Arkship Obsidian (The Arkship Saga Book 1)

by Niel Bushnell

  CHANGE

  Wynn pulled at the collar of his jacket. It was rigid and formal, the material itching his skin. He wanted to take it off, to throw away this stupid uniform and return to his dirty overalls, to find Bara and escape on Lexica. He looked out of the windows, to the stars, and felt lost.

  He’d been on board the Caerleon for three weeks, and was gradually acclimatizing to his new role and position, but it had not been easy.

  He turned his back on the view and took in the splendor of the Grand Hall. It was a vaulted space, with stone columns that were covered in intricate carvings that told the story of the Kenric family all the way back to the time of the Fracture. In between the columns were vast tapestries that added slices of color to the cream stone. The floor was made of polished tiles, laid in a precise interlocking pattern that led the eye from the far end to the raised podium and the impressive windows.

  At the entrance to the hall stood Gofal, waiting steadfastly. Wynn smiled at the sight of his old friend and companion, his shattered arm repaired. They had been inseparable since he was a young boy, and it seemed odd now to recall his fear at the sight of those glowing blue eyes after the fall of the Obsidian.

  So much had changed.

  The huge doors opened and he saw a distant figure enter the hall. Recognizing the visitor, Wynn ran to greet her.

  ‘Bara,’ he laughed as they embraced. ‘I’ve missed you.’

  She smiled, her eyes glancing away. ‘It’s not easy to get an audience with the prince.’

  Wynn sighed, feeling awkward. ‘I’m the same person, really.’

  ‘No, you’re not,’ Bara said with a regretful look. ‘I’m not even sure what I should call you any more.’

  ‘I’m still Wynn,’ he replied. ‘It’s from my middle name, Aldwyn. It was my nickname when I was growing up. A few friends still use it.’

  ‘Prince Halstead Aldwyn Kenric,’ Bara said slowly, as if she was trying to remember it properly. ‘I’m not sure I should use a nickname.’ She was teasing, he was sure, but it still gnawed at him. Wynn shook his head dismissively and walked back towards the grand windows that stretched from the shining floor to the ornate ceiling. ‘I’m the same person you knew.’

  Bara walked with him, taking in the view outside. ‘But you have duties now, responsibilities. You have a people to lead.’

  ‘I’m not a leader.’

  Bara smiled, comforting him. ‘Well, you’re all they’ve got.’

  A pang of grief took him by surprise. He remembered the father he now knew was dead. He had been stern, cold and remote, a difficult man to get close to. But he had been Wynn’s father, and he had died on the Obsidian. Now, whether he liked it or not, the heavy mantle of leadership fell on Wynn’s young shoulders.

  ‘Hey,’ Bara said, looking him deep in his eyes. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Wynn lied. If he said it often enough he could make it true. Outside he saw other ships; cargo carriers, merchant vessels, gas scoops, wind feeders, argo farms, a few fighters and military craft. All were refugees from the other Kenric arkships that had been taken by Draig. Only the Caerleon remained under the Kenric flag now.

  ‘How are the repairs coming along?’ Wynn asked, wanting to shift the attention away from him.

  ‘Almost done, thanks. Lex is complaining I’m not doing it right, but he always does,’ Bara said breezily. She hesitated, then added, ‘Actually, I was finished two days ago.’

  ‘Then you’re all set to go.’

  She looked at him, her face full of remorse. ‘Go? Where have I left to go?’

  Wynn felt a fool. ‘Sorry. This is your home now.’

  ‘Is it?’ she asked.

  ‘It can be, yes.’

  She stared at him, her eyes seemed to be taking him apart. ‘You’re different,’ she said.

  ‘The surgery?’ His facial scars were almost healed now, and his hair had been regenerated. Already the dark roots had covered his head in a short, unruly mane.

  ‘No,’ Bara said, ‘it’s not that. It’s you.’ She put her hand on his chest. ‘You’re different inside.’

  ‘I’m still me!’ he insisted.

  She laughed. ‘It’s not a bad thing, Wynn. You’re just more . . . worldly.’

  He rolled his eyes and grinned, uncertain what she meant.

  The doors to the hall opened again and a swarm of people entered. Gofal spoke to them, then marched along the length of the space to join Wynn and Bara. He stood patiently, his frame towering over them. ‘Wynn, it’s time,’ he said quietly. ‘The hall must be made ready.’

  Wynn nodded, remembering. ‘Right, of course.’

  Bara glanced between them. ‘Time for what?’

  ‘The naming ceremony,’ Gofal replied.

  REUNION

  ‘You are a hard man to find,’ the Lord Chamberlain Cam Tanis said with a knowing smile.

  Derward Tarkkail did not look up from his work. He continued to stack the cargo crates on the edge of the hanger bay, hoping the visitor might decide to leave him alone.

  Tanis, however, persisted. ‘If I was easily offended I might think you were avoiding me.’

  ‘Me? Avoiding you, Tanis. Never,’ Derward replied.

  ‘Do you have nothing to say to me?’

  Derward put down the crate he was carrying and approached the Lord Chamberlain, looking about him to see who was nearby. ‘What do you want me to say?’

  Tanis shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Maybe, just a hello to an old friend.’

  ‘Hello, old friend,’ Derward said with a fixed smile. He picked up the crate again and placed it with the others.

  ‘You know, we could do this in an interrogation room,’ Tanis noted. ‘But it doesn’t have to be so . . . formal, does it?’

  Derward sighed, his shoulders dropping as he turned back to face him. ‘Okay. Ask away, Tanis.’

  ‘Let’s start with an explanation. You are no longer a Reader?’

  Derward glanced about the hanger bay. It was a huge space, full of noise and activity as ships moved through the bay to deposit their cargo, but this section was empty, except for Derward and Tanis. Had the Lord Chamberlain made sure of that? Derward wondered. ‘I’m a simple trader, Tanis. A merchant. Always have been.’

  Tanis smiled tolerantly. ‘Yes, your records concur. Never a Reader. But computer files can be changed . . . memories are harder to adjust. And I remember you, Reader Derward.’

  ‘Don’t call me that,’ Derward hissed. ‘That was another life. I’m a trader now.’

  ‘Yes, of course: a simple trader, keeping his head down, not attracting attention. But you’re more than that, Derward, even now. You’re a trader with links to the Church, perhaps? A man with your skills – your experience – could not fully close that door. The Church would never let you go, not completely.’ Tanis stepped closer. ‘Truthfully, I do not care what caused your demise, but it is good to see you again. I have often wondered what happened to you. I thought you were probably dead.’

  ‘That life is dead.’

  ‘Very well,’ Tanis sighed. ‘I will not attempt to resurrect it. But I think you and I can still be of use to each other.’

  Derward stared at him. The man he remembered was slimmer, his stubble not so silvery, his eyes less tired, but had his character changed in the intervening years? Tanis was a man to be trusted, back then. Was he still?

  ‘Use to each other? How so?’

  Tanis sat on one of the crates and undid his tunic at the collar. ‘The House of Kenric is in crisis. Derward, we are on the brink of extinction, as I’m sure you know. Every single arkship has fallen to the House of Draig. They have overwhelmed our defenses, and with every defeat Orcades Draig grows stronger. Every arkship lost becomes part of his fleet. This is the last Kenric arkship, old friend.’

  ‘I know that, Tanis, but what can I do about it?’

  ‘We need allies,’ the Lord Chamberlain explained, his tired eyes pleading with Derward. ‘The other houses stan
d by and watch, hoping that Draig’s ambition will stop at the doorstep of Kenric. We have no one we can turn to for support. But, perhaps, the Church might be able to swing the balance of power back in our favor.’

  ‘Then speak to your Reader,’ Derward suggested angrily.

  ‘I already have,’ Tanis sighed. ‘She is a traditionalist. She will not interfere, she won’t even pass on my request for a dialogue with the Scribe. I need someone who still has ties to the higher levels, someone who can relay a message to them.’

  Derward shook his head, feeling trapped. ‘Why should I help you?’

  ‘Because you’re a good man, Derward. You try to hide it. You pretend not to care. But if you do nothing here today, then the Caerleon will fall and thousands of people will die. Draig will grow in power and, eventually, even simple traders will be affected.’

  Derward cursed under his breath, feeling himself being drawn back into events. ‘Even if I could, what makes you think the Scribe would listen to me?’

  ‘You and the Scribe were . . . close, if I recall.’

  ‘Your memory is flawed,’ Derward seethed, his anger growing in spite of his best efforts to tame it.

  The Lord Chamberlain stepped closer, his eyes narrow. ‘Damn it, Derward! You are the only one who can stop this.’

  ‘You give me too much credit.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Tanis said as he grasped Derward’s shoulder. ‘I remember you, Derward, and I know what you’re capable of.’

  NAMING

  When the vast doors opened for Wynn to enter the Grand Hall, the space was unrecognizable from his last visit with Bara just a few hours earlier. The once-empty floor was now filled with seated spectators, who rose at the sound of his approach, their heads turning in unison. Bara sat on the front row, her seat reserved for her by Wynn. She watched her friend approaching, noticing how much taller he appeared now, how much older. The pristine royal tunic suited him, she noted with a smile.

  Wynn followed the Lord Chamberlain towards the raised podium, the congregation staring at him with a sense of awe and wonder. His eyes caught Bara’s. Blood flushed his cheeks and he managed a brief smile before he climbed the steps and stood alongside Tanis. Bara realized she was grinning at him, her heart pounding in her chest as she was drawn into the emotion coming from the crowd about her.

  The audience returned to their seats, Bara too, and an expectant hush filled the air.

  ‘Welcome,’ Tanis began, speaking at the dais. ‘We gather here today, at a turning point in our history. We have suffered much, we have lost friends . . . family. Our collective future – the days ahead we had planned and hoped for – have been ripped from us, by the brutal hand of our enemy.’ Tanis paused, letting his words echo around the chamber, the audience hanging on his every breath.

  As he spoke Bara couldn’t help but picture her own family, lost in the destruction of Melchior, and she was overcome with emotion. She lowered her head, closing her eyes as she composed herself.

  ‘That future we hoped for is gone, ‘Tanis continued. ‘But those dreams are not dead. In the past few weeks we have suffered as one, we have all lost a part of our family. But we are Kenric, and we endure.’

  A ripple of agreement cascaded through the audience.

  ‘And today, I stand here, your Lord Chamberlain, your Regent, your servant, humbled by the strength and bravery you have displayed in the face of such adversity. For we are Kenric, and we endure.’

  Some of the crowd, including a woman sat beside Bara, repeated his last sentence, a faint muttering of solidarity.

  ‘We have been through the darkest of nights . . . together, suffering, hoping and praying for the light of tomorrow. But, by the blessing of the Infinite Gods, our prayers have been answered, and a new light shines on our House.’

  The congregation grew more and more animated as a ripple of excitement flowed between them.

  ‘Today, I stand before you, my Kenric brothers and sisters, and my heart is filled with hope once more.’ The Lord Chamberlain’s voice grew to be heard over the crowd. ‘We are not defeated, we are not broken, we are not leaderless. For we are Kenric, and we endure!’

  The chant grew until every soul in the room cried out the Lord Chamberlain’s sentence: ‘We are Kenric, and we endure.’ Bara joined them, her heart lifted by the audience’s shared emotion. She no longer felt outside, a stranger without a home. In that moment, she was one with the crowd. She was Kenric.

  Over and over again, the phrase rung out, getting louder, until the Lord Chamberlain raised his hand and the room became silent once more.

  ‘My friends, my kinsmen,’ Tanis said quietly, ‘our prayers have been answered. Our Prince has been returned to us!’

  A deafening cheer erupted, and Bara felt her neck tingle with the energy in the room. She glanced at Wynn and realized his eyes were on her. He looked nervous, uncomfortable in front of this mass of people, but she smiled at him and his features softened, reassured by her attention.

  ‘My people, it is my greatest honor to present to you that which we feared we had lost forever: the heir to the House of Kenric, our beloved leader, Prince Halstead.’

  The audience rose as one, cheering and clapping as Tanis stepped down from the podium and gestured for Wynn to take his place. The rapture lasted over a minute. Bara, swept along in the moment, felt she was watching a god rather than her friend. This wasn’t Wynn, this was a prince with his face. It was as if everything was changing.

  Wynn – Prince Halstead – stood in front of the crowd, looking uneasy in the glare of their attention. He waited for their excitement to lessen, smiling patiently. Eventually the cheering and applause ended and the crowd took to their seats again, their eyes watching him, waiting to hear him speak. Bara realized she was clutching her hands together, willing him on.

  Wynn took a breath, his fingers gripping the podium as he smiled nervously. Bara had helped him to memorize the speech he was required to deliver, but now that he stood before those expectant faces he appeared to have forgotten what he had to say.

  ‘My friends,’ he began, ‘it is good to be back with you.’

  This wasn’t his rehearsed speech, but the audience cheered and applauded, unaware of Wynn’s change of plan. Even so, Wynn smiled with relief, and Bara felt her own nerves ease. He continued, his voice finding strength. ‘I must thank my Lord Chamberlain for leading you during this difficult time. His loyalty and guidance have ensured the survival of the House of Kenric against extreme adversity and opposition.’

  A swell of respectful applause brought the Lord Chamberlain to his feet. He bowed politely, his eyes glassy, then he returned to his seat.

  ‘It was not my desire to lead you, not yet,’ Wynn continued as the crowd became silent. ‘My term as your prince lay in the distant future. But my father, Prince Thyred Halstead Kenric the third, is dead, and his duties now fall upon my shoulders. I confess, I am not ready, and I will need your support to see me through the coming trials.’

  Once more the audience responded with warmth and applause.

  ‘Only together – you and I – can we prevail. There are dangers ahead, and I will need each and every one of you to guide my hand.’

  The cheering seemed to grow with every new sentence. This was better than the planned speech, Bara thought to herself. He was a natural speaker.

  ‘And in return,’ Wynn continued, ‘I will carry out my duties as your prince with every fiber of my body. I will not waiver, I will not rest until the House of Kenric, our people, our arkships, our legacy is restored.’

  The audience stood, and Bara joined them, chanting ‘Kenric’ until the Lord Chamberlain returned to the podium.

  ‘The Ark Royal Obsidian has been the home of the royal household since the time of the Fracture,’ Lord Chamberlain Tanis explained. ‘The Obsidian is no more. We mourn its loss, we honor those who died, but the royal House of Kenric endures. So, from this day onwards the arkship Caerleon will be known as the Ark Royal Cae
rleon, the flagship of the House of Kenric.’

  Once more the audience erupted as the royal crest was revealed behind the podium. Bara felt the pride amongst Wynn’s people. They had someone to lead them again, someone to rally round, and their future was not so bleak any more.

  As Wynn and Tanis waved to the crowd the applause died away, leaving an odd silence in its wake. At first Bara could not understand what had brought about the change, but then her eyes fell on the giant windows, and she gasped. Wynn and Tanis sensed it too, turning to look behind them at the ominous scene outside.

  The dark shape of another arkship had appeared, bearing down on the Ark Royal Caerleon. Bara stared in disbelief at the vessel. Its form was hidden in shadow, but it had two distinctive red lights that suggested a pair of malevolent eyes, and Bara realized with despair that she had seen this arkship before.

  AN AUDIENCE

  Derward Tarkkail paced the antechamber floor, wishing he had kept his promise to himself. He had sworn he’d never return here, and it was a vow he’d managed to keep for more than fifteen years. Now, as he waited for an audience with the Scribe his regret grew. He wished that he was stronger, that he could turn his back on the Church and get on with his life. No regrets. But he knew he could never fully walk away.

  A resonant tone caught his ear, and Derward turned to see the doors to the Scribe’s library slide apart. An aide strode purposefully through the opening and, with a wave of his arm, he said, ‘The Scribe will see you now.’

  Derward braced himself, feeling the tingle of anticipation deep within him, and stepped towards the darkened chamber. The doors slid shut behind him, and Derward felt the temperature difference in the air, crisp against his skin.

  The library stretched out in front of him, an avenue of polished stone floor bordered by walls lined with books up to the distant ceiling. This room contained the largest collection of pre-Fracture books in the entire Cluster. Derward scanned the spines as he walked the length of the library, seeing if he could spot any titles he had studied during his time here, and he realized he was smiling. Did he miss those days? he wondered.