Roads of the Righteous and the Rotten (Order of Fire Book 1)

by Kameron A. Williams

  “I never knew you to travel with so many boys,” he said. “What, have you changed your tastes?”

  “Nonsense, captain,” yelled Raff, “you must need another ale. Girl, another ale for Blue and one for me. That man will be paying.”

  The barmaid looked at Zar who squinted disapprovingly before nodding in agreement.

  Captain Blue erupted in laughter. “Your boys even buy your drinks!” He shouted.

  “I’m not sure the captain can handle another ale,”

  called Zar, chuckling.

  Captain Blue’s face stiffened and his smile vanished as he marched up so close to Zar that their noses stood an inch apart. He stared steadily into Zar’s unblinking gaze for a few moments, and Zar smiled as his eyes stood empty and fixed. Then all at once, the captain bellowed out in laughter and slapped his hand on Zar’s shoulder. “This one’s got mettle! I like ya lad!”

  “He’s got a job for us is what he’s got,” said Raff, snatching his mug of ale from the barmaid who had just approached. “And gold to pay if you’ll do it.”

  Zar ordered a mug of ale for himself, asked the others in the group if they wanted one also, and paid the barmaid for his, Blue’s, and Raff’s ale, as well as a mug for Jareb, Dover, and Landis.

  “What am I doin’ and how much ya payin?” asked Captain Blue as the rest of the party settled into chairs around Blue’s center table. The drunken patrons who had been carousing around Blue also settled themselves into seats, seeing their festivities had been interrupted by more important business.

  “I need a captain that can lead this crew to the land across the sea—now,” said Zar, holding out the gemstone between his fingers for the captain to see. “Do you know what that is?”

  The captain peered forward and focused his drunken eyes on the red, opaque crystal without saying a word.

  “It’s a fire diamond,” Zar stated.

  “So you’re going to give me that little stone if I promise to get you to Serradiia?”

  “No,” said Zar. “I’m going to give you twenty pieces of gold if you promise to get me to Serradiia. I’ll give you the fire diamond when you get us there—if you get us there.”

  “If I get you there?” the captain shouted. “Do you know who I am, lad? I’m Captain Earnrich Blue! I was sailin’ the blue while you were still suckin’ your mother’s tits. I sailed the blue for so long they started callin’ me Blue! I’ve crossed Dragon’s Bed a dozen times in a year, and I’ve sailed so far into the Blue Deep that I never should’ve made it home! But here I am!”

  The whole room was attending the pirate’s speech, and many of them cheered as Captain Blue boasted, but Zar’s company stood quiet—all except Raff—and waited for the man to finish. When he did, Zar smirked and said calmly, “So you can,” inciting a burst of laughter from the pirate and himself, as well as the rest of the company and the other patrons that had very much been a part of the conversation. “Aye, I can! You hand me my gold, and have that diamond ready for me when we get there!”

  20

  “ALL RIGHT! LOOSE THE SAIL!” Captain Blue roared, and instantly, the lad, Arvii, sprung into motion, jetted to the mast and began climbing up. His legs wrapped around the mast’s pole, and with his arms he pulled himself up the rope that dangled on the side of the mast and went all the way up to the yardarm. The lad moved with such sureness and skill that you only had to watch him for a second to realize he had done it a thousand times. Before long he was hanging upside down on the yard and uncoiling the ropes that held down the folded sail.

  Moments later Arvii swung down the rope and landed stealthily back on the deck.

  “Sheet home the sails!” Blue yelled. “C’mon, sheet ‘em home!”

  The whole crew began moving simultaneously, all assuming positions next to one another as they pulled on the ropes to tighten the sails. They fell into place as if they had sailed together before, each man finding a station and doing his part. It almost made Zar feel left out. Soon the captain was yelling to weigh anchor, and it began reeling up just moments after he had spoken.

  Zar was rather proud of the motley crew. Though they had barely left the harbor, their cooperation so far had been deft and efficient. The crew seemed neither to want nor need his help, and as the vessel floated forward and turned to the west, Zar stared at the open sea ahead. Its scent and breeze felt like brook water on a parched throat.

  Setting out on the Lucky Dolphin kept the crew busy, and Zar, finding himself standing alone, went below to visit Asha. He lifted the wooden door of the hold and the iron hinge creaked as it swung open. He saw a head of brown curls coming up and greeted Yuna as she made her way onto the deck. Zar noticed her stomach protruding ever so slightly as she moved past him. The woman was starting to show.

  He couldn’t help but gaze at her belly as she passed , and Yuna, as if knowing what he saw, looked down at herself and exclaimed, “My blanket!” as she ran back down into the hold to retrieve a quilt she had left behind. She immediately wrapped the blanket around her—mainly around her stomach and upper body, with the blanket clutched under her arms and running over her legs. It was clear to Zar she hadn’t yet told Stroan, and judging by the fact that she was attempting to hide herself, didn’t plan to.

  “She isn’t going to tell him,” said Zar, stepping into Asha’s stall in the hold. “She knows the man better than we.

  It must be for a reason.”

  Asha rubbed her snout against Zar’s outstretched hand and a muffled groan sounded.

  “Oh, that again. I’m not running, Asha—Krii isn’t safe for us now.”

  Asha pushed her snout into Zar as he stroked her head and neck, running his fingers through her fur.

  “What would you have me do? Join Tuskin like some sort of hero? Take up arms against Snowstone and save the country? I fight well, but not that well. I won’t march against Snowstone—even the sound of it is absurd. I’ll be killed, and so will you.

  “We don’t even know if Tuskin’s right. If he is—Barek and Shahla will stay far from the madness. I’m sure of it. Do not make me concerned about this. We are going to Serradiia. That’s it.” Zar reached into Asha’s saddle bag and pulled out a rolled up parchment. “Do you know what this is? Prynner gave it to me right before we left. Remember when we met the man? He claimed he was searching for the map to Bruudor’s Keep. Well, this is it!”

  Zar unrolled the paper, reading the unfamiliar names to Asha and smiling in amazement at the drawings. “I don’t know how he found it—or if it’s authentic—but we will most certainly find out. Won’t we, Asha?”

  Zar headed back on deck and was greeted by Dover as soon as he marched over the top and final stair.

  “If we sailed straight from here it would only take three days” said Dover. “Three days and we’d be able to see the coast of Tiran.”

  “Are we not sailing straight?”

  “Aye, if this wind would keep up. If it did it’d be a straight line to the west. But Blue says it’ll likely change before the day’s gone.” Dover glanced at Captain Blue who stood proudly on the forecastle deck, staring straight into the distant sea.

  “And when it changes?” Zar inquired. “We take down the sail. And drift.”

  “Drift?”

  “Aye, and when the wind is favorable again we’ll tighten the sail. You see we have to avoid turning with the rudder. Captain Blue says the rudder creates a splash underwater—a wave—and Leviathan feels it. So we can’t use the rudder. We’ll have to wait for the wind, and angle the sail. It’s drift sailing, Zar. Quiet sailing.”

  “How long will it take,” Zar asked, “considering we will have to drift off course?”

  “Five days if we’re lucky. Eight if we’re not.”

  “It still seems a rather short journey,” said Zar, feeling relieved at Dover’s answer.

  “It is,” the man replied. “The Dragon’s Bed is a narrow blue—just perilous. Many a crew have managed to speed straight across in naught but two days
. Recklessly sailing. The lucky ones made it. The others weren’t on the sea for an hour before the dragon flew out of the waves and blew fire on the crew, snatching men from the deck and chewing up the ship.”

  “But that won’t happen to us,” said Zar, his statement sounding too much like a question.

  “No. Captain Blue is careful.”

  Zar smiled, and glanced over at Blue before bringing his eyes back to Dover. “Your opinion of the man seems to have changed rather quickly.”

  “It hasn’t,” Dover insisted. “He’s still a pirate, still a thief. But he’s as skilled as they come on the blue and now I know it. He’ll get us there—not for you or for any of us, but for that diamond you got for him. And for himself, his own safety. He’s selfish, and it’s good, because he’ll keep us away from that dragon.”

  Zar chuckled. “I never knew it before now, but you’re a very astute man, Dover.”

  “Aye, well my friend, Jareb, talked some sense into me,” the man said, laughing as he motioned to the tall whale hunter who stood several paces away gripping the ratlines.

  “He’s a practical man, and so am I.”

  “As am I,” said Zar. “Who wants to be the next Leviathan story spreading from Tiran and Bazhia?”

  “Not I,” said Dover, shaking his head.

  “And not I,” Zar agreed.

  After a few more words with Dover, Zar circled the deck of the ship and spoke with other members of the crew. The westward wind was still holding up, and most of them had nothing to do but sit on deck and stare into the sea, a thing Zar found himself doing often as well. There was something about the blue, vast and seemingly never ending, that made you want to just keep staring off into it.

  The sun lowered and the evening drew near with the ship still being propelled west by a favorable wind. Raff and Blue brought a cask of ale up to the deck and opened it. The men took drinks and ate bread for their evening meal, and after about an hour more, the sails had to be taken down due to a change in the wind. By this time most of the men had consumed a few mugs of ale, and conversation flowed as the Lucky Dolphin drifted under the night sky.

  Jareb, Dover, Raff, and Blue roared mercilessly about women—who had been with the most, or who had been with the prettiest, the craziest, or most exotic. Tavin and Juuma the fishers were busy tending lines they had dropped from the deck, boasting that the crew would be eating fresh fish from then on instead of bread. Zar looked over at Yuna sitting alone bundled in her blanket, wondering why Stroan wasn’t sitting by her side. He heard steps across the vessels wooden deck coming from his side and turned to find Stroan taking a seat on the deck beside him.

  The man looked undeniably distraught. “Something’s wrong with her. She won’t let me touch her—won’t let me stand by her for more than a second.”

  Zar turned to the man to notice his shoulders stiff and arms tense, with his right hand squeezing tightly over his left, eyes facing the ground and darting back and forth.

  “Talk to her,” said Zar.

  “She says nothing!” Stroan snapped. “I know there’s something she’s not telling me.”

  “You must give her time. It’s been so long there are undoubtedly dozens of things that have happened to both of you in that time.”

  “I stole her back from Tiomot so things could be as they were—before,” said Stroan, sighing heavily. “Why would she hide anything from me?” Stroan’s breathing became louder as they spoke, and Zar wondered how many ales it had taken to provoke whatever suspicious thoughts were now dancing in his mind.

  “Just give her time,” Zar insisted. “She has been away from you—”

  “She loves someone else,” Stroan blurted out. “Why else would she be ashamed to talk to me?”

  “Now you are jumping to conclusions,” said Zar as he shook his head. “Whatever it is, it is more likely that she is afraid to tell you because she cares what you think. If she didn’t care it would not matter. The woman loves you.”

  “I’m going to ask her, and she will tell. If she loves me as you say—if she trusts me—she’ll tell me!”

  “Another time,” Zar advised, placing his hand across Stroan’s shoulder. “You must calm down first, and no more ale tonight.”

  Stroan took a deep breath, and it was obvious the man was attempting to calm himself. His breathing quieted. “I haven’t drunk any ale tonight. Yuna wouldn’t have any, so I didn’t take any.”

  Zar tried his hardest not to look surprised, and in the silence that followed, images of when he had first met Stroan and Yuna flashed in his mind. Pieces of their conversation, images of Stroan’s passion, seeing Yuna wrapped in a blanket, the curiosity of why she wouldn’t tell him about the child, and even more so, why Stroan seemed fierier at times than a man who had consumed five pints of ale—all centralized in the silence into one questionable realization. The reason Yuna would not tell Stroan of the child was that the man would overreact. Surely, that must have been it. Zar had seen similar emotion from the man the first time he had spoken about Yuna. Not nearly as strong as this night, but the man was certainly a bit temperamental on the day they first met. He had bound Zar’s wounds and saved his life, then went on to talk feverishly about Yuna and his queen, dug his fingers in the dirt, and even snapped at Zar a few times.

  It was in Yuna’s face the first time Zar saw her. She looked afraid, and there was nothing to be fearful of now that she was away from Tiomot and with Stroan. Unless it was Stroan she was afraid of—afraid of how he would react to the news.

  “He won’t take it well,” Zar told Asha as he laid a blanket over the ground by her stall. “And she knows it. She’s afraid of what he’ll do, I daresay.”

  The morning came quickly and Zar was awakened by the yelling of the crew. He came upon the deck to find them hoisting up the sail. The westward wind they needed was back and blowing strong. Tavin and Juuma went down into the hold to cook fish they had caught, and a time later, they all enjoyed the roasted catch on the vessel’s deck. The fisherman brothers had seasoned the meal with garlic and thyme leaves, and the group was silent as they devoured the savory meal without thought of much else.

  “This food’s too good fer a ship!” exclaimed Blue. “It shits on tavern food—this here is house cookin’. It’ll make a man soft.”

  “Then stop eating it,” Juuma responded with a grin. “No!” Captain Blue protested. “Too late for all that!”

  “Far too late!” Raff shouted, plopping himself down next to the captain with mouth overflowing. “Arvii, bring up the ale so we can wash it all down.”

  The lad hopped up at once, spit a fish bone out of his mouth and made for the hold. He rolled the cask up on deck, then went back down for the mugs. As he set them upon the deck, the water stirred.

  Every person on the deck reverted to a fearful stillness, and what eventually trickled through it were the stiff words of Captain Blue, “Don’t even blink.” He sounded as if he had said it without moving his lips. All eyes were locked on the scaled object that had emerged from the waves.

  The dragon’s head extended higher, its neck covered in rigid scales, its wings fanning the water and keeping the creature afloat. Its plated head was a swampy hue, adorned on each side with shiny black orbs for eyes. After moments of eyeing the vessel, the creature’s jaw fell ajar, showing a terrible row of ivory teeth the size of daggers. Floating there with its mouth open the creature seemed to smile, and it turned its head to the side. With one eye it watched all of them, showing a mouthful of jagged teeth in what looked like a twisted and mischievous grin. The dragon looked more fiendish and frightening than anything they could have imagined. It floated close to the ship, and the distinctiveness of its gesture gave the impression that it was a creature of cleverness and judgment, and not some mindless beast that relied solely on primitive instincts. It seemed to be thinking, reasoning even, and this made it all the more terrifying.

  The company had ceased to do all but breathe as Leviathan gazed on. Then, the cr
eature closed its mouth and dove back down into the sea and was gone.

  “Mind yourselves,” said Captain Blue in a voice that was quiet and urgent. “Leviathan knows we’re here.”

  “It won’t attack us?” Arvii asked, his eyes wide in shock, his voice trembling.

  “Will it come back?” Juuma asked.

  “It won’t attack us?” Arvii asked again.

  “None of us know,” said Raff, his voice quiet for a change.

  “It was just havin’ a look at us,” insisted Blue. “It ain’t hungry, and it ain’t angry—but if that changes we’ll find out.

  You best be ready if it does.”

  The captain let out a soft laugh, and Jareb the whale hunter marched straightaway down to the hold and came back up toting the cargo he had brought aboard. What he carried over his broad shoulders was long and wrapped up entirely in hide. He walked to the poop deck and set it down, and the unknown contents clanged within the hide. Jareb untied the rope around it and unrolled the hide, revealing a dozen steel harpoons. “I hope we don’t need them,” he said, “but if we do, they’re right here.”

  The rest of the day passed with much talk of Leviathan—what it wanted, if it would return and in what manner. The harpoons had been spread evenly around the ship’s deck, so there was one not far from arms reach wherever you found yourself standing. Ale was sipped, but only a cup or two to wash down their meal, for the events that day had been quite sobering, and sober, they all seemed to silently agree, was how they should remain.

  The next morning a ghastly fog covered the sea, so thick that one could scarcely see another member of the company standing on the opposite end of the deck. Everyone peered into the sea to watch for the dragon, but their eyes saw nothing but white. Not knowing if Leviathan would return, and knowing that if it did they would not see it coming added a terror to the morning’s sailing that gripped each and every person on the vessel without mercy. Even so, Stroan had far more important matters on his mind than the dragon.

  “Aye, something is definitely wrong,” he said, motioning his head to Yuna.