Under Fallen Stars

by Mel Odom

  Hastily, sensing the rough waters he was venturing into, Jherek changed tacks. “No, lady, I wouldn’t dare to presume to do that, but coming with me isn’t a good idea.”

  “Neither is going after Vurgrom and his pirate crew by yourself.”

  “I have no choice.” Jherek looked deep into her eyes, feeling like everything was suddenly beyond his control.

  “Everyone has a choice,” she told him. “You’ve made yours and I’m making mine.”

  Tynnel glared at Jherek. “This is your fault.”

  Sabyna wheeled on him, blood dark in her face. “No. None of this is his fault. He got caught up in this whole situation because he was talking to me in Baldur’s Gate, taking care to walk me back to Breezerunner. I’ll not see him suffer for his kindness and care.”

  “So you’ll suffer for yours?” Tynnel asked.

  “This isn’t kindness. This is a debt.”

  “No,” Jherek said in a stern voice. “There’ll be no debts between us, lady. Especially not something like this.”

  “Stay out of this,” Sabyna told him, then turned her attention back to Tynnel. “You left him in Athkatla and didn’t tell me the real reason. You lied to me. If I’d had a voice in the matter, I’d have cut Aysel loose instead.”

  “It wasn’t your choice to make,” Tynnel said coldly. “I’m master of that ship.”

  “And you still are,” Sabyna agreed, “but you’re no master of me. Not then. Not now. Not ever.”

  Tynnel lifted his head and glared at her more severely.

  Sabyna glared back at him hotly. “I signed on with you because I felt I could make a difference on Breezerunner.”

  “Begging your pardon,” Mornis interrupted hesitantly, “but you do make a difference on her.”

  “Stay out of this, Mornis,” Sabyna ordered sharply.

  The big man took a step back. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I felt that I owed you something for taking me on,” Sabyna told Tynnel, “because there were other ship’s mages better trained than me. But no matter what, you owed me the truth, Captain. Somewhere in there, you obviously forgot that.”

  “You’re not going,” Tynnel said.

  Sabyna drew herself up. “You can’t stop me.”

  “Yes,” Tynnel said, reaching out suddenly to grab Sabyna by the arm, “I can, and I will if I have to. I’m not going to let you squander your life so foolishly.”

  Sabyna struggled to get free but the captain’s grip was too tight. Pain tightened her eyes.

  Before he was aware of moving, Jherek stepped forward and seized Tynnel’s thumb, breaking the grip the captain had on the woman’s arm. Continuing to pull on the man’s arm, the young sailor pressed it back against Tynnel’s chest, shoving him back and making space between him and Sabyna. Jherek stepped into the space between.

  Out of control, Tynnel swung a fist up.

  Jherek didn’t try to defend himself, and he didn’t duck because it would have put Sabyna at risk. The blow caught him on the chin, snapping his head around. Dazed, he dropped to one knee for just an instant, but pushed himself back up immediately. He stood a little uncertainly, but he felt Sabyna at his back, trying to get around him. He put out an arm and didn’t let her get past. He faced Tynnel. It went against ship’s contract and conduct for a captain to strike a crewman without just cause, but Jherek knew he wasn’t part of Breezerunner’s crew.

  Tynnel stepped back and drew his sword. “Pick up a sword, boy!” He brandished his blade.

  “I won’t fight you,” Jherek said calmly, not believing things had spun so wildly out of control.

  “Then you’re an even bigger fool than I thought. I’ll cut you down where you stand!”

  “No,” a calm, stern voice filled with thunder interrupted. “If you try to touch that boy again, Captain, you’ll deal with me. And by Lathander’s sacred covenant, you’ll not find me an easy man to deal with.”

  The speaker sat on a horse just beyond the treeline that surrounded the riverbank where they stood. The horse was a large, handsome animal covered in copper-colored barding. The man was in his middle years. A bronzed face, framed by a short-cropped black beard, peered through the visor opening of his helm, and his plate armor held the same copper color as his horse’s barding. A scarlet cloak flared out behind him, flowing out over the horse’s rump. A shield bearing a scarlet hawk in mid-flight hung over his left arm.

  “Who are you?” Tynnel demanded, turning to face the man.

  “You can address me as Sir Glawinn, a paladin in the service of Lathander, the Morninglord,” the man said proudly. “Now step away from that boy and that young woman or I’ll run you down where you stand.” He kicked his heels into the horse’s sides, urging it forward.

  Reluctantly, Tynnel gave ground.

  XIX

  10 Kythorn, the Year of the Gauntlet

  Jherek stood in the cool shade of an elm tree and looked back at the sparkling blue River Chionthar snaking through the hilly terrain. Breezerunner had vanished from sight hours ago and he found he missed the ship.

  He was dressed in his leather armor, which stank badly. He hadn’t been able to care for it while in Breezerunner’s brig and it hadn’t quite dried out from its earlier drenching. While they’d walked the remaining hours of the day, the wet leather had chafed him. He worked at the sore spots, trying to find some degree of comfort.

  “You’d be better served taking those things off, young warrior,” Glawinn said. “They’ll take longer to dry with you wearing them, and we’ve a long way to go tomorrow. If you press on too much like today and ignore that chafing it’s giving you, you’re going to get blisters and sores.”

  “I don’t know that I’d be much more comfortable out here without armor,” Jherek said, turning toward the paladin.

  Glawinn had shed his helm and upper armor, hanging it from a rack one of his two packhorses carried. He’d fed and cared for the pack animals first only so he could devote more attention to the great war-horse he rode. While the big animal crunched noisily in the feedbag over its head, the knight painstakingly scrubbed the horse down with a currycomb. Without his armor and next to the horse, the man looked smaller than Jherek would have expected a paladin to look.

  “It’s a wise man who plans for tomorrow while taking care of today,” Glawinn said.

  “Meaning you think I should take the armor off?”

  Glawinn faced him, a good-natured twinkle in his green eyes but steel in his voice. “Meaning I insist that you do exactly that.”

  “No disrespect intended,” Jherek said, curbing his anger and surprised at his own impertinence, “but I hardly think you’re in a position to tell me what to do.”

  Glawinn put the currycomb in one of the saddlebags near the tree he’d claimed as a sleeping area for the night. “Ah, now there’s anger. That can be a warrior’s truest weapon, you know, provided he makes it serve him instead of him serving it. A man who’s righteously angry ignores pain and guilt and second thoughts, and glories himself in doing the right thing.”

  Jherek swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. I was out of line. After all, you’ve been nothing but generous with us.”

  Glawinn started stripping out of the rest of the armor. “Actually, you weren’t out of line,” he said in a softer voice. “I know it’s the woman that you worry about most. You don’t know me, yet you and she find yourselves somewhat dependent on me.”

  “We didn’t mean any hardship for you,” Jherek quickly said. “If we’re imposing, I know we can make it on our own.”

  After the paladin had intervened between Tynnel and him, Jherek had readily agreed to the knight’s offer to accompany them for a time, and he’d even lent one of the packhorses for Sabyna to ride, having to sacrifice some of the supplies he’d carried with him. Jherek had kept up walking, but only just, and he’d had to argue with Sabyna several times about sharing the pack animal. She’d stubbornly insisted on walking beside him a few times, but she didn’t have the strength
or stamina he did.

  “Nonsense,” Glawinn said, sitting down and putting his back to the tree. He crossed his legs and sat with his broadsword resting across both knees. “If I’d thought you were going to be that much trouble, I’d never have offered.”

  Jherek sat across the campfire from the man and lifted an eyebrow in doubt. “Leaving a woman out in the forest to fend for herself? That doesn’t seem very knightly.”

  Glawinn laughed, and the honesty of the sound made Jherek feel good, safe despite the forest surrounding them and twilight coming on.

  “And what would you know of knights, young warrior?” Glawinn asked.

  “I’ve read about them in books.”

  “What books?”

  Jherek named some of the books Malorrie had given him to read over the years. For a phantom, Malorrie had always seemed to have an extensive library.

  “Ah, the romances,” Glawinn said when he finished. “I’ve meandered through some of them myself. I find them very prettily written and good for a few evenings’ entertainment but as far as training a paladin how to think?” He shook his head. “No, young warrior, a knight listens with his heart, the greatest gift his chosen deity has seen fit to equip him with. Have you ever read ‘Quentin’s Monograph?’ ”

  Jherek nodded. That had been one of the first things Malorrie had put before him. “It speaks about the virtues a paladin should have.”

  “Yes, and it’s a very concisely written piece, with some practical information on the care of weapons and animals, and a few of Quentin’s own adventures.” Glawinn ran his fingers down the spine of his sword blade, hardly touching it. “Modestly expressed, of course.”

  “Aye.”

  Glawinn smiled. “But you prefer the romances, of course?”

  Jherek grinned bashfully. “Aye.”

  “No worry, young warrior, there’s no shame in holding to an ideal. I just hope that you aren’t too disappointed by the things you see outside those books.”

  Jherek nodded. “I know the difference between the books and real life.” He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice. Almost everything in life was different than what was shown in those books.

  “I can tell by the markings on your face and body that you’ve been traveling the rougher side of life for the last little while.”

  “Aye. I was at the battle of Baldur’s Gate.”

  “Baldur’s Gate?” Glawinn sat up straighter. “I am only lately come from Cormyr. I’ve no news of Baldur’s Gate.”

  Jherek glanced toward the copse of trees not far distant from them where Sabyna had gone to study her spellbook. He’d been hesitant about letting her go off but in the end he hadn’t had a choice. She’d been adamant about not missing her studies, though Jherek also thought she wanted to be alone to deal with what had happened with Tynnel and Breezerunner. He quickly brought the knight up to speed on the events at Baldur’s Gate and Waterdeep, and the ships that had been taken in that time as well, because Glawinn hadn’t heard of that either.

  “The sahuagin are uprising?” the knight asked when he finished. “Does anyone know why?”

  Jherek shook his head.

  “Surely no one believes these are unrelated events?”

  “I don’t know,” Jherek answered. “Sabyna and I were kidnapped from Baldur’s Gate the night of the attack.”

  Glawinn gazed into the campfire for a moment, obviously thinking about what he’d been told. “You and your mates only just escaped the pirates from the Inner Sea who took part in this attack?”

  “That’s what Captain Tynnel told me the pirate captain Vurgrom said. You could probably ask Sabyna for more in-depth information.”

  “Have you ever heard of Vurgrom before?”

  Jherek shook his head.

  “So he could be telling the truth and he could be telling a lie?”

  “Aye, and I wouldn’t know the right of it.”

  “Then why do you pursue him?” Glawinn asked.

  “Personal reasons.”

  “With the demeanor and focus you’re wearing, I wouldn’t have thought it was any less,” the knight said sagely.

  Jherek didn’t feel comfortable not telling the knight all of it, so he did. He tried to trim down the way he’d felt about being the recipient of the pearl disk, but he found he couldn’t do that completely either.

  “So you don’t think the old priest was right in giving that disk to you?” Glawinn asked.

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  Jherek shook his head and forced a smile he didn’t feel. “If you knew me better, Sir Glawinn, you wouldn’t even need to ask that question.” He felt the burn of his father’s tattoo on the inside of his arm.

  “Ah, the wisdom of youth.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Jherek asked.

  “To be young and think I know so much again,” Glawinn said. “That would be properly painful. I’d much rather know for certain there is much I still yet need to learn.” He looked at Jherek. “Meaning no disrespect, young warrior, but you’ve hardly put in enough years to give any real weight to the guesses you make about what the gods would or wouldn’t do.”

  “One thing I do know and am sure of,” Jherek said, “is that they wouldn’t have anything to do with me.”

  Still, Jherek remembered the voice that had haunted him since childhood. He almost asked the knight about it, but stopped himself. Once he’d dealt with one fantasy, he didn’t need to start working on another.

  Glawinn let the topic slide. “So now you pursue Vurgrom to the Inner Sea?”

  “That’s where he’s got to be headed. He told Tynnel he was from the Pirate Isles, and even claimed to be the pirate king of Immurk’s Hold.”

  “Oh, I agree entirely, young warrior. Have you ever been to Westgate?”

  Jherek shook his head.

  “That will be the first city Vurgrom heads for,” Glawinn said confidently. “He may pass through Teziir, but it’ll be Westgate that’s his destination. It’s a pirate’s haven, and he’s sure to have men waiting for him there.”

  “You’ve been there?” Jherek asked.

  “A number of times. None of them pleasant or particularly long. Nor were they in any way uneventful.” Glawinn fixed him with his green-eyed stare. “Which begs the question of how you think you’re going to get something back from Vurgrom if he doesn’t want to give it back?”

  “I don’t know,” Jherek admitted.

  “The trip to Westgate is at least a tenday’s ride, young warrior, even at the pace we’ve been pushing these poor horses and with the shortcuts I know from having journeyed there before. You’d better give your actions some thought.”

  “I will,” Jherek said, then added: “I am.”

  “And Westgate is no place for a lady.”

  “Aye,” Jherek replied. “I tried to get her to listen to reason and go back with Breezerunner, but she’d have none of it.”

  “I gathered that from the way she was acting toward the captain when I arrived.”

  “I still don’t understand Tynnel’s behavior.”

  “You don’t?”

  “No.”

  “And you read those fantasies?”

  “What do those—”

  “It’s as obvious as the nose on your face,” Glawinn said. “Captain Tynnel is in love with her.”

  The paladin’s words hit Jherek like physical blows. Now he understood better why Tynnel hadn’t told Sabyna about the events in Athkatla. He tried to let nothing of the sudden aching pain and fear that threatened to consume him show on his face. He tried to understand why he felt the way he did. Images of the voyage from Velen to Athkatla flashed through his mind. He remembered the times and conversations he’d shared with the pretty ship’s mage, and the meals.

  “I see you have some feelings for the girl yourself,” the knight said.

  Jherek forced himself to speak. “I like her.”

  “And that’s all?”

  “It’s all I
know,” the young sailor said.

  “But you enjoy reading those fantasies of yours,” Glawinn said. “How can you not want to be in love? How can you say only that you like her?”

  “Because it’s all I dare,” Jherek answered. “I’m no highborn prince or liege man or warrior of high renown.”

  “You’re a warrior. You stood at the battle of Baldur’s Gate, and you stood up to that ship’s captain without a sword in your fist.”

  “I’m no warrior,” Jherek said, uncomfortable with any confusion that placed greatness on anything he’d done. “I’m just a man who’s fought for his life.”

  “Most soldiers feel the same way.”

  “As for Tynnel, I couldn’t have fought him.”

  “You would have let him kill you?”

  “I don’t think he would have.”

  Glawinn reached into his saddlebag and took out two apples. He tossed one to Jherek and kept one for himself. He polished the fruit on his shirt, then took a bite. “He would have killed you,” the knight stated flatly. “Men in love sometimes do foolish things.”

  “I could not have fought him,” Jherek said. “He wasn’t my enemy.”

  “Tynnel saw you as his because you were taking away the woman he loves.”

  Jherek felt uncomfortable. He rolled the apple between his palms, but the anticipation of taking a bite had already tightened his mouth. “I didn’t take her away.”

  “You were the reason she left.”

  “I didn’t ask her. I asked her to stay.”

  “And if you did,” Glawinn said, “that had to have angered Tynnel even further.”

  “She’s stubborn,” Jherek said. “And willful.”

  “Qualities that can work for good or ill in a man or woman.”

  “If she loves him,” Jherek said, “she should have stayed with him. She owed me nothing that would come between them.”

  Glawinn bit off a piece of his apple and offered it to the war-horse. The animal took it daintily from his palm and whickered in satisfaction. “You don’t listen very well. I said that he was in love with her. I said nothing about her being in love with him.”

  Hope flew in Jherek’s heart, but it only took remembering that it was his father who slew Sabyna’s brother to quash it. Even if that had not stood between them, what did he have to offer her?