The Sword Falls

by A. J. Smith

  “By the Bright Lands!” exclaimed Captain Driftwood, dropping his spyglass.

  As the wave broke before us, a huge head appeared. It was angular and low in the water, slithering forwards as if an enormous fish had broken the surface. Behind the spiny head, the grotesque body of a Sunken Man could be seen swimming through the shallows. Unlike the others I’d encountered, this one was neither bulbous, nor flabby. Despite its great size, the creature was lithe, with slimy, translucent skin pulled taut across sinew and muscle. It also had no distinctive crest, but rather cruel-looking spikes forming a seam down its back, and along each of its limbs. I could see plainly how such a large beast could break the earth when it awoke, and its appearance had spread silence and terror across the Revenge.

  The two unidentified Eastron, and their small boat, had been thrown against the rocks as the Ravenous Whip flailed towards us. Slime and saliva formed bubbles and popped in its toothy mouth, but Captain Driftwood gave no order. The water churned, creating heavy chop and throwing a handful of sailors off their feet. Most appeared content to remain on deck, covering their eyes and hiding as best they could.

  “Heave to!” I roared, aware that no one else was going to give the order. “Heave the fuck to!”

  The blonde bosun was the first to regain her senses. She rubbed her eyes, trying not to look at the creature, and began kicking the crew into action. Kieran Greenfire followed after a moment, eschewing his normal calmness and shouting at the top of his lungs. Behind us, bells were ringing, as lookouts across the other ships spied the Ravenous Whip. Rapidly, the fleet began to deploy.

  I hurried forward of the tiller, as Halfdan’s Revenge spilled the wind from her mainsail and came sharply to port. The dead eyes of the ancient Sunken Man were placed on the sides of its angular head, but it appeared to acknowledge us. It stopped swimming, and slowly found its footing on the shallow seabed.

  Tynian Driftwood joined me on the starboard railing, facing the enormous creature. It stood, with the sea reaching just below its waist, dripping slime and water from its spiky, emaciated body. The Whip was grey-green in colour, with translucent patches across its bulging ribcage. Its full height reached halfway up our sails, and I sensed that it knew exactly who we were.

  “It’s been feeding,” said Driftwood, his eyes travelling up the immense Sunken Man. “Must have cared about its belly more than us.”

  “It’s been asleep a long time,” I agreed. “And we need to kill it.”

  “We can barely fucking look at it,” he replied, rubbing at his beard.

  The fleet was moving slowly, and the Revenge would remain the first ship in the creature’s path. The Ravenous Whip pulled its sinewy arms from the sea, and spread its webbed hands. In that moment, as I struggled to comprehend the twisted amalgamation of frog and deep-sea fish, all I could think was how arrogant I’d been to believe we could destroy the Temple of Dagon so easily. I’d wanted a victory, but I’d allowed hubris to blind me. Now, the wrath of the Sunken God had presented us with an enemy that no Sea Wolf knew how to fight.

  “Get us back onto the wind!” shouted Captain Driftwood. “All hands, best speed to the east!”

  The helm was flung to starboard, and the crew of the Revenge rallied at the sound of their captain’s voice. The mainsail fell and immediately caught the wind, propelling the ship along the coast and directly towards the Whip. She turned sharply, with the crew forced to hang onto ropes and railings.

  “So, let’s kill it,” grunted Driftwood. He turned from the Ravenous Whip and barked to the forecastle. “Drop the Fair Lady!”

  Kieran ran forward, with half a dozen crew behind him. As the ship lurched towards the Sunken Man, they grabbed hold of two heavy winches, and lowered the ram. It was serrated black steel, with backward-swept barbs, designed to skewer hulls at the waterline.

  “Signal Owl’s Bane,” ordered the captain. “Tell them to come alongside, and follow us in.”

  More sail was piled on, as the ship once again plunged towards the enormous Sunken Man. The creature tilted its angular head, and its glassy fish eyes rotated in our direction. It was hard to tell where it was looking, but it showed no concern at the Sea Wolf warship coming to pick a fight.

  “All hands ready and braced!” shouted Kieran Greenfire, as the ram locked into position with a loud, metallic clank.

  I edged along the railing, getting closer to the forecastle, as the water between us and the Sunken Man swiftly disappeared. I reached Kieran at the bow, and like every Sea Wolf aboard, began to summon my wyrd. A light-blue glow spread across the deck, and the last few moments seemed to pass in fearful silence. Ahead of us, getting closer and closer, the huge, sinewy creature loomed. It was half as wide as the Revenge, with cruel spines protruding from every angle of its grotesque body. It leant forwards, spreading its thin arms and opening its vicious mouth.

  The bow of the ship juddered, and I turned to see Captain Driftwood at the helm, making sure the Fair Lady hit her mark. As I turned back, the ram struck the Ravenous Whip, and my world was thrown forwards. Every barrel, every rope, every man and woman, and every plank of wood felt the impact. The sails, full of wind, creaked and bowed, but didn’t break.

  For a second, everything was upside down. Then I stood and saw what we’d done. The immense Sunken Man had made no sound, but its mouth, now almost above me, was stretched to the limits of its jaw, as if in shock and pain. Halfdan’s Revenge had impaled the creature, driving the serrated steel clean through its body. From its waist bubbled forth foul-smelling flesh and innards, covering the bow of the ship, and making it difficult to stand.

  “To arms!” roared Tynian Driftwood. “Stab it, cut it, tear it apart.”

  The crew, already charged with wyrd, drew cutlasses and falchions, and rushed towards the bow. They were frenzied, as if they’d been given a chance to defeat their worst nightmare.

  “Mistress Brand,” snapped Kieran Greenfire, drawing his cutlass. “You’re needed.”

  I blinked and looked up at the Ravenous Whip. It was right there in front of me, standing in the wash of the Mirralite coast, leaning over the forecastle of the Revenge, with its insides oozing onto the deck. Dark Wing said it was millions of years old, and it was the biggest creature I’d ever seen. A Sea Wolf warship, under full sail, had plunged a twenty-foot, serrated-steel ram through its waist, and it was still alive.

  I summoned my spectral arm, drew my blade, and kicked a chunk of flesh out of the way. Beside me, Kieran and a handful of the closest crew were roused quickly, and we advanced on the huge creature. Its arms flailed forwards, becoming tangled in heavy ropes and billowing foresails. It smashed at the forecastle with its monstrous webbed hands, splintering railings and crushing the deck, trailing rope and broken mast sections behind each arm. It wasn’t aiming at us, but its limbs were large enough to crush two Sea Wolves as it tried to pull itself from the ram.

  “The arms!” I shouted. “Tangle them up, or it’ll sink us.”

  I pushed wyrd through my cutlass, extending its range and slashing up at the Whip’s forearm. Others did the same, but it was moving too quickly, in and out of range, and none of us could get a clear strike. Another sailor was mangled by the flailing arms, and our minor efforts got no reaction from the creature.

  “Archers!” commanded Driftwood from the helm.

  “Hooks and rope!” shouted Kieran, ducking under a swipe that crushed the forward capstan.

  From amidships, a dozen sailors with high-tension short bows let fly. Their arrows peppered the creature’s emaciated chest, making it flap at the air, like I would swipe at a fly. It gave Kieran the chance to grab a block and tackle, and throw it to me. Other sailors on the forecastle, suddenly able to move freely without being crushed to death, picked up other tackle, and we fanned out in front of the Ravenous Whip.

  “Go for the arms!” I ordered. “Incapacitate it.”

  Hooks were launched at the creature’s limbs. Half missed the mark, to fall harmlessly next to us, bu
t a few dug into its sinewy flesh, and two securely wrapped around its huge left wrist, trailing heavy rope to the deck.

  “Heave away,” shouted Kieran, forming a line of sailors, with me at the front, pulling the ropes with all our collective wyrd.

  It reacted to us for the first time, showing irritation that a dozen terrified insects were trying to restrain it. But our strength could not be dismissed so easily. As more volleys of arrows thudded into its body, we began to pull its arm to the deck. The only noise it made was a gargled popping sound, as saliva continued to ooze from its mouth. It could no longer flail its arms, and we were forcing its head to crane lower and lower over the bow of Halfdan’s Revenge. More sailors joined us, and more hooked ropes were thrown, snaring its other arm.

  “Kill the bastard!” shouted the blonde bosun, leading a squad of axe-wielders to hack at the creature’s head.

  It could no longer move, and the water around us was churning, as its legs flapped in the shallow water.

  “More rope!” I ordered, as dozens of Sea Wolves descended upon the Ravenous Whip. It was a mighty foe, but our wyrd was strong enough to overcome it. We hooked its shoulders and head and hefted it down, until its grotesque mouth faced us on the splintered forecastle. The crew fell about its head, driving axes and cutlasses into its fibrous flesh. More grey-green innards spilled onto the deck, as the Sunken Man flexed its jaw, snapping at us.

  Then, out of the corners of two hundred sets of eyes, the rest of our fleet appeared off the port side. Not all of them, but enough to encircle the enormous Sunken Man with ballistae and fire. Closest was Owl’s Bane, with Jonas Grief at the helm. Their battering ram was less formidable than the Fair Lady, but its target was already wounded. The master-at-arms’ ship was not under full sail, and its approach was more sensible than ours had been, but it penetrated the creature’s side just as efficiently.

  The two ships bumped together at the bow, sending spray across both decks, and mingling with the splattered innards of the Sunken Man. Our ropes went slack, and the monstrous thing slumped. The two rams had cut it in two at the waist. Its eyes bulged and its torso quivered, but it was dead.

  After a moment of shared silence, I felt a desire to return to my cabin. Not because I was especially tired, but because I struggled to empathize with the shock and revulsion felt by the crew of Halfdan’s Revenge. The enormous carcass of the Ravenous Whip remained in place, with no one wanting to approach it. Through tears, clenched fists, vomit, and some shouting, two hundred Sea Wolves tried to come to terms with what they’d experienced. This crew, more than most, had seen the forces of the Sunken God up close, and though their ship was badly damaged, I judged them as skilled as any Sea Wolf crew. If I had a hundred crews like them, my mind would be calmer. But I didn’t, and thoughts of how small my pack was replaced the emotions I should have been feeling.

  The great hold of the Dark Harbour was raised by Lord Markus Eclipse, and his wife, the Lady Dolcinia. They rode from the Open Hand, in defiance of the Bloodied Harp, and brought thousands of pilgrims with them.

  Markus fell in battle, protecting his new hold, but Dolcinia endured, using great wisdom to rally her followers into an age of peace.

  The Dolcinite Pilgrims, as they became known, renounced wealth and taught humility to all Brethren who would listen. For a short time, the hold flourished under a veil of peace and tranquillity.

  But peace relies upon others, and from the ranks of the Dolcinites rose the Outrider Knights. They volunteered to leave the Dark Harbour, and became warriors by necessity, intending to protect the hold from afar.

  The last command they were given was that they must be humble and know of their sins.

  From “Peoples of the Emerald Coast” by Sovon No Moon.

  PART FIVE

  Oliver Dawn Claw on the Great Serpent

  13

  I’d arrived at the Silver Dawn expecting to become king. I’d arrived aboard an ironclad ship, surrounded by guardians and attendants. I’d waited patiently for my father to die, acting as a dutiful heir should, but then seen my world turned upside down. For all of my thirty-two years I’d known only one inevitable truth – I would one day be the Always King of the Eastron. Without this single truth, the world appeared strange, chaotic and adrift. In my youth I’d excelled at little but combat, though, despite my father’s assessment, I knew my destiny was to be a strong king. I was not power hungry or ambitious, I just understood that this was the way my world functioned. Until the world appeared to change its mind. Now nothing made sense.

  I brooded on who I was as I skulked from the Silver Dawn, with two battered attendants and three Dark Brethren. I’d not been recognized as king, and I’d witnessed the seizure of the Silver Parliament by void legionnaires.

  The nameless woman and the thick-bodied man, both Outrider Knights, led the way from the Stranger’s house, down the western wall, to a ruined section near the Great Serpent. Silver Jack and I could both walk unaided, but only slowly, and neither of us could mount any serious resistance if we were attacked. Leofryc Bright Hand, the commander of Falcon’s Watch, was travelling west only reluctantly, and clung to his greatsword like it was all he had left. I doubted any of us would care to admit it, but we were putting our complete trust in Marius Cyclone. He said the world was going to end, and that there was something I needed to see at Snake Guard. But he’d also said that I’d never be king of the Eastron.

  “Why didn’t we just go home?” muttered Jack, slumping along next to me. “We could have skulked to the harbour. Maybe hunching and not being so hugely intimidating. Oh, fuck, why did you choose me to come with you?”

  “Self-pity?” I replied.

  “What do you expect, optimism?” he quipped. “Alexis Wind Claw just killed a hundred Winterlords, including David, and seized the Silver Parliament. That is fucking insane.”

  “You normally apologize when you’re disrespectful,” I said.

  “Not to mention,” he continued, ignoring my response, “we’re reliant upon Marius-fucking-Cyclone. And we’re heading west for some reason.”

  The thick-necked Outrider Knight glanced back at us. “I believe silence is wise,” he stated, plainly. “We are approaching our exit point.”

  Jack raised an eyebrow at the man, and I could tell that he was about to reply with an insult, until I cleared my throat and stopped him. “Reliance, remember,” I muttered.

  The Outrider Knight acknowledged our exchange, and bowed his head respectfully. “It may be easier for you to cease thinking of us as Dark Brethren. And I forgive you your sins.” He turned sharply, joining Marius and the unnamed woman, moving briskly down the western wall of the hold.

  “Do you know anything about Outrider Knights?” asked Silver Jack.

  I frowned. “Little,” I replied. “They’re said to be the most loyal followers of the Stranger, but that’s it.”

  Leofryc Bright Hand, the commander of Falcon’s Watch, and the only one of us not seriously wounded, made sure he shepherded Jack and I after the Dark Brethren and that we were not left behind. He’d hardly spoken since we left the Stranger’s house, aside from complaining at our direction of travel. Now, with his sword held loosely, he covered our backs.

  “My king, this all feels wrong,” said Leofryc.

  Jack snorted. “Of course it fucking does. Look what’s happened.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” he replied. “James, what’s happened has happened. I mean travelling west with the Stranger.”

  They both looked at me as we moved slowly after the Dark Brethren. They wanted some certainty and looked to me to provide it. I pressed a hand to the scar on my side. It was sealed, though the flesh was still tender and painful. Yanos Wolf Bane had nearly killed me, and my strength would take time to return. As for my capacity to provide certainty… I was still reeling from having my birthright snatched away.

  “He said something about the end of the world,” I replied, trying to focus on the things in front of me. “And
he was sincere. So, either he’s insane, or he’s worth listening to. And we stand a better chance of survival with those three.”

  “Well they’re certainly not void legionnaires,” agreed Leofryc.

  “And they’re not actively trying to kill us,” offered Silver Jack.

  Ahead of us, past the flared base of a watchtower, the three Dark Brethren had stopped moving. We were now close to the Great Serpent and the walled southern section of the hold. The river, though wide, made little sound as it gently lapped against its stone banks.

  “Wait here, my king,” said Leofryc. “I’ll find out why we’ve stopped.”

  I frowned. “How about all three of us find out why we’ve stopped?” I replied.

  Jack and I leant on each other, and a low mound of rubble slowly came into view at the base of the wall. The hold of the Silver Dawn had never been attacked, and the broken section was the result of negligence, not war. Other sections were in poor repair, but none provided so easy an exit from the hold as this one. We’d have to clamber over fallen pieces of masonry, but nothing substantial stood in our path west.

  “Prince Oliver,” said Marius Cyclone. “Dead men ahead. Winterlords.”

  The hole in the wall was a stone’s throw from the Great Serpent, and the wide-open sluice gate through which it flowed inland. Two arches covered the river, one securing the gate, the other forming a stepped bridge, connecting north and south. There was an ornate steel fence on the bridge, decorated with skilfully cast flowers and leaves. Dark Brethren mercenaries loitered on the bridge, and hanging from the fence, secured with rope, dangling inches from the water, were five mutilated bodies. Pieces of silver armour remained, identifying them as knights of Falcon’s Watch. Two were without heads, and all had lost hands, feet or entire limbs.