by Alex Paul
Arken squinted at the blue-black gloom ahead and saw nothing, so he glanced up at the lookout to make sure he was looking in the right direction. Talya suddenly ran up and squeezed in next to him at the railing.
“Do you see a fire, Talya?” Asher asked as he made room for her.
“There!” Talya pointed north. “See? It’s a ship on fire! I can make out the coastline. The fire is definitely coming from a ship on the water.” Wisps of her long, brown-blonde hair escaped her haresetail, so she held them back from her eyes to see better.
Of course Talya would be able to spot the fire, thought Arken.
“I see it now!” Arken pointed with excitement. “See, Asher?”
“No! I still don’t. Maybe my eyes aren’t so good.”
“Oh well, no matter.” Arken shrugged. “The important thing is we’re going to get to fight. If the enemy grapples our ship and attempts to board, we’ll have to defend the ship with swords! Are you ready for that, Asher?”
“Not really,” Asher said. He sounded worried.
“What is it, Asher?” Talya asked.
“I’ve barely trained for battle! I’m a terrible swordsman, and I’m the smallest cadet! How will I survive a swordfight?” Asher confessed. “I’m not afraid to die, but I’d like to have a chance at living!”
Arken gripped Asher’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you with my life.”
“No offense, Arken, but you’re just a finger taller than me! How can you protect me?”
“I defeated Gart in sparring, didn’t I? That’s what got me here. I’m a good swordsman.”
“You sure you weren’t just lucky?” Asher asked.
“Not lucky, I tricked him into lunging. And he was getting tired. He’s a fat slug. He could never keep up with us running,” Arken argued.
Talya laughed. “Fat slug! Well, I won’t share that with cousin Narval.”
“Best not to.” Arken smiled at Talya.
“I shouldn’t belittle you, Arken,” Asher said. “I’m sorry. The times Lar let us do target practice on board these last few days have convinced me you’re the best archer I’ve ever met. And I do appreciate your offer of protection, but in this battle, my life is not in your hands; it’s in the hands of our god Tol.” He shook his head. “May he have mercy on me.”
“Get in line for your armor!” Lancon Koman scolded them. “War waits for no one.”
“Let’s armor up!” Arken slapped Asher on the back.
Arken’s heart pumped hard with excitement as he waited in the line of cadets at the armory. The armory was normally open to the air, but overlapping canvas flaps had been draped from a rope to form a wall from the roof of the open armory to the deck, behind which cadets were being outfitted two at a time. The double flaps of canvas prevented the armorer’s candlelight from exposing their ship to an enemy. There were no lights to be seen anywhere on the Sea Nymph or the three escort ships as they rowed to battle.
Arken wasn’t sure he could save Asher during a pitched battle, but he’d do his best. After all, Asher was now his blood brother!
Still, he knew he should be realistic about their odds of surviving. They would be fighting grown men made strong by life at sea. Grown men much stronger than Gart. But he needed to bolster Asher’s confidence, so he didn’t dare convey his worry.
Arken and Asher watched the sliver of light on the eastern horizon fill the sky as they waited in line while the Sea Nymph rowed to war. There would be clear skies. It would be hot and windy at midmorning, as it was every day along this coast, but for now, there was no wind. A slight chill clung to the air as the previous night’s rinfall, which always followed nightmist after dark, put a bite in the morning temperature.
There was nothing to do but stand and wait, so Arken looked about the ship. The noise of preparation for war disturbed the quiet that usually accompanied the ship’s start of day. Normally, they would not move from an overnight anchor along the jungle coast until the sun was up. Arken had grown accustomed to the rhythm of the ship, and he liked to sneak up on deck at dawn and observe nature. The coastline they had followed for the past half-moonth had been nothing but jungle, with occasional glimpses of the higher plain that rose gently to the west away from the coast. Sometimes Arken could hear birds calling when the wind came from shore, and he would listen for the soft plopping sound of feeding fish jumping by the boat. It reminded him of the happy times in his youth before he entered the Academy. Arken found himself at the front of the cadet’s line. After a short wait, an arm shot out and pulled him through the canvas opening.
“Well, if it isn’t that short, blond boy that almost sunk the ship shooting an arrow into a smoker’s eye!” A sailor loomed before Arken. He assumed this sailor was helping Yon and the armorer prepare all the cadets. This man was bald but had a full, black mustache. He’d shaped it with tallow fat into two points, which stuck out to either side of his huge, white-toothed smile. Years of exposure to the sun had turned him dark brown, and in places like the back of his neck, his skin was purple.
“And now you’re here to dress for battle, you wee lad? Although, if you engaged someone at swords, they might not look low enough through their visor to see you, and you could chop a leg off while they were confused!” He let out a booming laugh at his own joke, which made his belly shake. “Better that they stick you in a corner somewhere with your bow and let you take pot shots at the enemy! I’ve been watching you practice and teach your friend the bow. You’re deadly!”
The sailor wore a leather smith’s apron, and the short sleeves of his white tunic failed to hide his massive biceps, which jumped as he turned to his work.
“Name?”
“Arken Freeth. I’ve the smallest armor on your rack.” Arken couldn’t help staring at the man’s massive arms. I’ll be stronger than even this man someday, Arken thought. If I survive today!
“You are short, lad!” The armorer shook his head while squinting at the scale of the breastplate compared to Arken’s body. “It may be the smallest armor, but it will barely fit you.”
The armorer’s rough hands strapped on his breastplate, helmet, and knee and shin guards.
“Right or left side for your short sword?” the armorer asked over the tumble of noise from war preparations.
“Left.” Arken preferred wearing the short sword on the left side so he could draw and fight right-handed, though they had all trained to fight with either hand since age six.
“Here’s your sword. Be careful. It’s not a sparring sword. The edge is deadly sharp.” The armorer held the short sword by the pommel at the end of the handle. Arken grabbed the leather-wrapped handle just below the hand guard. The blade reflected yellow candlelight as Arken held the sword before him. It was heavier than a training sword.
“Adjust that chin strap if it’s uncomfortable.” The burly armorer slapped Arken’s helmet. Sweat from the armorer’s arms sprayed Arken with the slap, but Arken didn’t react for fear of offending the man.
“Are you going to carry your bow into battle too?” The armorer’s bushy black eyebrows popped up. “I think you should, it will give you an advantage. And I’m not joking, boy; you’re better off hiding in some corner and laying into the enemy with your bow if they try to board us. You’ll stand no chance in hand-to-hand combat, but with your bow, you might kill a dozen men!”
“Then I will!” Arken’s excitement rose up at the thought of using his bow to slay the enemy.
“There’s a brave lad. It’s a good day for killing pirates with your bow.” The smiling armorer slapped Arken on the shoulder and shouted, “Next!”
“Pirates?” Arken asked. “Not the Amarrats?”
“I’m guessing, mind you, but I’ve never known the Amarrats to have a sea service. I’m thinking they allied themselves with the Tookans. Though it might be our new ally the Tolarians ahead, and we’ll have no fight. But then why would a ship be on fire?”
“It doesn’t make sense,” Arken agreed.
“Well, we’ll soon know. Now off with you.”
Arken waited for Asher to emerge from the armory. Tookans! The same pirates that had attacked his father’s ship years ago. Father hated them, though he respected their skills at sea and often said they were almost the equal of the King’s Sea Service. Though, fortunately for Lanth, the Tookans didn’t have Mork’s fire.
The Tookans’ main port, Forla, lay far to the northeast from Lanth at the top of the Circle Sea. It was surrounded by rugged mountains, impossible for an army to penetrate. While the Tolarians had ships, they were not as good at sea warfare as the Tookans. As a result, the Tolarians had never been able to mount a sea-based invasion of Forla to root out the pirate’s nest. Nortak had said that was another reason for the Tolarian-Lantish alliance. The Tookans had become an enemy of both countries by disrupting so much trade. If not for the Amarrat invasion, Tolaria and Lanth would be planning an attack on Forla now.
Asher emerged from the armorer’s tent.
“I never mentioned it before Asher, but you have nice armor.” Arken pinched the edge of the chest plate by the neck. “It’s thicker than ours.”
“Father wanted me to be safe, so he had it made of some special metal, which is lighter than bronze so it can be thicker and stronger.”
“Then you’ll be safe in battle.”
“I hope you’re right,” Asher said.
“The armorer gave me a good idea that will keep us both safe if they try to board us,” Arken shared in a low voice so no one else would hear.
“Tell me.”
“He said if the enemy boards, I should find a place to hide and kill them with arrows. So if you want to hide with me and pass me arrows, you’d help me fire faster and be a lot safer too!”
“Excellent,” Asher said. “Now you’re thinking. I might survive the day if there’s a battle!”
“So I’m going back to our cabin to get it.”
Arken felt proud as he raced to the cabin. Here he was the second-smallest cadet on the ship and yet the armorer had said he thought Arken was brave for drawing down on the sharrk’s eye while on the stern fishing platform! The memory still gave him shivers though.
He made his way down the steep ladder to the cabin level. The pace drum in the nearby rowing room boomed out so loud he felt like he was at the oars. His back muscles twitched at each fourth beat, which was louder to signal when to stroke. Pull! Drop, push, lift. Pull! Drop, push, lift. Arken hated the sound of that drum; rowing was miserable work, and the cadets had to take two-hour stretches at the oars each day.
Arken strapped the quiver to his waist so that it hung straight down between his knees. Then he reached for the bottom of the quiver and lifted it so that it was upside down. Two straps of leather hung from the bottom of the quiver, and he tied these all the way around his back to keep the quiver tight to his chest. The arrows didn’t fall out of the quiver because a cover was tied over the opening. When Arken needed the arrows, he would undo a loop at his chest, and the quiver would drop in front of his waist. Then he would untie the top cover to make the arrows quickly available. This was the standard way of carrying arrows into battle and was faster than using a quiver on the back.
Arken grabbed his bow and slung it over his shoulder with the string across his chest. He was ready for war!
A line of sunlight from the dawn greeted him when he climbed back to the deck. The coast off to the west was still a dark, impenetrable gloom of forest.
Arken found Asher standing below the command deck, where Captain Dunn began to address the gathered crew and cadets as Arken arrived.
“Talya, one of our sharp-eyed Queen’s Trackers, has confirmed that Tookan pirates are attacking some Tolarian ships—our new allies.” Captain Dunn pointed a hand as big as a ban’s hoof toward the battle to the north. “Our three escort ships are now rushing ahead, since we cannot row as fast as them. They will drive the pirates off in short order.”
Arken felt a sense of relief. The pirates would never get to the Sea Nymph!
“I will nominate young Talya for the Belzma award when we return to port! Excellent vision, Talya.” Captain Dunn grinned and the beams of dawn light revealed brown-stained teeth.
“Our fastest crew is rowing now, but you cadets will have a chance at the oars before the day is over, I guarantee.” The cadets would have groaned because oar time was hard, though quickly turning them into strong men. They didn’t groan, because they had learned any complaint or grumbling about the oars only brought the lash on their backs.
“Those are Tolarian ships under attack?” Asher blurted out. “My people?”
“Yes, young Tolarian, if your nation still uses green-sided ships, those are your people we are rushing to save,” Captain Dunn said.
“I want our crew at their regular battle stations. We’re shorthanded for crew on this ship to make room for you cadets, so you’ll make up the difference in numbers. I want the cadets as a reserve corps. You’ll take your position at the top of the galley stairs and help repel boarders if we’re grappled. Stand firm and fight well.”
He glanced around the deck. “Lancon Koman, you will take the forward catapult. Second Lancon Talbu, you’ll command the stern unit.”
Talbu, a brown-haired, heavyset man, saluted and said, “Sir!”
“And Lancon Zeem.” The captain turned to the tall, skinny officer with graying hair. “You will command the cadet reserve force. Instruct their salcon to take over in case you’re needed in the surgery.”
“Sir!” Zeem replied.
“Follow your orders carefully today, cadets, as you are going to be an important part of this fight.”
Arken felt excited about seeing his first action. He also felt a sense of dread. His first battle should have happened when he was older and fighting alongside experienced comrades. A short-handed ship partly crewed by fourteen-year-old boys without combat experience sounded like a recipe for early death.
The Queen’s Trackers had been standing by Mistress Calna during the captain’s briefing. Now Calna spoke.
“My scout Talya reports there are eight Tookan pirate ships attacking five Tolarian ships. The Tookans have one large flagship—Talya estimates it’s about one hundred feet long, larger than the Sea Nymph but shorter than our escort vessels—and seven cutters that are smaller than the Sea Nymph. And one Tolarian ship is already on fire.”
“Tookan pirates have never come this far across the Circle Sea!” Lancon Koman blurted out, his gray eyes wide in amazement as he stood to the side of the command deck.
“I wager those Tookans didn’t hug the coast the whole way here,” Captain Dunn said as he squinted to make out the details of the battle. “My bet is the Amarrats got the compass from some other seafaring nation and gave it to the Tookans in exchange for joining their alliance in this war. The Tookans probably sailed straight across the Circle Sea, saving weeks of travel!”
“It makes sense.” Koman nodded. His dark blue officer’s tunic actually looked like a tunic on Koman rather than the tent of a tunic that circled the Captain’s girth.
Captain Dunn sighed. “We may see more of them in our waters in the future.”
“I’m proud of my student Talya for being the first of the lookouts to identify the enemy ships as Tookan.” Mistress Calna crowded next to the captain after he spoke. “Thank you, Captain, for wanting to nominate her for the Belzma award.”
“Yes, that was excellent work.” The captain nodded politely. “You’ll want to get your girls assembled with the boys on the main deck now. Take your positions, everyone. Fight well.” He looked around at the cadets who now stood in rows before him with the girls at one side, also in line. “Very well, Warrior’s Oath!”
“Fear none in battle, nor death at sea, nor those who wish to torment thee. With Kal in mind and sword held high, fight until you win or die.”
Arken felt a stirring of pride as they recited the oath. The Lantish Sea Service was the best fighting force ever assembled
on the Circle Sea.
“All right, cadets, gather ’round.” Lancon Zeem drew them into a big circle.
Arken noticed Talya standing opposite him. She winked when their eyes met. Because she had the best eyes on the ship, Talya wore the exotic Tracker’s armor capped by the best lookout’s tapered, bronze helmet adorned with a red hark’s feather. Arken looked ahead. While he could see a fire, he could make out none of the details Calna had just related.
“Arken, you and Asher join Saldet Tyo at the forward catapult with Lancon Koman,” Lar ordered. He had come up to them as Zeem was talking. “That way, Asher will learn strategy from Lancon Koman while both of you can be useful running the catapult.”
“Sir!” they responded, coming to attention before making their way across the deck. It was a great honor to join the forward catapult crew, and Arken felt elated at the chance.
As he jogged forward, Arken felt someone looking at him and glanced back to see Gart glaring at him. Gart’s heavy black eyebrows were drawn together in a single angry V-shape. Then Arken noticed that Gart was listening to Donov, their new class salcon, as he gave the assembled cadets instructions for the upcoming battle.
Of course, Lancon Zeem was in charge of the cadets, but he would work through Donov to relay his orders. In Lanth, there was no greater honor than leading men into battle. Arken suddenly realized that Gart’s hatred for Arken had increased even more because Arken had taken this opportunity from Gart by defeating him in sparring.
Gart disappeared from Arken’s view for a second as Arken climbed up on the roof of the crew’s deckhouse. Arken looked back, but Gart had turned away. Still, Gart’s look of anger shook him. As they went into battle, Arken recalled his grandfather warning him that the best time to murder someone was during a battle, because everyone would assume the enemy had killed the victim. Arken resolved to keep close watch on Gart during the upcoming struggle.
“Can we get to the Tolarian ships in time to help?” Saldet Tyo asked Lancon Koman as Arken and Asher stood by the catapult and waited for instructions. Arken noticed Tyo sniffle, and it worried Arken that Tyo was sickly when everyone needed to be strong for the coming fight. How would Tyo, a skinny fifteen-year-old with a lingering cold, defeat a powerful pirate in a sword fight? Tyo’s shoulders were half the width of Lancon Koman’s, a man in his late twenties. For that matter, what chance did any cadet stand in combat?
