The usual dull ache in her knees had turned into a sharp jab that ran along the outside of her leg from ankle to knee each time her right foot made contact with the ground.
The trail was treacherous. Hanu had sprinted ahead at first, but already had slipped twice, his feet flying out from beneath him. She feared he would impale himself with his hook but somehow he ended up landing uninjured. Both times he rose cursing, his lips drawn down, his eyes darker. Thick glistening red mud painted his entire right side.
Maja stole a glance behind. The hammocks no longer swayed. The smoke from the longhouse trickled black towards the sky. The leaves in the treetops no longer danced in the breeze. Instead, an eerie calm had settled over the village. She could feel the sudden weight of the air. Beyond the caldera, dark clouds crept over the top of the volcano. It seemed to draw the air towards it. The clouds churned. What came was more than just an afternoon rain. A violent storm unfurled from the east.
Maja felt as if time had stopped, a sudden gasp by the skies before all hell would break loose.
Then it did. Shouts burst from the village. Khirtan’s men must have found the bodies. They would be swarming down the trail soon.
Hanu cursed and stopped dead in his tracks. Maja could not slow herself down, not with the boy on her shoulder, and despite planting her feet firmly, she slid into the back of Hanu’s legs and fell. He pointed his hook at the half dozen men charging up the trail. The Duke’s soldiers left behind at their ship must have heard the shouts too. Either that or they had seen the boy slung over Maja’s shoulder.
“Off the trail. Into the forest,” she hissed to Hanu. “We lose them in the forest and circle back to the ship.”
“My plan all along,” said Hanu. Without another word, he sprinted into the forest. Almost immediately he was swallowed up by the foliage, invisible to Maja.
She tried to stand, but the boy struggled, kicking his feet and shoving against her shoulder. She fell and the boy tumbled into the muddy rut of the trail.
“Let me go,” said the boy. Dried blood caked his face, making the whites of his eyes contrast sharply with his mahogany skin. As she did, she saw the words inked onto his skin. Words no commoner would dare wear.
“They’re going to kill you,” said Maja. She stole a glance down the trail.
“Are you any better?”
“I’m not going to kill you.” The men had closed the ground quickly.
“Do you promise?” he asked.
“We need to go.” She grabbed his arm and tried to jerk him to his feet but he went limp and flopped. She tried to reel him into her arms but he was slick with mud and she could not get a firm hold.
“Do you promise?” he asked again. “You’ll protect me. You won’t kill me?”
She nodded.
“Ever?”
The soldiers were almost on them. With each step, their breaths grew louder. With each step, their blades grew closer.
“Yes, yes, I promise. Let’s go.”
With those words, the boy sprung to his feet and darted past Maja. Her feet nearly slipped from beneath her but she found traction and raced after the boy, over the thin strip of grasses and then parting the vines and branches to vanish into the trees.
Far off the trail, Maja stood motionless in the jungle, swallowing her breath and listening beneath the looping cry of birds and the incessant buzzing of insects. She heard them, the soldiers: their muffled whispers, the snapping of branches beneath their feet, their breaths heavy from the exertion of racing up the hill.
Maja dragged the boy closer and ducked in the sheltering branches. When they had first fled into the jungle, she had thought that she had lost their soldiers. But soon after she heard the sounds of pursuit. Distant at first.
Now they were close. Through the branches, she saw their bright yellow armor, the swinging steel in their fists. She wondered how they did not see her. They would any moment now. She knew it.
She should have turned off the trail sooner. She should have listened to Hanu.
Now even he was gone, fled far ahead through the tangle of vines and walls of bamboo, probably nearly at the boat. Would he rally the other pirates to charge in after them? Would it even matter? Had Khirtan and his men descended the hillside to the beach already? Would they be waiting for her? Was all this running for nothing?
The boy was surprisingly still. She felt the even, measured rise of his chest with each breath. She had expected trembling and weeping but the boy had not made a single protest since they entered the cover of the jungle.
She turned aside one of the wide leaves behind which they hid. The soldiers moved towards them. But there were only two of them
The boy tugged at her leather tunic. “A knife? I won’t let them take me. Give me something to stab with.” He reached out with a blood and muck-covered hand.
She touched one of the curved karambits holstered at her hip. “You know how to use this?”
He smiled uncontrollably, his lips quivering wide. “Stab, stab, stab. Cut, cut, cut.”
Maja frowned. Something seemed off with the boy. She wondered if she was making the right choice.
“I’m supposed to be protecting you,” said Maja.
“Adi was supposed to protect me.” He opened his palm. He could not have been more than twelve years old, still a child, remnant plumpness clinging to his limbs. “In the end, I only have me.”
She placed her karambit in his hand and he immediately closed his fist and clutched the weapon close to his chest. The front of his robes were stained black where he had held the kitten tightly. She could see more of the script tattooed on his flesh, even recognizing a few of the words from the holy language. She had been around the royal family long enough for that script to be familiar. Who would have done this to the boy? Did they not know that such holy words were punishable by death? Was that why Adi was protecting him?
Branches snapped near them.
“No more talking,” she whispered.
The soldiers were close. They had stopped not more than half a dozen paces away, scanning the wild growth. Maja held her breath, squeezing, ready to draw her blades. Where had the other one gone?
How was she going to get out of here with the boy? Was it better to try to slip away or if spotted run as fast as they could to stay ahead of them? The boy would slow her down. Or would it make more sense to make a stand here? Her two blades against their two blades. An even match. After all, she was a Sword Demon. She touched the fungal bandage on her side. She had not walked away unscathed from the last encounter. Did she have what it would take to face both of them and beat them before the others were drawn to the sounds of clashing swords? Again, the boy would be more hindrance than help. She needed to decide what to do fast. They would see her soon enough and then she would have no choice.
Run. She decided to run. Better to get to the sword and spears of the pirate crew.
Something crashed in the forest on the opposite side of the soldiers. They wheeled about, swords held in front of them. A wall of bamboo shook.
Maja wasted no time. She scooped the boy up and fled, slowly at first, careful about making too much noise, and then when she felt she had enough space, she opened up her stride. Branches whipped against her face. She dodged exposed roots and uneven earth. All the while, the boy bounced on her shoulder, gasping with each stride as her shoulder drove into his belly.
She had barely covered any ground when the boy whispered into her ear. “Faster. They have seen us. Run faster.”
So she ran. And ran. Legs aching. Lungs burning.
“Faster,” he urged.
When Maja could no longer keep up the pace, she stopped suddenly, flinging the boy from her shoulder. He fell into a tangle of bushes with a loud grunt. Maja wheeled about, swords drawn. “I’m done running!” she screamed to her pursuers.
The thick brush swayed in her wake. A large blue butterfly spiraled lazily towards a patch of light above. Dark clouds swarmed through the gaps in the
canopy. Insects adjusted their incessant buzzing.
No soldiers.
She turned to the boy.
He plucked leaves from his hair. “I guess you ran fast enough.”
“What’s your name?”
“Sri.”
She laughed. The first of heavy warm raindrops fell from the sky.
“What’s so funny?”
“Short for Srirampaharit?” she asked. “Another child named after the God-Emperor? Half a dozen of you in every village.” She scanned the empty forest behind them. “Get up, Little Lord Sri. We’ve gotta be close to the boat now.”
Several minutes later, they reached the edge of the forest and a band of white sand. The surface of the ocean was shattered with the sudden rain. The previously smooth, bright sea had turned dark, and where the rain touched it exploded in a white fury. Even the gentle waves had picked up ferocity and hissed up the shore as if in anger.
The Sea Eagle hung heavy in the ocean some distance off. Maja had not walked in as straight a path as she would have hoped. The jungle had forced her off course.
But it was for the better.
The yellow armored soldiers of the Duke milled about in the waters by the boat. She waited. She expected the clash and clang of blades, but instead the pirates and the soldiers headed together towards the lean-tos the villagers had constructed on the beach, fish houses, and settled in against the rain. And unexpected laughter burst from the lips of her companions.
Maja cursed.
8
IN THE DARK of night, Maja slipped out of the safety of the trees and down to the beach. Hours had passed since she and Sri had escaped their pursuers. Hours since she had heard any distant searching voices. She left the boy cowering and shivering beneath the shelter of a banana tree, the broad leaves creating an umbrella from the heavy rain. Once she reached the waters, she turned back to make sure he had not followed her. Even though Sri huddled not a few feet from the white sand, he was nearly invisible in the forest, a dark, impenetrable mass.
Sri had made no sounds of protest during the hours they waited in the storm for the sun to set. She had thought he might want to huddle next to her to fight the chill. Yet he had said nothing when she had told him to wait. She wondered what he had been through that he was so hardened.
Clouds swarmed across the horizon and what was not lost to the sheeting rain was consumed by the blackness of the night. But despite the gloom, the lights from the Sea Eagle were a beacon. There she would find Captain Pak. She could trust him. He would help protect the boy.
But she wondered what had happened? Why had the other pirates gone to shore with the Duke’s soldiers? She knew she could count on the Captain.
Maja crept along the beach, bending over and making herself small, less visible to anyone who might be looking for her and the boy. The rain came down so hard that she could not hear her own breath. The water drenched her, rivuleting down her cheeks, soaking into her leather armor and sarong. The salt of the sea was strong, and she paused for a second to inhale the smell she had long associated with freedom and her lost childhood. Then she moved forward again. She tracked along the sand, parallel to the jungle for a short distance, then paused.
The fires from the pirates and soldiers encamped on the beach pulsed bright within the shelters. She doubted many of the soldiers kept an eye to the sea but she knew she could not walk the entire way along the beach. She would need to slip into the sea and swim along to the backside of the vessel so no alarm was raised.
She stepped into the waves.
The sea was warm, a respite from the chill of the driving rain. She edged forward, letting the water slowly rise up her calves, knees, and thighs, careful to not splash. She was still a safe distance from the light of the fires but soldiers could be posted in the trees, men watching for her. When the water reached her ribs, she squatted and leaned forward, kicking steps along the sand and coral, her cupped hands gently guiding her.
She swam out into deeper water until only the tips of her toes touched the sea bottom, and she maintained that depth parallel to the shore until the voices of the men beneath the lean-tos became clear and their faces distinguishable in the flickering light.
She turned away from the shore, kicked off the sand, and swam slowly out towards the ship. The leather armor weighed heavy but she was a strong swimmer and confident. And she preferred to have the armor. She still did not know whom to trust.
A hulking shadow, the shape of a man, stood on the prow of the Sea Eagle and stared towards the lights of the campfires. Maja kicked closer to the ship. She veered towards the aft where a single lantern swayed, its light shafting through the gaps in the planks of the walls of the single cabin. She swam more slowly, careful not to splash. When she was a dozen yards from the vessel, she saw that Garu stood watch at the front of the vessel. She allowed herself to drift closer. She did not completely trust Garu. He had fought shoulder-to-shoulder with her against common enemies in days past but that was what anyone would do. Treachery was currency among pirates. He had yet to prove any true loyalty to her.
She bobbed alongside the pitch-darkened timbers of the hull. She walked her hands along the cold surface until she found the thick rope of the rear anchor. She drew herself hand over hand out of the water until she grasped the deck. Her arms ached with the effort, her weight increasing as she rose from the surface. She panted slightly but fought to control her breathing. Hauling herself out of the water was work. Finally she climbed high enough so she could peer over the deck.
Garu stood unwavering at the prow, outlined by the lights from the shore fires, the studded club resting on his massive shoulders.
Maja slipped a forearm and elbow on the deck and then with a slight swing of her hips, she hooked her heel and lifted herself to the surface. She stared again down the length of the boat. Garu had not moved. He stood as still as a statue. The boat groaned and squeaked against the rolls of the waves. The wood smelled damp. Despite their distance from the shore, Maja inhaled the stench of the rot of the jungle.
The cabin was roughly constructed and yellow beams of light cut between the boards painting the deck. She crept forward. When she was close enough, she stared through a gap between boards.
The small room was empty. A lantern hanging from the ceiling swayed with the rocking of the waves. The chests were strapped together and padlocked. The bed was not yet rolled out for the evening. Barrels were stacked against one wall, held in place with a thick webbing of hemp rope.
Maya felt cold metal touch her neck.
She turned her head slowly. Seeing the Captain, she let out a sigh of relief. He removed his knife from her throat but kept it at his side, unsheathed. He lifted a finger to his lips cautioning her to silence.
“What did you do back there?” he whispered.
“I went after the Sword Demon.”
He glanced back towards Garu and the men on the shore. “You killed the Duke’s men.”
“And since when is that a problem?”
“You tell me. I met Khirtan. The one that haunts your nightmares still.”
“They can prove nothing. A sword cut is a sword cut.”
The Captain shook his head and then leaned in. Even in the dark, she could see his wide cheeks and the crooked teeth, the gray streaked hair, his kind eyes. His voice was low bringing her back to the long hours they spent on deck talking about a future life that did not depend on their blades and robbery. He had talked about finding a wife, children dashing among the chickens, long afternoons on the lagoon with a canoe filled with fish.
“You have the boy, don’t you?” he asked.
“They’re planning to kill him.”
“What business is that of ours? They will pay us for him, and pay us handsomely. More than we could get from the soggy sacks of mushrooms we stole. Enough money to settle ourselves in Benung. We can get to that blue lagoon finally. Be done with this life.”
“I can’t give the boy up to those monsters.”
“The bonds of pirates and sellswords. Songs have been sung about those bonds. And it always ends up with someone stabbed in the back.”
“We’re a family, Maja.”
The deck boards creaked with methodical heavy steps, steps that did not seek to hide themselves. Garu held the club in both hands, cocked on his shoulder, ready to swing.
“Captain?” he asked.
The Captain waved his hand. “Everything is fine. Our Maja has returned, and we talk of the blue lagoon.”
Garu’s gaze settled on Maja. He met her look, not turning away.
“You can go back to the prow,” snapped the Captain. “I’ll let you know if I need anything.” After Garu returned, Captain Pak muttered, “That man is intensely loyal. Too loyal.”
Maja was not so certain of his loyalty but did not want to say anything. She needed to not argue with the Captain.
“Why are you here?” asked the Captain.
“We need to protect the boy.”
“I would prefer the ransom.”
“I am not going to turn him over to be killed.” Maja shifted her weight. She wondered if she had made a mistake returning to the ship.
“Who said that they were going to kill him?” asked the Captain. “Khirtan told me the boy, the only son of a vassal lord, had been held ransom by a rogue Sword Demon and they were tasked with bringing him back home. A reward for them and he will pay us a portion in advance. A generous portion.”
“That was Adi. He’s no rogue. More loyal to the throne of the God-Emperor than any man in his right mind should be.”
“Maja, I’m telling you what Khirtan told me.”
“The boy said nothing. He gave no indication he had been kidnapped. Said nothing about wanting to return home. I’ve been with him for hours. I know Khirtan. He lies.”
“I have seen the coin. Are you willing to give up our once chance for happiness for this boy? This boy who means nothing to us?” asked Captain Pak.
“You need to help me, Cap. We need to protect the boy. I am not going to give him up to Khirtan. The man is a devil.”
The Rise of the Fallen (The Rotting Empire Book 1) Page 6
