Leviathan (Lost Civilizations: 2)

by Vaughn Heppner

  Adah stared earnestly at the slith. At last, she turned, and stalked off.

  “Stay near her,” Zillith told Joash. “Keep her mind off Poseidonis. Lod told me about that isle. Her time there was ghastly.”

  ***

  Adah stood behind the catapult. The Tarsh seamen had explained it to her, and let her test it. Its central feature was a heavy piece of steel, a bow lying sideways. A steel cord took the place of catgut, and a winch was needed in order to draw the steel cord back into place. In the grooved wooden slot, lay a three-foot dart, a thin piece of metal with a spike end.

  Joash had listened to the explanation, and had seen that Adah was a good shot. He waited with her as she tracked the slith.

  “It has to make a mistake, and come too close sometime,” she said.

  Joash wasn’t so sure.

  “I’m going to kill it,” Adah said, grimly.

  Joash had tried to take her mind off the slith. Nothing had worked. He’d tried to talk to her about Poseidonis. She’d remained tight-lipped, finally saying, “You love me for who I am, correct?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then don’t pry into what I can’t talk about.”

  He didn’t like to hear that, but he accepted it. He became worried when she began to gnaw her lower lip. The failed poisoning seemed to have left her bitter.

  Two hours later found them exactly as before, only her lip was worn, and a little bloody. Suddenly, Adah hissed.

  Joash had almost nodded off. He looked up. The slith flew lower.

  “Just a little more,” Adah whispered, with the catapult aimed skyward.

  The slith circled, but seemed wary of the ship.

  “He’s slipping to the left,” Joash said.

  “I can see that!” she snapped. She sighted, with her hands white with tension. Suddenly, she pulled the trigger. The steel cord snapped, and the dart hissed. It flew flat, directly for the slith. The beast gave a vent of rage, and tried to climb. The dart dipped toward the sea, and missed, flying ten yards underneath the creature, before the dart plopped into the water.

  Adah madly cranked the winch, her eyes wild, her lips tight. When the steel cord clicked into place, she slotted another dart, swiveled the catapult skyward, and shot again. The slith was farther away than ever, however. The dart missed. Adah wildly cranked again.

  Joash put his hand on her arm.

  She whirled on him, her lips pulled back in a snarl.

  “It’s out of range,” he said.

  For a moment longer, Adah strained against his hold, and then tears welled in her eyes. She wiped them savagely. “I have to kill it!” she said.

  Joash stared up at the slith. A plan was beginning to form in his mind. But, there was no way he’d tell Adah. If there were any danger, he would risk it rather than risking the woman he loved.

  “Stay at your station,” he said. “I’ll get you something to eat.”

  Adah nodded. More slowly than before, she readied the steel bow. Once more, she kept her eyes fixed on the circling slith.

  ***

  Joash explained his plan to Herrek. The Giant-Slayer studied the airborne slith for a time and then gazed shrewdly at Joash.

  “There are flaws,” Herrek said.

  “Granted,” Joash said, “but the pterodactyl still needs killing. Otherwise, as Captain Maharbal and Lord Uriah have said, pirate galleys will soon appear on the horizon.”

  “We should tell Lord Uriah your plan.”

  Joash shook his head.

  “He might point out improvements,” Herrek said.

  “He’ll also discuss it with the others. I don’t want Adah trying it.”

  “Lord Uriah won’t let her,” Herrek said.

  Joash snorted. “I don’t think Lord Uriah could stop her if she gets it in her head to try. Oh, he might tie her up, but that’s the only way. I’ve watched her. She hates the giant pterodactyl, and means to kill it herself.”

  Herrek nodded slowly. “You have feelings for her.”

  “I think everybody knows that by now.”

  “Amery knows it,” Herrek said.

  “Huh?” Joash asked.

  “Never mind,” Herrek said. He rubbed his chin. “What about sharks?”

  Joash shrugged.

  “Or, what if you miss?” Herrek asked. “You’ll only have one shot. The slith might destroy you.”

  “It would have to use its claws, and I don’t think it would risk that. I have the feeling that if the pterodactyl lands in the water, it will never get out.”

  Herrek studied the soaring creature, the eyes of their enemies.

  “We need to destroy it,” Joash said. “This is a possible method.”

  “I should take your place.”

  Joash shook his head. “You’re too big. I’m almost too big.”

  “Adah is even smaller.”

  “No!” Joash said. “I won’t have Adah risking the open ocean.”

  “Do you think I wish you to risk it?”

  “I’m a groom, training to become a warrior.”

  Herrek inspected one of his wrist-straps. He seemed deep in thought.

  “You must let me try,” Joash pleaded.

  A wry smile tugged Herrek’s lips. “I wished to track Tarag, but Lord Uriah wouldn’t allow it.” Herrek snorted softly. “I’ll let a warrior try, at least. You say you’re game. Yes, I’ll help you.”

  Joash proceeded to tell Herrek his list of needs. When he was done, he said, “At dawn tomorrow will be the best time.”

  “Then, let us prepare,” Herrek said.

  ***

  Joash shivered as dawn approached, with the sea a vast, gray plain. His plan was a combination of Zillith and Adah’s attempts. Zillith’s poison hadn’t worked, but the use of bait had. Adah had almost hit the slith with the powerful catapult, but she had been unable to entice it near enough. Joash slid down a rope beside Herrek and Gens in one of the Tiras’s longboats. A sailor unhooked the rope, and Gens used a pole to push them from the towering ship. Soon, the two Elonites rowed while Joash steered with the tiller.

  “Is everything ready?” Herrek asked later, the oars stowed.

  Joash nodded as he stripped off his clothes, and rubbed himself with animal grease. The grease would keep him warm while he floated in the cold Suttung Sea. Hopefully, there weren’t any sharks nearby who would mistake him for a meal. Joash stared at the distant Tiras, thinking to see Adah at her station by the catapult. The low roll of waves, the endless expanse of sea, it made him feel small and lonely.

  Joash slipped into the cold waves, and Gens handed him goatskin floats stuffed with straw. Joash tied them so he wouldn’t have to tread water to stay afloat, but could relax, and concentrate on his task. Next, Gens handed him a bag of dead fish. Then he carefully draped a green cloth over Joash and the goatskins. Lastly, Gens handed Joash a crossbow. It was fashioned from a stout, short bow laid sideways, and secured by cords, to a stock of wood. In it, lay a thick metal shaft with gull feathers on one end, and a wicked iron point on the other.

  Joash recalled his days as an egg thief, when Balak had wounded a pterodactyl’s vast, leathery wing. If he could damage one wing so it crashed into the sea, Joash doubted the creature could flap well enough to leave the water.

  “Are you all set?” Herrek asked.

  “I’m ready,” Joash said, pumping his voice full of confidence. Now that he was here, he didn’t want the others to leave him all alone in the huge Suttung Sea. The thought of Adah chewing her lip until it bled as she watched the slith was enough to strengthen his determination. So he told them to hurry away.

  They left, the dwindling clunk and splash of oars vanishing in the shallow troughs of waves.

  The sea was quiet and serene, the long waves low. In the distance, sailed the Tiras, which now proceeded to haul in its sails. At the last moment, they had let Captain Maharbal in on the scheme. Already, Joash had to squint to see the longboat, which by pre-arrangement would wait halfway to the Ti
ras.

  Joash opened the bag, and began tossing silvery bait. Soon, he tucked the bag onto one of the goatskin floats. Then he ensured that the green cloth hid him from view. The giant pterodactyl would see the cloth, of course, but hopefully it wouldn’t equate it with a man. Joash knew that Huri often put on deerskin disguises, complete with horns, in order to stalk deer and other forest animals.

  The dead fish floated in the brightening sea. High above, hidden from view because of the camouflage cloth, soared the pterodactyl, the eyes of their enemies. Joash waited, growing more afraid as time went on. It was frightening, floating all alone in the vast Suttung Sea. Suddenly, one of the floating dead fish disappeared. A sea-creature had taken the bait.

  Before Joash had time to shout, he heard a steam-kettle hiss. Goosebumps rose. It was the pterodactyl, and was somewhere close above. Joash almost threw off his cloth disguise so he could shoot. No, no, he told himself. Wait for the perfect shot. The creature would only give him one chance.

  Another piece of bait was dragged under the water by a hidden sea-creature.

  Then Joash saw the monstrously huge pterodactyl glide low over the water. Its huge black beak trailed in the sea, in order to scoop the quick fish. Joash was astonished at the size of the red-crested head, and he wrinkled his nose at the creature’s reptilian odor—the smell brought horrible memories. The pterodactyl seemed evil, the long rapier-like beak, and its fin-like crest too big for its leathery body. Tiny, almost obscene claws wiggled at the top edge of its wings.

  The giant pterodactyl soared with ease, then circled, and swooped again to scoop more bait. It flew toward him, a monstrosity. It was at least sixty feet of leather and bone, and with sinister, intelligent eyes, and a long flickering red tongue.

  With shaking hands, Joash lifted the crossbow. Part of the camouflage cloth must have dropped away. The pterodactyl made its hissing, steam-kettle cry. For just an instant, it flapped those huge wings, slowing its swoop toward the water.

  Joash sighted at a sail-sized wing, and jerked the trigger. His crossbow shivered, as the heavy bolt hissed at the beast. The bolt ripped into the wing near the muscled joint, a better shot than Joash had dared believe he could make. The giant pterodactyl screamed in rage. Its narrow rapier-beak opened as wide as possible. In a half-controlled descent, it splashed into the water.

  Joash shouted in victory. Then, his eyes widened in amazement. As it floundered, the giant pterodactyl turned its blazing eyes on him. With a quick motion, it used its huge wings to propel itself toward him.

  Joash struggled to free himself from the goatskin floats. The pterodactyl hissed, and its stench was overpowering. Desperate, Joash tore his dagger free and slashed himself from the floats. Then, the pterodactyl towered over him as it tried to ram its beak through his chest. Joash twisted aside. The leathery edge of a wing struck his chin. The pterodactyl tried to curl him in, as it twisted its beak to stab again.

  Joash slashed. The pterodactyl screeched and struck harder with its wing, driving Joash underwater. As he opened his eyes, and thought to see talons, Joash flipped and kicked, diving deeper. His eyes stung, and the water became darker. He continued to kick down. Something brushed his leg. In terror, Joash turned and shot for the surface. He gasped for air. The screeching pterodactyl turned toward him. Joash saw the longboat now, but it was still too far off to help.

  The beast fixated on him. In wounded hatred, it attacked.

  Joash couldn’t dodge the beak this time. Instead, he pushed himself away from it with his open hand. As the edge of the leathery wing struck him, he clawed hold of it and pulled himself onto the wing. The pterodactyl screamed. Joash stabbed. Using his lodged knife as an anchor, he hurled himself at the red crest. It was tough-feeling, with hundreds of tiny red scales. He grabbed the crest, yanked his blade free and stabbed at the bony head. The giant reptile screeched wildly, shook him off and floundered away.

  Joash panted, treading water. The giant beast thrashed in the sea, making it foam. Joash couldn’t tear his gaze from it, horrified it might attack him again. Therefore, he was surprised later as a bow twanged. Gens stood in the longboat, with a bow in hand. The arrow hissed into the slith, followed by another in its eye. The reptilian creature finally relaxed in death as it sank out of sight.

  Soon, the longboat slid beside Joash, and Herrek dragged him into the vessel.

  “You did it!” Herrek shouted. “You’re the Slith-Killer.”

  Joash felt bad and proud. The beast had been majestic, such a wonderful flyer. Its strength had astonished him. Killing it, therefore, made him feel guilty. But he was overjoyed at being alive, and in one piece.

  Chapter Seven

  Gandvik Rock

  “Come with me to another place where you can see them; you will see only a part but not all of them. And from there, curse them for me.”

  -- Numbers 23:13

  Several hours later, Joash noticed a difference in the water. It was no longer green, but almost black. Captain Maharbal had a sailor haul up a bucket. The Captain nodded grimly after touching the water.

  “What does he feel?” Joash asked Adah.

  “I imagine colder water than before,” she said. “We’re entering the Vergelmir Deep.”

  Joash hunkered under his cloak. Zillith had enlightened him about this legendary body of water. Once, the bene elohim had raised monsters from its depths. Few ships nowadays sailed its waters. Even pirates shunned the Vergelmir Deep.

  “The root of the legends is an ancient creature called Nidhogg,” Adah said. “These waters are his home.”

  “Is Nidhogg a First Born?”

  “Lod doesn’t think so, and his knowledge of the old lore is vast,” Adah said. “Many of the legends that I’ve shared with you I’ve learned from Lod. Unfortunately, no one on our side now knows Nidhogg’s full story. Lod thinks Magog practiced foul rites with leviathan spratlings. Whether Magog impregnated the spratlings, or twisted them with necromancy, Lod doesn’t know. During the Accursed War, Nidhogg grew slowly, but never stopped growing. The bene elohim used him in several sea-battles, but the leviathans always drove Nidhogg away. The leviathans, for whatever reason, never destroyed him. After the war, men didn’t see Nidhogg, but this body of water gained an even worse reputation than it already had. Lod thinks Nidhogg waxes strong from the magic still lingering here from the past. Only the boldest, or most reckless sailors, dare to enter the Vergelmir Deep.”

  “Then why are we here?” Joash asked.

  “Because Gandvik Rock lies in the center of the Vergelmir Deep,” Adah said. “That’s why Captain Maharbal and Lod use Gandvik Rock. Not even the pirates sail these waters. Thus, the Seraphs have a safe harbor which is close to Shamgar.”

  The afternoon waned. Joash and Adah, as they sat in the forecastle, were the first to notice heavy, floating seaweed in the distance. The smell was awful, and biting flies arose from the black mass. It wasn’t until dusk approached that they plowed through the last of the black growth and into open water again.

  The sea was inky, cold and foreboding. Eerie winds moaned across the Vergelmir Deep, and it seemed they floated over a bottomless abyss. People talked less, and the grooms and runners quit their games of stones. The ship's timbers groaned, and danger seemed to lurk over every swell and past each whitecap.

  “I don’t like it here,” Joash said.

  “No one does,” Adah said.

  The sun settled into the horizon, and to Joash, it seemed like the sun had deserted them. He joined Gens and Herrek by the railing. They watched the stars rise and throw their faint light on the waters.

  “We should have joined our horses on the steppes,” Herrek said, moodily.

  Gens grunted agreement.

  “These waters were not meant to be sailed on,” Herrek said. “Even I, a landlubber, can feel the evil in this sea.”

  The night was a long one, and in the morning, a dense fog enshrouded them. The entire world had vanished. Just they survived in what seemed like co
ld sheep’s wool. By the middle of the morning, the fog burned away, and the lookout cried out. In the east, appeared a dot. The dot grew into a mountain.

  “Gandvik Rock,” Captain Maharbal shouted, although his voice lacked its former power.

  They neared the mountain. It was a huge dark spire of jagged rocks. Joash saw a ship, the twin of the Tiras, anchored at the mountain’s base. Granite arms reached around the ship, and sheltered it from the choppy sea. Compared to Gandvik Rock, the ship looked like a toy. Soon, they sailed close enough to see people running along the ship’s sides. Flags were raised, and Captain Maharbal ordered certain flags raised on the Tiras.

  The sails were reefed, and the long oars slid out. The Tiras worked its way within the granite arms, and neared its sister ship. Ragged Tarshmen from the other ship gave greetings. Their clothes were shabby, their faces gaunt and their manner subdued. Maharbal took a boat over, and conferred with the captain.

  Joash studied the mountain. It looked as bleak now as when they’d been out at sea. He saw no grass or any sort of growth, not even moss. He saw no birds, nor anything else that moved. Gandvik Rock was barren and imposing, like a monument to death and despair. He understood why the sailors on the Tiras’s twin looked as they did. Staying too long in the Vergelmir Deep must be harrowing.

  A gravel shore spread below the jagged peak. No tents were pitched there, nor did sailors walk on shore or stretch their legs there.

  Captain Maharbal returned. He ordered that fresh food and water be sent over to the Gisgo, the sister ship. Zillith, Lord Uriah and Captain Maharbal spoke on the Captain’s Deck. From the severity on Lord Uriah’s face, it seemed he didn’t like what he heard.

  “We’ve hurried to reach this,” Herrek snorted. “Incredible. We would have been better served sailing to Further Tarsh, and sending for reinforcements from home.”

  Gens nodded, his hands cupped around hot tea.

  “How will we stop Tarag from here?” Herrek asked. Disgust filled his face. “This is an evil place, one that saps the spirit of a man. Look at the sailors yonder. I pity them. We must either send help to Lod, or sail home for reinforcements. To wait here is folly piled upon folly.”