by Chris Ward
‘As if to blow the cobwebs away,’ Scion had told them, ‘He is a different man at sea. You’ll find that soon enough.’ He’d chuckled before continuing. ‘We likes to say he’s a right cow of a man up the river, but a real bull on the sea.’
Serenna had replied with a scoff and a little too-quick toss of her head, ‘I dare say. Any improvement would be welcomed. Cow or bull, I prefer human.’
‘Don’t you forget Lady Serenna,’ the big black man chided gently, ‘It was Captain Tyne as saved your skins yesterday. Both of you. Clever plan it was, and make no mistake.’
‘You’re right,’ Serenna nodded, accepting the rebuke, and I will thank him again. He took a big risk.’
Wormwood had provided a breakfast of sorts in their cabin, a bread roll and a warm stew containing a variety of vegetables and a little fresh meat.
‘We like to eat the meat up quick like,’ he had grinned, showing all his yellow and misshapen teeth, ‘It doesn’t last at sea, so we might as well enjoy it now. Won’t be long afore you will remember this meal with the fondness of a lover.’ His greasy chuckle reminded Rema of the previous day when he had shared his hideout with the little man, and it was not a pleasant memory. He interrupted quickly.
‘Where are we headed Wormwood? Has the Captain informed anyone?’
‘Well, that I can tell you, ‘cause I know it for a fact.’ Wormwood seemed to like being in possession of information others did not have, for his tone became quite pompous, and he drew himself up to his full height, which was nothing to speak of.
‘Out with it then,’ Serenna spoke impatiently and Wormwood looked offended.
‘Why is everyone so impatient?’ Receiving no sympathy, only a stony silence, he went on. ‘Out of Ryhversend Captain always heads for Lavas, one of the Crater Islands in the bight we’re crossing; Oudin’s Bight. The wind is always fair till then, usually on the stern or off the starboard quarter. Lavas is where we pick up the water, the trading water that is.’
‘Trading water?’ Rema inquired, perplexed.
‘Aye, trading water I calls it. Lavas is an old volcanic mountain. Climbs right out of the sea, really impressive it is up close. And far off, you can see it from leagues away. Anyhow it has a spring about half way up which has flowed continuously for hundreds of years I am told. The cleanest, purest water you could ever drink. It tastes like heaven and has a way of healing all manner of illness. People pay a pretty sum for a flask of the water from Lavas’ spring. Captain always fills up with what we can carry and trades it as we head out to the usual ports. All along the coast we sell it as quick as we tie up and goes ashore. Legend has it that traders have been coming to Lavas for centuries for the water. Wars have been fought over that mountain so I’m told. Well guarded these days, but there you go. Water like gold it is. Wait till you taste it. Where are you from anyhows: you don’t ever hear of Lavas water?’
‘No,’ said Rema quietly, I’ve never heard of it, but thank you Wormwood for enlightening me. I am interested in what you say about being guarded. Is it dangerous for us do you think?’ Wormwood also liked to be asked for advice, and so took an exaggerated time to reply, rubbing his hairy chin theatrically, as if considering the gravity of his reply. When he realised that both Serenna and Rema were leaning forward eagerly waiting for his opinion he quickly replied.
‘No danger!’ And he was gone before they had a chance to inquire further, leaving them both surprised by the little man’s behaviour.
‘We need to make some plans Rema,’ Serenna sighed as she soaked up the last of her stew with the bread roll. ‘I asked Tyne for passage to a port of our choosing, but one which he could accommodate. And Scion is right, we do owe him, for it was a clever trick he played yesterday.’ Rema nodded and leaned back against the rough hewn timber planking behind him. The stew had filled him, but his mind was unable to settle.
‘Plans we will make Serenna, but first we must talk. I feel like I have so many competing bits and pieces of information in my head that nothing is clear. I need to find some order in all this. So much has happened.’ He clenched his fists and gently tapped them, knuckles first against the sides of his head; his eyes were closed so he did not see the gentle smile of concern which Serenna wore, or the hand she reached out as though to comfort him; but she withdrew it, unsure of how it would be received.
‘Sylvion is a prisoner.’ Rema spoke loudly with a tinge of anger underpinned by regret and guilt. ‘I should be doing all I can to rescue her.’ He had a picture of his beloved woman, frightened and mistreated, beaten and abused. It did not bear thinking about, but it was ever present. ‘And I am so far from her.’
‘We are now at least travelling in the right direction.’ Serena spoke softly, ‘Well almost! And a successful escape from Ramos is a good start. At least we now have a chance to help her.’ Rema looked across at his friend and smiled and nodded.
‘That is true. It is a start. But where to now?’ They sat in silence until Serenna offered a simple statement.
‘There is the prophecy Rema. We have spoken of it. The Wisden you spoke with gave it to you. Perhaps we should try to understand it more ourselves, for I have learnt that these things in Revelyn are powerful, and will perhaps direct our path correctly should we grasp its truth.’ Rema looked at her blankly as if from far off, then he smiled and became almost animated.
‘You are right Serenna. I cannot now save Sylvion, but that will come I pray. Now we must deal with what we have. You are right. You are right.’ As he repeated himself, he reached, fumbling into his tunic and withdrew the now somewhat creased and battered parchment which held the prophecy. He smoothed it on his knee and then read it aloud. The simple words filled the small cabin and seemed to make the timbers of the ship resonate and come alive. It was a moment of reawakening.
There is honour enough in madness
As the battle rages forward.
But there is madness without honour
Which is evil’s own reward
Whilst the Lord of Luminescence
Shines his darkness overall
Binding in the shadows
Holding all in thrall
And it shall ever seem to be
This way forevermore
Until the fighters muster and from eagle’s eye set forth
Until the archer rises
And stands with back to wall
Until the final battle
And the last arrow falls
As Rema finished reading, the ship shook and the small cabin in which they dwelt suddenly seemed less confining. They were both overcome by a wonderful feeling of purpose which had no sensible explanation, but now with a new resolve they felt more able to deal with the future and all it held.
‘The Wisden are convinced that I am this archer. Certainly Lord Petros agrees with them, or he wouldn’t be pursing me with such hate.’ Rema began where he had some understanding. ‘I just can’t get it into my head. I know that Sylvion is the true heir to the throne, and so my relationship with her must make me a possibility...’
‘Look Rema,’ Serenna interrupted. We’ve been over this before; I think we have to accept it that you are. That you are the one of which the prophecy speaks. We can spend wasted hours trying to work it all out. Let’s accept that you are this archer and work from there. We are bound to find out in any case.’ Serenna’s practical approach found no argument with Rema, so he nodded and then continued.
‘Alright then, if I am then, this archer, according to the prophecy there is to be a battle, and it seems to be a big one. I’ve never been in anything like it. And so where does the army come from? You need an army for such a battle, and the archer... well me...I’m not alone, or at least that’s what I understand the prophecy to be saying.’
‘The eagle’s eye Rema, that’s what it says.’ Serenna held the parchment and read it aloud...
‘Until the fighters muster, from eagle’s eye set forth...’ They both looked at each other, and shook their heads.
> ‘Even the Wisden don’t understand that,’ said Rema slowly. Palid, the one I spoke to in the tavern said they had looked everywhere for some clue as to what that meant...the eagle’s eye. They have libraries to look through, books of old teachings and maps and they don’t know. So how do we find out?’
‘Speaking of maps,’ Serenna remembered something. Tyne gave me one for you to look at, that evening I had dinner with him...’ Their eyes meet awkwardly. There was so much Rema wanted to ask about that night, and yet he had promised not to inquire; she had pressed him hard on this. Still it was hard not to think of it. It was a frozen moment in time, each wondering what the other was thinking, before Serenna suddenly broke the spell and pulled the map from her bunk and laid it before them on the narrow floor. In silence they looked at it. It was a map of Revelyn, showing many features and well detailed. There was of course no eagle’s eye. They both knew it would be much harder than that.
Suddenly a face appeared at the door. Wormwood had returned.
‘Captain sent me to inquire of your wellbeing. Just a moment ago the whole ship jumped, twitched maybe... very strange it was. Captain Tyne can feel anything out of the ordinary, feels the boat through his feet he does. No problems then. Good, well I’ll report back.’ And he was gone. Just an ugly head around the door frame, a rapid speech and then nothing. Once more they looked at each other perplexed by his strange behaviour.
‘That must have been the prophecy,’ whispered Serenna quietly. ‘I thought it was nothing really, but it was, even the Captain felt it; just the reading of it made something happen. Something special I think.’ She spoke in a quiet and contemplative awe.
‘Well at least that makes sense,’ said Rema in reply, ‘the Wisden said as much; there is great power in the telling he said, or something like that. I thought nothing of it at the time, but perhaps we have some power in making the prophecy come true, if we make it known, if it is spoken, if people hear it.’ He sat and nodded his head as though having won a difficult argument with himself. Serenna considered this for a time. She was excited by the idea.
‘Perhaps we can.’ She said in a whisper as she thought more on the matter.
‘Perhaps what?’ Rema inquired.
‘Perhaps we can get others to read the prophecy, say it aloud, maybe that is the start of the army Rema. Maybe the ordinary people can be used to help. It’s clear that they are living miserably under this present ruler. In Ramos it is bad enough, and I have lived to see it these past years; each year more fear, more injustice, more grief. And out in the country it is far worse. Whole communities disbanded and land seized. Do you remember that burning town we saw on the river bank? It is happening all over the country, whilst corrupt officials steal from the poor and grow rich. I used to ask Jycob why, but he is such as sycophant, he will do anything to gain favour at the palace. It was one reason I stopped loving him...’ She halted realising that she lost the main thread of her thinking and had drifted into revealing more than she wanted, but Rema had to ask.
‘Did you ever love him Serenna? I can’t judge the man, for I never knew him, but why him? Why marry such a man? Was it love Serenna?’ She held up a hand.
‘Please Rema, I can’t answer those questions. Not at the moment. I am not even sure I can answer them. Not yet. Maybe not for a long time.’ They sat quietly and allowed the silence to grow and envelop them before Rema reached over and took her hand.
‘I’m sorry. You’ve just walked away from everything you had, then had to deal with Tyne. It’s been more than enough. I’m sorry.’ Serenna tossed her head and pulled her hand from his in an attempt to show that she was in control of her emotions, which was far from the truth, for his touch like that, so gentle and warm almost brought her undone.
‘Huh! I’ve told you Rema, I don’t regret a thing. And besides I feel excited by the future, whatever it brings. And don’t you see, a short time ago we were sitting here wondering about it all and now we feel better. I know I do. It’s like we’ve found this great ocean wave and it’s picked us up. What an adventure Rema.’ Her eyes shone and Rema was not sure if there were tears of sadness or laughter, or both, ready to erupt. He smiled at her.
‘Come on then, let’s go see what the intrepid Captain Tyne has planned for the day.’ They climbed the short stairway to the mid-deck and emerged into a bright sunshine and a strong wind from the south and west, almost over the stern. The ship was cutting through the sea like a knife, in a gentle but powerful manner. There were crew members all about, holding ropes, and silently waiting for orders. High up in the rigging on the foremast, four sailors were preparing to release a final sail. Rema felt a tension in the air, and a palpable sense of expectation. He realised that something special was about to happen.
‘Over here you two, quick about it!’ Scion called from the starboard rail. He was genuinely excited. ‘You are about to witness why the great Captain Tyne is the legend he is.’ They went and stood with him as he explained.
‘You see the waves,’ Scion indicted the swells which the Scoria was chasing across the sea. They were large and powerful and faster than the ship, and as they passed by the vessel, she slumped a little in the depths between each crest, before slewing a little and losing steerage as the helmsman fought to keep her on course as she rode stern first up the front of the next chasing wave.
‘Tyne is sailing at an angle across the wave fronts,’ Scion gave a commentary. We can’t match the wave speed but every now and then a larger wave will pick us up and we surf for a distance, but eventually we fall off the back of the crest and wallow around waiting for our next ride. But Tyne knows how to get a boat this size onto the wave and stay there. He’s about to try. The crew know what to do, but it’s dangerous, for once we start to surf the rudder looses grip and if the helmsman isn’t careful we can slew around and broach.’
‘Well that sounds bad, whatever it means,’ Rema was fascinated but was unfamiliar with the term.
‘Broaching.. .sorry, we get pushed beam on and roll with the next wave lifting us. Side on we can put the masts in the water and even capsize the vessel.’
‘Who’s afraid of a little capsize!’ Serenna spoke with an excitement in her voice, and Rema was reminded of the danger they both eagerly embraced in their youth in the high mountains around The Safeness. It was good to see her so alive once more. Unconsciously she gripped his arm and they stood together in anticipation.
‘Here we go, hold on now,’ Scion spoke with an edge in his voice which sent a shiver through both Rema and Serena.
Tyne gave an order as the Scoria commenced climbing, stern first towards the crest of a following wave which was at least half as big again as the normal sets. At his word relayed to them, the four sailors high up, let loose the final large sail which caught and filled in an instant. The power of that sail could be felt as an incredible shudder throughout the ship. At the very moment at which the Scoria was about to reach the crest, the helmsman put the helm hard over, enough so the ship swung until she was now moving in the exact same direction as the waves, and in so doing this put the wind directly astern giving all the sails an increase in power. The acceleration could be felt through the deck which seemed to suddenly hum with life. And then the Scoria was surfing, sitting just in front of the crest of the large wave, and as Rema and Serenna watched, the wave fronts no longer went past. They were now travelling at the speed of the waves and it felt as close to flying as it was possible in a huge sea going vessel.
‘See Rema, what did I tell you! We’ve been picked up by a huge wave. The journey has begun! She gripped his arm and he let her, enjoying the closeness and living in the moment, for that was enough right then.
‘Riding a big wave indeed Serenna,’ he whispered silently in agreement, ‘and I wonder where it will end.’ He gently kissed the top of her head. She was completely unaware of his gesture, but Captain Lethyne Tyne saw, and swore quietly to himself, before turning back to his ship which was flying like it had never flown before.
In fact he knew something was different, almost magical, for he’d had the Scoria surfing before, but not like this, not so the whole ship became a living creature, almost aware of what she were doing. He stood by the helmsman on the rear deck, his little kingdom, his small place from whence he ruled his ship and his crew, and he felt overcome with emotion. What has happened? he mused, for he was a man well-used to feeling the sea and the ship, sensing changes and moods through his feet and the sounds of timber creaking, and the straining of ropes and canvas . Not long before the ship had suddenly jumped and shuddered for no reason. He knew his ship and this was new, something he had never felt before; in fact so strange was it, that he’d sent Wormwood to check that his passengers were alright. Things had been different since they had come aboard. Lethyne Tyne was wise in the ways of the sea, a master of his craft, and he realised that whatever had possessed his ship had something to do with his passengers, and in particular the man he had so quickly dismissed in his pursuit of the Lady Serenna. Tyne scratched his rough and scaly chin in absent minded contemplation. ‘Perhaps I have misread you Rema Bowman,’ he whispered with a hiss.
‘What‘s that Captain?’ The helmsman was a hugely built man with enormous thighs, ideal for holding the wheel hard against the moving seas which demanded the rudder obey a different law.
‘Nothing Smig,’ Tyne was jolted back from his thoughts to focus once more on his ship, ‘keep her straight man, at this speed if we broach we’ll roll her and lose the masts at least.’
‘Not with me at the wheel sira,’ Smig was supremely confident and smiling broadly, ‘I can feel her talking to me through the wheel captain, she’ll not be broaching this day.’
The two seamen stood together as the Scoria roared on, travelling a little north of east with a steady wind over her stern and her bow carving out an enormous wave which already sported several porpoises that had suddenly appeared, to cavort in their own mysterious way, diving and jumping and effortlessly keeping pace with the ship. In that moment, Captain Lethyne Tyne had to admit that he had never felt better. In fact so good did he feel that he waved toward Serenna and Rema, inviting them to join him on the rear deck; it was an honour not easily bestowed, nor frequently given.
