WindFall

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  Occultus nodded.

  “Truly?” the young man asked eagerly.

  “Truly."

  Thècion grinned. “And what will we name her?"

  “Siobhan,” Occultus replied, “and her daughter she will name Rosaleen.” A small smile stretched Occultus’ lips. “And Rosaleen's daughter she will name Gezelle."

  “But what does all this mean?” Thècion asked, becoming thoroughly confused. What did children, especially girl children, have to do with fighting the evil that was coming?

  “You need not know,” Occultus returned, answering the unasked question. “All you need do is love your lady and let the gods decide the rest."

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  Chapter Two

  The captain of the Serenian Star glared at his stowaway, consigning the lad to the Pit and beyond. Never once in the prison ship's illustrious history had someone dared stowaway. Try to escape it? Aye. But hide on it? Never!

  “And just where was it you thought you were going?” Captain Mallory grated. “This ship sails to Haelstrom Point, then on to Ghurn Colony!"

  “I ain't going to Haelstrom Point,” the lad dared to say.

  Captain Mallory's left brow arched up. “Is that so? And just were do you want us to be stopping to let you off, boy?"

  There was defiance in the lad's green eyes. “You can put me ashore on Montyne Cay!"

  The crew ringed around the stowaway chuckled at the demand.

  “Montyne Cay?” Captain Mallory snorted. “That's nowhere near, stupid boy."

  “Then make a detour,” the lad commanded and once more hearty laughter exploded on the Serenian Star's teakwood decks. Old salts slapped one another on the back, cocked thumbs toward the boy, who had guts if not common sense.

  “He's a brave one, Cap'n,” the first mate remarked. “I'll give him that."

  Captain Mallory had had just about all of this nonsense as he was willing to stand. The lad had stowed away—a crime under any kingdom's maritime law—and was liable to whatever punishment he saw fit to administer to the brazen little fool. But being a man with five sons of his own in four different ports of call, he was inclined to be more lenient than most of his breed. The lad had wanted passage on a fast ship and that was what he was going to get.

  But he was going to pay for his passage.

  “Mr. Kendall?” the captain asked, looking to the first mate. “Weren't you telling me the cook's hands are acting up again?"

  “Arthur Itus is a'visiting’ him, Cap'n,” Mr. Kendall said. “Cold weather bothers Spiel something fierce."

  “And there's spuds to be peeled, aren't there?"

  The lad's nose went up in the air. “I am not doing any cooking for you men!"

  Captain Mallory frowned. That little nose of the lad's was far too delicate-looking for a boy's. He took a step closer. “How old are you?"

  Two sharp green eyes narrowed with danger. “That is none of your business!"

  “By the gods!” Captain Mallory snapped. He pointed a finger at the boy. “I'll not have disrespect shown me on this ship! Apologize this instant and answer my question or I'll turn you over to Mr. Colbret for punishment!"

  This wasn't going as planned, the stowaway thought.

  If there hadn't been a cask of pepper sitting right next to the place she'd chosen to hide, the journey could have gone off without a hitch. As it was, one ill-timed sneeze had caught the attention of the cabin boy and that was that.

  “Do you hear me, lad?” Captain Mallory roared, still waiting for his apology.

  “Go to the docks,” the voice had said. “Take the ship with the Serenian flag."

  Well, Gilly thought, she'd done that. She'd hidden in the hold, just as she'd been bid, and she had waited impatiently for the ship to set sail, to tack due South as it was suppose to.

  Except, she groaned with disbelief, she had taken the wrong gods-be-damned ship. Not only was she heading north instead of south, she had stowed away on a penal colony transport!

  “IF YOU DON'T ANSWER ME, I'LL HAVE YOUR SCRAWNY ASS KEELHAULED FROM ONE SIDE OF THE BOREAL SEA TO THE OTHER!” the captain railed.

  Gilly pursed her lips. “You'll do no such thing.” She reached up and dragged off the smelly cap she had filched from the jail. As the glory of her reddish-gold hair cascaded around her, there was a chorus of sharply-indrawn breaths.

  “Lor!” Mr. Kendall whispered. “She be a girl!"

  Captain Mallory's eyes bulged. His mouth sagged open and he stood there shocked down to the soles of his heavy winter boots. He couldn't have spoken if his very life had depended upon it. Instead, he stared at this unexpected complication to his life and knew a fear unlike any he'd ever known. This girl was gentry if he'd ever laid eyes on one!

  “Well, I'm not that much of an ogress, am I?” Gilly snapped, annoyed at the way the captain and his crew was gawking at her.

  “No, milady. You be a beauty,” the cabin boy said on a breath of air.

  At his cabin boy's worshipful tone, the captain's mouth snapped shut, then opened with: “What in the name of Alel are you doing on my ship?"

  “Well, obviously this is the wrong ship,” Gilly returned with equal fire. “I mistook your ship for the one I was intended to stowaway on!"

  “The wrong ship?” The captain shook his head violently to rid himself of the confusion. “What ship was you suppose to take?"

  “The one with the Serenian flag!” Gilly responded as though he should have known that.

  The first mate's brows drew together over his craggy nose. “We don't carry no flag, milady. Didn't you notice that? This be a prison ship for all the Seven Kingdoms."

  Gilly stamped her foot in vexation. “But,” she explained as though speaking to a fool, “she is called the Serenian Star. With a name like that, she has to be of Serenian registry, doesn't she?"

  “We be Tribunal registered,” the captain responded. He saw the delicate shudder which ran through the girl's slender body beneath its layers of clothing and knew, despite her seeming bravado, she was frightened.

  “What we gonna do with her, Cap'n?” Mr. Colbret asked.

  Gilly looked pleadingly at the captain, then tucked her lower lip between her teeth, not experienced enough to know that every man there—from cabin boy to the oldest salt—was aroused by the action.

  “Montyne Cay is way off course,” the captain blurted out. He had leeway in when his ship arrived for its rendezvous with the Borstal and the Vortex. He usually liked to get to Haelstrom Point quickly, then spend some time at a certain tavern there before going back to Boreas; but he'd always held to the belief that having a woman on board ship was not only unlucky, it was a temptation no crew could overlook.

  “It would make us two days overdue,” Mr. Kendall reminded him, sensing his captain's dilemma.

  The captain hadn't yet made up his mind to turn the ship around and head south, but when the girl stuck out her tongue and ran it over her upper lip—and every man within sight groaned at the unconscious gesture—he made up his mind. After all, he had seven daughters in three ports! He knew all about women and the harm they could do!

  “Set course for Montyne Cay immediately, Mr. Kendall!” Mallory ordered. He jabbed a finger toward Gilly. “And lock this conniving little bundle in my cabin, Mr. Colbret, and bring me back the key!"

  * * * *

  Jeremy, the captain's cabin boy brought Gilly her evening meal. The potatoes were mushy; the beef was stringy; and the green beans were underdone. Gilly barely noticed any of that for she'd had no noontime meal and was starving. She dug into the meal, giving the captain the impression that she hadn't eaten in days.

  “Why are you doing to Montyne Cay, lass?” Captain Mallory inquired as he fired up his clay pipe, drew greedily on the stem, then fanned out his Lucifer.

  “My husband will be there,” Gilly said as she jammed a hard-as-a-rock biscuit in her mouth and tried to chew it.

  Her answer stunned the captain and he drew the pipe
stem from his mouth. “You are married?"

  “Nearly a week now,” she answered, gobbling up the canned peaches that were the only decent thing on the menu.

  “And he left you to run off to Montyne Cay?” Mallory shook his head in disgust.

  “He didn't run off,” Gilly replied. She washed the unpalatable food down with the sharp ale Jeremy had poured for her, wincing at the tang as the brew hit her tongue.

  “You realize, of course, that Montyne Cay is a haven for pirates, don't you?” the captain inquired. “It's a No-Man's Land into which no government dares venture since the Outlaw declared it free territory.” He narrowed his eyes. “But that don't keep them rascals from sailing from it and plundering ships. Not that any of that lot would dare give me trouble of any kind. I've twenty guns to discourage such folly.” He sniffed with disdain at the very thought, then asked, “Is that the livelihood your husband plies?"

  Gilly glanced up from her plate, where she was sopping up the last of the meat juices from the beef with her remaining biscuit. To tell a Tribunal employee that her husband was a pirate was asking for trouble. To admit who he actually was might put Kaelan into danger.

  “Well?” the captain asked, puffing on his pipe. “Is he a pirate, lass?"

  “No,” she answered honestly. “He's a...” She tried to remember what it was Kaelan had always wanted to do. When it came to her, her eyes lit up. “He's a horse breeder!"

  Captain Mallory chewed the stem of his pipe. The lass was lying through her teeth, but what did it matter? She was a comely little thing and if he hadn't turned his ship around to take her where she wanted to go, he might have had a mutiny on his hands. “What's his name?"

  Gilly shook her head. “I'm not a fool, Captain,” she replied. “I've no desire to have the Tribunal come after him."

  A chuckle rumbled out of the captain's broad chest. “Ain't no Tribunal ship gonna dare try to make harbor at Montyne Cay ever again! Besides, they don't go after pirates, lass,” he told her. “It's political insurrectionists and murderers that the Tribunal be interested in or the occasional robber of Temple coffers."

  Gilly frowned. “Is that the kind of prisoner you're carrying?” she asked.

  “Some,” the captain admitted. He reached over and took up the glass of plum wine that was his nightly treat. He sipped slowly, appreciatively, then set the glass down again. “I've nine prisoners this time out.” He stuck up his thumb. “One was arrested for writing up pamphlets condemning the High Priest Demonicus for ‘unnatural acts'.” His index finger came up. “One was arrested for trying to kill a Temple guard.” His middle finger joined the other two. “One is an escapee from the Labyrinth, though you didn't hear that from me."

  “Why not?” Gilly asked. She'd heard all about that infamous penal colony on Tyber's Isle; her fellow Chaleans called it The Maze. It was rumored to be a place not unlike hell.

  “Because, according to the Tribunal,” the captain explained with a snort, “no one has ever escaped that hellhole.” He smiled grimly. “I don't know how they explained the three prisoners I took back there only last year."

  Gilly saw sympathy in the captain's eyes. “What happens to them when they're caught and taken back?"

  Captain Mallory looked away. “That's not a fit thing for a lass to be hearing about,” he replied.

  She thought about it for a moment. “This man you've got to take back? What did he do to be sent there in the first place?"

  The captain thought a moment, then shrugged. “I believe he made a very important person very angry."

  Gilly's brows shot up into her hair. “That's all?"

  Captain Mallory finished the rest of his wine. “That's all it takes sometimes, lass."

  “What about the other six men?” she asked.

  “First one thing and then another. Nothing all that serious, I'm thinking, but enough to warrant them being transported according to blasted Tribunal Law.” He got up and went to the brazier which warmed the cabin, opened the door of it and shook the contents of his pipe into the fire. “The Serenian Star don't usually carry the really bad prisoners. The Barracoon and the Borstal get them. Mostly what we get is political prisoners."

  “I've heard it's a long journey to the Labyrinth,” Gilly remarked.

  “So I've heard,” the captain agreed.

  “You don't go there?"

  He shook his head. “Only the Vortex goes there.” He shivered. “I'd just as soon never captain that hellship, though I've been offered the chance twice now."

  “Why not?"

  Mallory sat down and stretched out his long legs. “I'm not an evil man, lass. I'm just a sailor trying to do a job he likes best: traverse the waves and meet the occasional comely lass.” He smiled benignly. “Though I don't care to see no more of them stowed away ‘pon my ship!"

  Gilly blushed. “I can honestly tell you this lass won't do it again!"

  “I'm hoping not,” Mallory laughed.

  “Then why work for the Tribunal if you don't like their policies?” she asked, sensing there was more to this man that met the eye.

  “I've children to support though I'm not married to a single one of their mothers,” he answered bluntly. “'Tis a good living and pays well. I just try not to think long on what it is I'm carrying by way of cargo."

  Gilly leaned forward across the table. “What will they do to the prisoner that escaped Tyber's Isle, Captain Mallory? Will they hang him?"

  The captain shook his head. “They don't execute prisoners who get sent to that demonic place. The Tribunal wants them to suffer every day of their lives. Death is too kind a punishment."

  “Tell me,” she asked, needing to know though not knowing why.

  Captain Mallory looked at her a long moment, gauging her ability to assimilate the information he knew he shouldn't impart. At last, seeing the concern in her eyes, he shrugged and answered her.

  “They crucify them, lass.” He held up his hands, palms toward her. “Nail their hands to a crosspiece of wood and leave them there in the blistering sun until the Commandant is satisfied they won't try to escape ever again."

  Gilly felt a tremor go down her body at the thought of something so inhumane happening. “And has that deterred anyone from doing it again?"

  Captain shook his head. “I don't know, lass, but it would sure as hell deter me!"

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  Chapter Three

  Kaelan felt the hands on him and opened his eyes. He didn't know the tall man bending over him. There was something very bizarre in the way the man's dark eyes were assessing him. “Where am I?” he managed to croak.

  The tall man didn't answer. His cool hands continued to roam over Kaelan's naked chest, down his hip and onto his left thigh.

  “Don't,” Kaelan protested, feeling uneasy at the intimate way those long fingers stroked his bare flesh.

  “Lie still,” the tall man ordered.

  Nausea rose up in Kaelan's throat as the tall man slipped both of his hands around the top of Kaelan's crippled leg and began to deeply kneed the muscle all the way down to his knee, then back up again, the backs of the man's right hand grazing Kaelan's testicles.

  “DON'T!” Kaelan shrieked, trying to pull away. He became aware for the first time that his wrists and ankles were tied to the bunk on which he lay. Panic sent his heart into spasms of terror and he opened his mouth to scream out when a hand was slapped firmly across his mouth.

  “Be quiet!” the tall man snapped.

  Kaelan squirmed beneath the constriction over his mouth. He stared wide-eyed up at his tormentor, bile flooding his mouth.

  “Do you wish to go through your entire life crippled, Hesar?” the man hissed at him, bending down to put his thin face close to Kaelan's. “If so, I will let you do it!” His hold relaxed enough to allow Kaelan to pull his face free of the man's grip.

  “Don't put your hands on me again!” the young prince snarled, his lips skinned back from his teeth.

 
“How am I to heal you otherwise, fool?” Occultus grated.

  “Touch me again and I will...."

  “What?” Occultus sneered. He reached up to tug at the rag which confined Kaelan's left wrist. “What will you do? What can you do? Curse at me? Go ahead!"

  “Don't you touch me again!” Kaelan repeated, fury blazing.

  “I am trying to help you!” Occultus spat.

  “Aye, I've heard of your kind of help, priest!” Kaelan threw at him. He pulled against his constraints. “Untie me!"

  With deliberate intent, Occultus slid his hand from the rag he had been gripping, down the length of Kaelan's arm, down his side, his hip, then across the young man's belly where he spread his long fingers and wrapped them around a portion of Kaelan's anatomy that made the young man yelp with indignation.

  “I can,” Occultus said, putting his lips to Kaelan's ear, “do whatever I wish to you, Hesar.” His fingers tightened and began to kneed.

  “Oh, god!” Kaelan gasped, choking on the bile in his mouth. He tore his face away from Occultus’ and gagged. The thought of this pervert molesting him filled him with pure terror.

  “If that were my intent,” Occultus said in a gentle voice, “I would have done it as you lay unconscious, as is the bent of most of the Brotherhood."

  At the mention of that devilish sect, Kaelan's face snapped back around and he stared up with total shock at the tall man whose hand had heresy, but it was the Brotherhood who ordered that arrest.

  Pure fear drove right through Kaelan. “Why?” he asked.

  “Because there are those who, although they do not know why they should fear you, do,” Occultus answered.

  “Me?” Kaelan asked. “Why should they fear me?"

  “Because you have been blessed by the gods, Kaelan Hesar."

  Kaelan flinched as the man leaned over him, not sure of what this stranger would do next. When he felt the cool fingers on his wrists, untying him, he relaxed as much as he could.

  “I was trying to mend the bones in your thigh, Kaelan,” Occultus said when he untied the other wrist, “though I would not mind tasting the pleasures I am sure you could give me."