The Lords of Valdeon

by C. R. Richards

The frantic pitch of the headmaster’s voice grated upon the last thread of patience Seth maintained. The growling scourge of Marianna was frightened. A frown began to work its way onto Seth’s lips. This man was a coward and a bully. Too many years had been wasted pandering to his temper. Those days of dependence upon the headmaster were over. He wouldn't fear his empty threats ever again.

  "I wanted Mother’s guitar."

  "Take it and get out. I won’t have you dawdle inside your room all day. Go help Emma with the shopping, while I earn the livelihood for this household."

  Seth grabbed the smooth handle of the guitar. It was thick with dust. He pushed past Fergus and headed toward his room. Resting the instrument upon the bed, his movements were slow and deliberate. Fury pressed at his self-control again. The strange, new power prodded impatiently, wanting to escape and take its vengeance upon the growling voice in his ear.

  Suffocating in his rage, Seth left his room and headed toward the stairs. Fergus blocked his path. Arms gesturing wildly, the headmaster's body swayed in strange patterns of color. Distorted words passed through his growling lips. Seth grabbed the handrail to keep from tumbling down the stairs. His head buzzed with power. He pushed past his uncle, desperate for fresh air.

  A hand gripped his arm. Seth tore it off his sleeve and twisted. Then he pushed the body away as if it were a lifeless lump. Fergus sprawled across the threshold of Anne's chamber, cradling his right arm. Seth stared blankly at the man. He'd pushed his uncle without thought or effort. He wasn't a killer, yet he ached to do the deed. It would be easy to make the groveling man before him submit. And why not? Hadn't he made others suffer? It would be a form of justice.

  "I'm leaving. Don't follow."

  The power intertwined with his words. Pictures hanging on the walls shook upon their nails. Plaster cracked and buckled beneath them. Seth stumbled down the stairs. He was suffocating in the living memories of this house. Reaching the door, he yanked the handle. It gave way, sending metal clanging to the floor.

  Staggering along the iron rod circling town square, he headed west toward the edge of town. People crowded the busy marketplace. He tried to weave between them, but the control he had on his body was slipping away. Great gulls! He was going to hurt someone else. This time it might be an innocent.

  Strong hands gripped Seth's shoulders, pulling him away from the path of a fast-moving wagon. Citrus and spices encircled him. Though Seth couldn't see his rescuer, he knew it was Leo. Falling against the man's body, he shook in helpless fits of rage.

  "Deep breaths, Seth. The anger will leave when you are calm again."

  Leo's words penetrated the buzzing in Seth's mind. He took a deep breath, taking in the citrus. The animal rage began to calm as if some memory brought about by the scent had sated its desire. He continued to breathe in the fragrance. The buzzing left his ears. He was in control of himself again.

  "What is happening to me?"

  Leo released his shoulders and stepped away. He was dressed in long, tan trousers with high boots and a white, billowing shirt. The sword Seth had seen the night at the pub was not on his belt. Leo looked quite ordinary in the afternoon sun.

  "The question you ask is not an easy one to answer, my young friend. We must help you control your temper. Physical activity is good for this, yes? Dante and I load our wagon with supplies we've purchased for our farm."

  He slapped a hand on Seth’s back and guided him toward the front of McTavish's store. Dante was already loading supplies onto their flatbed wagon. Two isle ponies whinnied from the front as they approached. Seth hurried to lend a hand. Leo had helped him for the second time. Loading supplies was the least he could do.

  "Dante and I have let the McPherson Farm to the west of town. Do you know it, my young friend?"

  Leo’s eyes suddenly shifted to the front of Seth's waistcoat. The necklace had worked its way from under his shirt. Glistening like a hundred stars, the heart crystal caught the sunlight and every passing glance. Seth quickly tucked it back in.

  "That’s a pretty thing, Cub. Where did you get it?" Dante waved a finger at the spot where the necklace rested beneath his clothing.

  "It belonged to my mother, sir."

  Dante nodded. He gave Leo a quick glance and then continued to load the wagon. Leo’s hands were shaking as they gripped the side of the buckboard. He'd recognized the necklace. It held some meaning for him. Seth bit at his lip. He wanted to know what relationship Leo had with his parents. What was the significance of the necklace Seth wore? Did his father suffer from the same fits of power? His nerve faltered.

  "How did you move so quickly? I mean at the pub? Did you learn how to move as you did in the army? It was almost beautiful."

  "Soon I will show you a bit more, yes?" Leo gripped his shoulder with a warm smile.

  The Valdeonian’s eyes shifted quickly toward the square where Constable McTavish escorted a drunken sailor outside the borders of town. Turning his face away from the two men, he leaned into the wagon and shifted a barrel of flour a few inches.

  "Dante and I must return to our farm. You will come to visit us soon, yes?"

  He jumped onto the driver's seat beside Dante. They pulled away without waiting for a reply. Seth stared after the intriguing man. Leo was entitled to his secrets. Heaven knew Seth had his own.

  Walking down the Main Row, he headed toward the airship port. The entrance to his private sanctuary was hidden under the frame of the docks. The letters he carried weighted down his pocket. Hope was renewed. These secret letters must contain the answers he sought. Curiosity hurried his steps off the row and into the shadows of the port. Beatrice McFadden darted out of the structure as he circled around one of the pillars. Her hand covered her mouth as she wept. Eyes blurred with tears, she almost knocked him over. He caught the girl's arm to steady her.

  "What is it? Are you hurt?"

  "Ask Riley Logan if you must know!"

  Seth pocketed the linen she refused to take from him. Stepping aside to let her go, he watched Beatrice make her lonely way back toward town. Tom Logan had been right about her crush.

  He looked toward the cliffside. Riley must be there. Welcome news indeed. He hadn't seen his best friend since the night they'd landed in trouble with the constable. Mr. Logan had kept his promise to keep Riley busy on the farm.

  A hand touched his shoulder. Staggering forward, Seth stumbled toward the ground. Riley gripped the back of his coat and pulled him upright.

  "Sorry. Is the pest gone?"

  "If you mean Beatrice, yes, she's gone and in tears."

  "Well, serves her right I'd say. Following me around, calling me names." Riley tossed a stray rock at one of the pillars. "I can't wait to leave this rat hole. And I tell you this, Seth, I won't ever come back."

  A loose board hung in the middle of the fence blocking entrance to the cliffs. He pushed it aside and shimmied through. The Sea Steps had been assembled and fastened to the rocky surface a few years after the colony was first formed. Spanning the height of the thousand-foot cliff, the steps ended upon a wharf. A lonely boathouse stood at its far end. Empty windows faced toward open sea. Seth spent many an hour inside this forgotten hideaway.

  Intended for seafaring visitors, the steps had been decommissioned shortly after they had been completed. Amity raiders had used them to reach the surface in the most brutal attack in Haven Bay's history. Many settlers had been murdered and their woolies slaughtered.

  Seth started down the steps, not stopping until they came to a large section of missing planks. The thick wooden beams used to support them extended empty toward the horizon. Beneath them, the sea raged in hungry anticipation. He placed his boot tips on the side beam anchored into the cliffside. The chain railing bolted into the cliff wall pulled taught under his grip. It smelled of rust and bird droppings. Sliding along the rock, he climbed to the next section of steps. These were intact and still strong. He landed on the first step with a thump. Riley landed beside him.

  "Why ar
e you in such a foul mood?"

  Riley shrugged and continued the downward journey to the wharf. Seth waited. Something was bothering his friend, but nothing this side of a miracle would drag it from him before he was ready to talk.

  "Dad will be glad to have me gone." Riley's voice was picked up by the constant breeze and carried over the waves. "The woolies got out again. They saw the fresh bunches of hay we bought from the McDermott farm and stampeded right over me. Dad thinks I'm useless. I’m a shame to him. Now don’t shake your head, Seth. I heard him say it. Well maybe not in those exact words, but that’s what he meant."

  Seth gave his best friend a sympathetic nod. He understood perhaps better than anyone how much a word spoken in anger could wound. Mr. Logan was a kind man. Seth had no doubt he would mend things with Riley.

  "You weren’t meant for woolie farming. We’ll find our own lives on the mainland. Come on. I have something to show you."

  Boots pounding on the boards of the wharf, they headed for the boathouse. Seth yanked open the water-warped door. The familiar odor of brine and dust washed about them. Light from the sea-facing windows cast friendly patches of sunshine upon a long table and benches. Crates of unopened paper supplies stood beside a desk in the corner, waiting for a clerk who would never come.

  Seth slid down onto one of the benches and pulled out the portrait of his parents. He handed it to Riley. His friend's eyes took in the picture for a moment and then lifted to search Seth's face.

  "Dad said your mum told him this Edmund fellow was in the army. He looks just like you."

  "There’s more." He pulled the unread letters from his coat pocket. "They’ve been written in Valic. That’s the language they speak in Valdeon."

  "Oh. Can you read it?"

  "Mother taught me." He unfolded the first letter and began to read aloud.

  My dearest Anne. We've searched for Edmund, but the regimental commander refuses to give us any information regarding his whereabouts. They’ve promised to pass along one of my letters, but I haven't received word as of yet.

  Courage, my dear friend. Edmund will come to you. He will be thrilled to find you carry his child. Do nothing rash. Your friend always, C.

  "I wonder who this 'C' is? Mother never mentioned knowing someone on Carlotta."

  "Maybe the other letters say where your real father is? Are you going to look for him?"

  Seth stared down at the feminine ink swirls stretching across the parchment. "I honestly don’t know. I can't think past finding my mother's killer."

  He searched through the other letters, but they were simply responses to his mother’s correspondence. This mysterious 'C' made reference to sketches his mother had drawn of Seth as he grew up. It was odd having a complete stranger know the intimate details of his childhood.

  The last letter was almost as interesting as the first.

  Anne. Of course you and your lovely son are welcome to come and stay with me at my cottage. It will be good to have company. I’ve been lonely since August died. Write to me and tell me when to expect your arrival.

  Seth and Riley exchanged looks. This was someone who had answers. Would she share them with Anne’s son? He tied the letters back up in the pink ribbon and put them in one of the desk drawers along with the picture of his parents. Mother had hidden them for a reason. It was best they remain hidden for now. The gargoyle coin and the vile he kept inside his waistcoat. They were his talisman.

  "Remember the night we were attacked by the Tslavian man? I went to Paddy's after Fergus and I fought. A Valdeonian warrior was there. I suspect he knew my parents."

  "Do you think this man could be your father?"

  "This man’s name is Leo."

  He pictured those intense, amber-flecked eyes as they examined Seth’s every feature under the light of Paddy’s lantern. Was Leo his kin, or did all Valdeonians share their extraordinary eyes?

  "He's a skilled warrior and faster than anything I've ever seen. Leo saved my life the night we met." Seth lifted his eyes to Riley's curious face. "He was a shadow of death moving amongst the sailors who attacked me."

  "Why do you think he's here?" Riley plopped down on the bench across from Seth.

  "He was in the square earlier loading supplies. They let the McPherson Farm, but I don't think they've come all this way to raise hay. I think he's here to help me."

  A loud splash slapped water onto the wharf. It didn't sound like the steady beat of the waves. Something had fallen into the water. Seth stood up and went to the nearest window. Wet painted the boards at the edge of the wharf, but nothing else looked amiss.

  "Could have been a seabird." Riley came to join him at the window.

  The boards a few feet outside their window splintered as something round and black dropped from the sky. It had been heavy enough to smash through the wharf and into the sea. Then the roof above their heads rained down as another object found its mark. Seth and Riley dove to the side. The object, slowed by ceiling materials, rolled along the floor until it stopped at Seth's boot. It was a cannonball.

  "What in the green, green fields is going on?" Riley stared at the cannonball as if it were a three-headed dog.

  "Trouble. I think Haven Bay may be under attack again."

  Chapter Nineteen

  Seth gulped in the briny air as they ran up the Sea Steps. The climb was a long one, even for young legs. Staying close to the rock face, they came to the missing section of steps. Jamie Newcastle stood waiting for them, thumbs stuck in his waistcoat pockets. The constant breeze from the sea tugged at his thick patch of brown hair. He smiled and waved.

  "Ho, Seth McCloud. I've got news."

  "What's happening in town? We were almost hit with cannonballs." Seth's shouts reached across the distance toward Jamie, but his urgency seemed to have no affect on the elder's son.

  "I know. I dropped them. Needed to get your attention, didn't I?" Jamie rocked on his heels as he waited for them to climb across the gap onto the platform.

  "You dropped them?" Riley lifted his fists. "The last one almost killed us, you half-wit!"

  "Well there's the thanks I get for bringing good news. You've got visitors, Seth. Your mother's solicitors have come to give you an inheritance." Jamie poked Seth in the chest. "And here all this time I thought your family was poor. They gave me twenty credits to find you."

  "My mother wore the same winter scarf I gave her for well over five years. Trust me. She had no inheritance money to leave me."

  A bullet struck by Seth's boot. He and Riley pressed against the rock face, pulling Jamie with them. The shot had come from the airship port dock hanging above them. Another rang out, striking near the first. If they tried to go through the fence into the row, they'd be easy targets. Their only alternative was down.

  "I hope you got your twenty credits in advance, Newstuffle," Riley grumbled and spat over the side of the platform.

  "I don't understand." Jamie stared up at the docks. "Expensive clothes and nice manners. They seemed on the up and up to me."

  "Come on. We're in for another climb." Seth pulled on Jamie's arm.

  "Down again? There will be no escape off the wharf. What if they decide to beat us to death with cannonballs?" Riley stepped in front of Seth to block his path. "We have to get help."

  "We'll be dead if we take one step through the opening."

  Seth hurried across the beam, clinging to the rock face. If they stayed close to the cliff side, the shooter would have less of a target. He eased a boot onto the first step past the gap and moved down, so Riley could join him.

  "Hurry on, old grandmum!" Riley called over his shoulder to Jamie.

  The elder's son had one foot on the beam. The other was mounted like a stump upon the platform. He wasn't moving. None of the other Marianna boys were keen to try the climb to the wharf. Seth and Riley were the only ones who had actually made it past the gap.

  Another shot struck the wood upon the platform by Jamie's foot. He yelped and pushed his body forward o
ut onto the beam. Apparently Jamie had decided the threat of a bullet was more frightening than the thousand-foot drop down a rock cliff. Beads of sweat rolled down his pudgy face, matting dull brown hair against pale skin. Sheer terror shown in his eyes.

  "Easy, Jamie." Seth switched places with Riley and extended his hand to the frightened boy. "Take it slow. Don't look down."

  "Great gulls. If he moves any slower, we won't make the wharf until sundown." Riley leaned over Seth's shoulder. "Hurry on! You're almost done."

  Jamie gave Riley a sour frown and shuffled a bit faster until he was within arm's reach of Seth. Batting away their hands, he made ready to jump onto the first step. A sudden sensation of unease rippled along the back of Seth's neck as he watched the elder's son. His eyes were drawn to the step his own foot rested upon. Odd. It was vibrating upon the breeze.

  "Jamie, wait! Don't!"

  He pushed Seth's hands away and leapt onto the step with a triumphant smirk. Wood cracked and split. Jamie fell toward the ocean waves as the step — which had held Seth and Riley’s weight for years — snapped into pieces. Then Jamie was gone, leaving a panicked silence behind him.

  "Help!" A voice came from below them.

  Staying close to the rock face, they looked cautiously into the gap. Jamie was dangling from the side of the cliff twenty feet below them. Bruised and bloodied knuckles held an ancient tree root in their panicked grip. The wind caught his coat, twisting the top of Jamie's body a bit further out into the gap. He stamped the toe of his boots upon a tiny ledge to restore his balance. Jamie was a stranger to exercise. He wouldn't be able to hold on for much longer.

  "I’m coming for you! Hold on tight and don’t look down."

  "Seth!" Riley pulled at his arm. "You can’t climb down the rock face. You’ll be killed!"

  "I saw a rope at the top of the stairs beside the opening. It should be long enough to reach him. Go, Riley. Hurry!"

  Riley slid across the beam in cautious movements. Troubled blue eyes cast a last look down at Jamie. Then he sprinted up the stairs. Seth's stomach tightened as the stomping of his work boots on wood faded. Jamie's frightened eyes found Seth. In the brief moment of contact, a horrible truth passed between them. Riley wouldn’t make it back with the rope in time.