. Three of the men staggered and fell limply to the ground. The fourth appeared disoriented but that lasted only until one of Vurgrom’s men ran him through.

  The raggamoffyn streaked through the air and broke into its myriad pieces. It plastered itself to the man, covering him from the waist up in seconds, each piece locking into place securely. The man’s mouth opened as he tried to scream but no sound came out. He dropped to his knees, letting go his sword as he struggled to tear the cloth away.

  More knives glinted in Sabyna’s hands as she avoided an attacker and partially turned the blade aimed at her head with one of the knives. Razored steel edges whispered together for a heartbeat.

  Beyond the battle, Jherek saw men standing in the shadows, unwilling to take part in any fight that wasn’t their own or where they couldn’t tell immediately who was in the right. The young sailor fought deliberately, parrying, blocking, then riposting quickly, escalating the speed until he went from the defensive to the offensive. The sword was a blur before him and he stared through it, concentrating on the man across from him. He beat the man’s shield down, knocking it from his numbed hands and causing him to step back.

  “Damn you, Pharan!” Vurgrom roared as he pushed himself to his feet. He threw the blood-covered hook away. “I told you I wanted that woman alive. If you hurt her, I’ll kill you myself!”

  Pharan drew back. Taking advantage of his withdrawal, Sabyna lashed out with one of her knives, scoring a bloody line on his face.

  “Zensil,” Vurgrom shouted. “I want this ended now.”

  The thin-shouldered man nodded. Arcane words spewed from his lips, and his hands traced curious designs in the air. He drew a long length of small-linked chain from a pouch at his waist, stringing it out with quick movements.

  Pressing his own advantage, Jherek slapped his opponent’s sword aside a final time, then put a foot of steel through the leather armor and into the pirate’s heart. The dead man started to fall, taking the young sailor’s sword as well. Jherek faced the mage, not knowing what the man planned to do with the chain. Placing his foot on the corpse, the young sailor yanked his sword free. He breathed heavily, perspiring from his efforts in spite of the wet clothes.

&nb
sp; The pirates drew back as the mage worked his magic. Even Vurgrom hesitated.

  Jherek stomped on the abandoned shield at his feet, flipping it up in a trick Malorrie had taught him. He caught the shield, managing to run his hand through one of the leather straps on the back. Pulling it over his arm, he ran for the ship’s mage.

  Jherek caught her around the waist with his sword arm, pulling her into the crook of his elbow and into a run. He lifted the shield to block the man who swung at them. The sword crashed into the shield, almost coming free of his grip. He asked Ilmater’s blessing as he powered forward, knocking the man down. Then no one stood in their way. Breezerunner remained before them.

  “Run!” he told Sabyna. He gave her a final push to get her started, then turned to face Vurgrom and his men in order to buy her more time. He felt the weight of the pearl disk in his pouch and experienced a momentary pride. He might not have been the one the disk had been intended for, no hero with a lofty destiny awaiting his arrival, but he could sell his life with honor to protect the ship’s mage if it came to that.

  “Malorrie!” Sabyna called behind him.

  “Go!”

  “I’m not leaving you.”

  Jherek heard her shifting behind him, the leather soles of her boots grazing the cobblestones. “You’ve got a sinking ship here, lady, and naught but storm-tossed seas about you. Get clear while you’re able.”

  The wizard wound the length of chain over his head, then threw it at Jherek.

  The young sailor lifted the shield to block the mass of coiled links, thinking the chain was meant as a diversion more than anything. It clanked against the shield’s metal surface. Instead of falling to the ground, however, the chain snaked over the shield and lunged at Jherek. It wound around him quickly, twisting and weaving to avoid the shield and the sword as he tried to block it.

  The chain wrapped his chest twice, holding tight enough to squeeze the air from him, then it wound out and captured his arms, threading down to encircle his ankles as well, pulling them tight. Off-balance, Jherek fell. He watched helplessly as Vurgrom closed in and swung the battle-axe. His last thought was that he’d failed to protect Sabyna. Then the battle-axe hit him.