A Voice That Thunders (Voice that Thunders #1)

by Cully Mack

  Sojin hollered from the crow’s nest. ‘Ships.’

  He squinted at the dark shadow rowing out of the mist. ‘How many?’

  ‘One, oh hang on there’s two. They’re making right for us.’

  ‘Stay there until ya see their colours, then get ya ass back here.’

  Ammo never liked the waiting. The lull between victory or defeat felt never-ending. By the speed they sliced through the swell, ally or enemy, he estimated, they’d be on them by midday.

  His galleys diverted into a phalanx formation, their ramrods hidden under the waters. Their turning brought the tide against them causing a strong current to drag against the galleys’ hulls. The oarsmen’s straining faces revealed how much they fought against it.

  ‘They’re dark blue,’ Sojin shouted.

  He could tell by Eran’s paling complexion he knew and so did Ammo. The ships belonged to Shemyaza.

  When his boots hit the deck, Ammo said to Sojin, ‘Get below and take Eran with ya.’

  Sojin hesitated.

  ‘Now! There ain’t nothing ya can do, stay with Abela,’ he ordered. He licked his finger and held it to the surging wind. ‘Pull down the sails,’ he yelled at his crew, ‘and bring me to the right of our galleys.’

  From there he’d gain a better view of the action. The thud boomed first and then the sound of cracking wood. His lead galley rose from the sea amidst a plume of water and split in half. The galley crew flew from the deck into the ocean.

  Ammo cursed loud and ferocious. He sprinted to the side of his ship and saw a flash of red dip below the waves. The ocean rippled in its wake and he tracked its movements.

  A scaly, flat head, shaped like an anvil breached the surface, its gnashing jaws snapping around a struggling man. Its eely body coiled and crushed his bones before dragging him under the sea.

  Ammo, still reeling, heard Bina snap, ‘I can’t do anything from here.’

  She strutted over to an oarsman, grabbed a spear laid near his feet and climbed onto the side of Ammo’s ship.

  ‘What are ya doing? Ya think ya can spear that beast from here?’

  ‘No,’ she replied, and lifted off from the ship, black tipped, grey wings spreading wide.

  ‘Darn,’ he muttered to himself.

  Another of his galleys splintered in half. One of Shemyaza’s ships headed straight towards them. The other veering right.

  Bina circled above and then she dove. A shrill cry reverberated across the ocean and a gush of musty, yellow liquid spread over the waters as she jammed the spear into whatever lurked beneath before ascending again.

  She flew towards Ammo at great speed and descended in the sea’s direction. He leaned over the side and watched her drive the spear into the serpent. She dragged the spear along its flesh. The serpent’s back split wide open, revealing black chunks of vertebrae along its spine.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ she said, and then shot into the air.

  Ammo heard whizzing and looked up to see fireballs and ice shards flying overhead.

  ‘Shields,’ he yelled.

  Several of his galleys erupted into flames. If his men escaped into the water, they’d be fated against the serpents circling below. How many he couldn’t guess. Smoke billowed from the galleys, along with the scent of men’s burning flesh.

  ‘If ya want to live, ram that ship,’ his voice bellowed over the commotion.

  If they heard him, he couldn’t tell although the galleys surged on through the swell. His men fired a volley of arrows which burst into flames mid air. The thought of Fire Wielders out on the open sea sent him livid.

  He spat out windswept ash. ‘Hold fire on ya arrows.’

  Bina returned to his side. ‘I’ve taken out two. The last one fled but at least I’ve slowed it down.’

  ‘How are we gonna stop their Wielders? They’re cutting through my galleys faster than it will take to reach em.’ He rubbed the green gem on his finger.

  ‘There are no Chashmalim on their ships,’ Bina reassured him.

  He shot passed her and vaulted onto the bow.

  A red-haired giant standing on the ship veering right glared at him. Dismissing him soon after, his burning amber eyes scanned over Wind Weaver, searching. Beside him, a woman with braided henna coloured hair wielded fire in her hands but didn’t attack.

  ‘They’re not here, leave them,’ the giant ordered his crew.

  The woman stroked the flames and smirked at Ammo. He felt the pull of the challenge. If she hadn’t been his enemy, he’d have grinned and given her a cocky wink. The giant and his ship veered away, leaving Shemyaza’s other ship to continue its attack.

  An ice spear slammed into the bow, shattering, sending ice everywhere.

  ‘I’ve had enough of this,’ he said, picking up an ice shard and popping it in his mouth. ‘Get me closer.’

  The oarsmen rowing the galley nearest to Shemyaza’s ship doubled over gasping for air.

  Bina raised her arms and shouted, ‘Gadah.’ She turned to Ammo, ‘Hurry, I can’t hold them forever.’

  One of Ammo’s galleys rammed into the side of Shemyaza’s remaining ship. Its bronze rod smashing into its hull. A huge bubble of air resisted the surging water but not for long.

  ‘Move,’ Ammo yelled.

  Dagger in hand, he ran and hurdled from one galley to the next until reaching the galley with its ramrod still thrust through Shemyaza’s ship.

  He unsheathed his sword as men rushed forward with him ready to assault Shemyaza’s Wielders, guards and crew.

  With Bina suppressing their powers, it was a fair fight.

  Ammo plunged his dagger into the first Wielder, her warm blood gushing over his wrist. He swung his sword through the next spraying blood over his silk shirt.

  Between the bawling and bellowing, blades clashed, clinking steal against steal. Blood spray lubricated the ship’s deck in its oily life force. He swallowed, forcing the salty tang from his throat.

  Swords, daggers and deep blue cloaks became a blur. A pear-shaped mace whirled at his head. He ducked, pivoted and thrust his blade into the man’s ribs. His dagger jarred against bone. The man died before his body thumped onto the deck. His eyes wide, his death stare leading him to the world beyond.

  When the fighting ceased around twenty guards and several Wielders surrendered.

  ‘Take their amulets,’ Ammo ordered one of his men.

  The Wielders dropped a variety of jewels into a sack.

  Shemyaza’s ship listed, taking on water. The bow submerged, waves gushing up the deck.

  ‘Abandon ship,’ he hollered.

  On reaching Wind Weaver, he flicked his head, spraying off excess water and checked his arm. The gash was long but not deep. He hadn’t known of it until he’d dived into the salty sea and swam. It stung but not as much as his split lip.

  Bina threw him a towel, and he rubbed the remaining moisture from his hair. Black blood clung to her tunic reminding him of bog mud and a slight sheen embraced her brow.

  ‘Never seen ya sweat before,’ he teased.

  She stumbled forward.

  On instinct, he outstretched his hand but the resistance in her eyes made him stop. ‘Are ya all right?’

  ‘What about them?’ she asked, staring at Shemyaza’s Wielders.

  ‘They are powerless,’ he said, holding up the sack. ‘Let em swim.’

  He marched across the deck towards the stern. ‘Sojin,’ he yelled, ‘bring Abela, bring supplies.’

  Two of his crew were already untying the covering on the small reed boat.

  ‘Lower this overboard,’ he commanded.

  Sojin emerged with Abela and Eran.

  ‘Abela, do ya think ya can help the men?’

  She observed the devastation, taking in the sight of men swimming from burning and sinking ships and the galley’s crewmen using oars to push the dead away. He wondered what memories stirred within her.

  ‘I’ll do what I can,’ she replied.

  ‘Good. Sojin ya and
Eran go with her. Move from galley to galley, patch em up and move on.’

  Ammo surveyed his fleet. He guessed Shemyaza’s Wielders destroyed at least eight galleys. Not counting the survivors still in the ocean, he estimated he’d lost a good few thousand men.

  He hadn’t touched a beer in years and shuddered remembering the last time and what it cost him. He resisted the urge to drink now. Bina caught up with him.

  ‘Darn, for a while there, I thought Shemyaza’s Wielders were gonna ruin my reputation.’

  She let out a shallow groan but even for her, it was a poor attempt.

  ‘I’m not sure if ya are up to it but when ya are strong enough, ya should warn Meciel. Whoever that giant is, he didn’t care about us. I’m guessing Shemyaza sent him after Mirah.’

  ‘I’ll update him at sundown.’

  He’d expected as much. Whatever power she held it wasn’t limitless, and she’d never admit her weakened state.

  ‘Ya know, ya gonna have to tell me sooner or later. I assumed ya was just playing hard to get but darn, who, what are ya?’

  Bina bristled and walked off.

  ‘This changes nothing between us ya know,’ he called after her, knowing full well it changed everything.

  ‘Oh, trust me I know.’

  ❊　36　❊

  Blue patches of sky snatched at silver-edged clouds drifting westwards and the sun’s rays frolicked with smoke spiralling up from the camp’s morning cook pots.

  Mirah and Neviah were on the roof of the timber Command Centre watching Nate and Zeev and several War Chiefs. For three nights she’d waited for the Beast to enter her dreams but it still declined to reveal itself or any trackers’ location.

  ‘Do you remember when we sat on the veranda in Hermonial?’ Neviah asked. ‘We’re not the same anymore. Are we?’

  Meciel had taken Gabe off somewhere at dawn. She didn’t say it but they weren’t the same and neither was he.

  Tur, now promoted to War Chief after Kesel’s removal, had returned to introduce Nate and Zeev to the other tribes.

  She could see them standing in a sandy arena which reminded her of the garrison courtyard at Hermonial. Even from here Nate stood majestic. He wandered with Tur, who stood a foot taller to his left and Zeev on his right towards the row of War Chiefs. Mirah didn’t recognise their sigils but she could detect their distinctive colours of reds, purples, yellows and greens.

  Nate stopped to speak to every War Chief. She wondered what he said as they straightened their shoulders and acknowledged his command.

  His confidence and ability to take the lead already forming strong bonds. Her heart tugged knowing he’d broken theirs.

  ‘Of course, if he wasn’t handsome, it wouldn’t be so difficult.’ Neviah sighed.

  ‘What?’ she asked, as her head whipped around.

  ‘Look at him. I’ve tried to ignore his ridiculous flirting but I don’t know anymore.’

  Mirah realised she was looking at Zeev. ‘You desire him?’

  ‘What if some of us don’t survive? I don’t want to die not experiencing what it feels like.’ She stole her gaze from away from Zeev. ‘Did you ever—’

  ‘No. Can we talk about something else?’

  They were silent for some time.

  The War Chiefs below dispersed, and Nate dug his boot in the dust. Before long, tribesmen arrived and paired off. Nate and Zeev circled around, assessing their techniques, offering advice where needed.

  ‘We should teach them how it’s done,’ Neviah said.

  Mirah caught the gleam in her eyes. ‘You’re right, come on.’

  Zeev’s face was a panorama of amusement, Nate’s not so much as they strolled between the sparring men. They took up their place amongst the sweat and dust kicked up by the tribesmen.

  Neviah had grabbed Nate’s staff and held it ready. ‘Let’s show them how to win this war,’ she said, wielding her staff low across Mirah’s thighs.

  Mirah dropped one end of her staff to the ground and used it to swing her body up and over Neviah’s staff.

  ‘Nice.’ Neviah grunted as wood hit against wood.

  They sparred until their lungs burned and dusty eyes itched. It felt good having a staff in her hands, to focus on sparring and nothing else. They finished to a solo clapping and Zeev coming at them with a water skin under his arm.

  ‘Thanks,’ Neviah said, taking a swig.

  ‘Now you’re warmed up, all hot and sweaty, are you ready for the real action?’ Zeev said, reaching his hand over the pommel of his sword.

  ‘Come to my room later,’ Neviah said, before rushing off.

  Zeev swung around to Nate, his eyes probing for answers, questioning what he’d heard and then shot off after Neviah.

  ‘You did well,’ Nate said, stepping closer.

  ‘So did you. We were watching from the rooftop.’

  She pushed the end of the staff out with her foot and observed his slight hesitation as he noted it now positioned between them.

  ‘What Gabe did, removing Kesel and Avar, I didn’t see that coming,’ he said, moving sideways.

  She pivoted. ‘As far as leading goes, he couldn’t have found a better Captain.’

  ‘Mirah, I, can we—’

  ‘I need to help Galia and Ayla with something,’ she said, edging backward.

  Her voice quivered. With a slow blink, she shoved the well of tears down deep. Would she ever find the space to cry them out?

  Without breaking into a run, she headed back to the Command Centre but when she reached it she kept going.

  She followed a trail down through the valley until she came to the river and collapsed onto the mossy grass. Under the sound of gurgling water, she let her tears flow and even though she no longer sensed their particles, each teardrop ripped from her soul.

  She lay on the moss and stared into nothing for a long while. If her Ma was here, she’d show her how to get through this.

  She sensed the shadow first and opened her eyes to discover Galia standing over her.

  ‘I thought I’d find you here. I always search out water when I’m low.’ She wandered to the river. ‘Even though I can’t feel it, I still find it soothing. Don’t you ever miss it?’

  ‘I sometimes miss flying water birds and children’s faces lighting up when chasing watery frogs.’

  Galia let the water flow through her fingers, swishing her palm against its flow. The wind stilled, and the trees became motionless, leaving only the river to gurgle its tune.

  ‘I lost my beloved. He was Zeev’s older brother. In the desert, I couldn’t reach him in time.’

  ‘Oh Galia, I’m sorry. Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘Until now I didn’t think you’d understand.’

  Galia flicked the water from her hand and came and sat beside her.

  ‘I came so close,’ Mirah said. ‘My heart, a wide open gulf drawing him to me. I didn’t comprehend the fear I know now. His betrayal… it would have been kinder to have killed me at Barakel.’ She sniffed and wiped her cheeks. ‘It’s like an emptiness but I know it’s far from that. Does it ever go away?’

  ‘In time it changes into something else.’

  ‘Meciel said, if I allow the pain grow deep enough, it will grow roots. I feel them burrowing. My flesh is tearing and I don’t know how to stop it. What should I do?’

  ‘I don’t claim to understand what you’re experiencing. I don’t have a connection to whatever power surges through my amulet like you. Nate doesn’t understand it either. All I do know is, if I had a second chance, I wouldn’t hesitate.’

  Neither spoke for a long time.

  She missed the birdsong, though she heard it, it didn’t sound the same. Sorrow and anguish sang in their melody and mimicked her own. Chirping little echoes reminding her of intoxicating smiles and snatched dreams.

  ‘We should return,’ Galia broke into the silence.

  ‘You go. I need a little more time.’

  After Galia retreated, Mirah went
to the river and lowered her hand into the frozen water, letting it wrap around her fingers. She waded out until the current pulled around her waist. Bending her knees, she submerged herself and let the water wash over her, not to cause harm but to cleanse.

  Her mind jumbled back through images of her past. Her Ma’s curly red hair framing her smiling face, Gabe setting his inky hand on the rock shelter wall, Nate’s raven black hair and cool blue eyes shining under the starlight, Huldah’s last breath, images flooded through her mind, one after another, images of Shemyaza and the Beast, faster and faster.

  Her lungs cried out for air and her bones rattled under her icy skin. A little longer she begged herself.

  Then she saw him, the Fallen Star, the creases around his hazel eyes and merciful smile. Everything has a reason, in its own time and right season. She rushed out of the river and raced back to the camp. Deep inside she knew, she knew the reason.

  Thunder rumbled across the sky bringing Mirah back to herself. She sprinted through the valley, thunder cracking behind her. She reached the Command Centre and with wet hair clinging to her face, she burst through his door.

  ‘Nate.’

  He leaped from his bed, scanning her for injuries. Water dripped onto the floor. She couldn’t move.

  ‘Nate,’ she pleaded.

  She felt her wet clothes soaking into his. His firm body, shielding her from a threat he couldn’t see. He brushed hair from her face and searched her for understanding.

  ‘Kiss me.’

  His lips crushed against hers, passion and months of yearning drove him. He poured all of his being into her like it was his last chance. The force of him causing her to gasp. He pulled his head back, his gaze taking her in. She saw the flaming spark of desire and the heat of it ignited her own. In that moment she came alive.

  He nuzzled into her hair and she heard him breathe her in. ‘I thought I’d lost you,’ he whispered and guided her lips back to his.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck drawing him closer. She couldn’t get him close enough.

  ‘I need you,’ she pleaded.

  His kisses caressed her neck and then smoothed over her collarbone. He realised what he did, how touching her there made her shudder and want release. His self-assurance purged through her apprehension. Invisible stars entwined around her, their light, dancing steps spreading over her skin. Her head swooned, and she shivered.