by Stas Borodin
“Have you ever seen somebody being impaled?” the girl said. “They sharpen one end of the stick—” She didn’t finish her story, starting to snore in the middle of her sentence.
“Let’s sleep on the prow,” Ice suggested. “Or I’ll strangle her with my own hands.”
“We have two more days till Paara,” I smiled. “Can you can contain yourself that long?”
“Gods know.” Ice rolled his eyes. “Why do they punish me so?”
We headed to the prow, stepping over the sleeping soldiers and oarsmen. Passing the mast, we heard an animal growl. The prisoner grinned, looking at us from the shadow. His eyes glowed in the dark like hot coals.
“What a monster!” Ice muttered. “He gives me goosebumps when he stares at me like that!”
“Is he more terrifying than the sea monster?” I poked him in the ribs.
“Way more terrifying!”
We spread our bedrolls on the prow, exchanged a few jokes and fell asleep pretty quickly.
✽✽✽
I was awakened by a strange sound. Someone was sobbing in his sleep, or maybe crying. I lay for a while with my eyes closed, listening and trying to remember what had woken me up. I could hear sailors snoring, the faint creaking of wood, and the soft sound of the waves splashing against the sides of the ship.
Suddenly the sound was repeated. It sounded like a muffled bellow, like someone’s moaning coming through tightly clenched teeth. Yes, it was some sailor having a nightmare. I smiled and was about to go back to sleep, when the sound came again, this time from a different place. I stiffened, opening my eyes and peering into the dark silhouettes scattered around the deck.
The night was dark, the only light coming from the stars shining through the gaps between the clouds. I held my breath. Nothing happened for a while, but then, one of the sailors stood up. I smiled again, relaxing. It seemed that the poor fellow was suffering from stomach pain. He needed to take a dump or drink some water from the water barrel.
The sailor stepped over his sleeping fellow and lay down again. Funny. Maybe he is a sleepwalker? What if he falls overboard in his sleep?
The moan was repeated once again. The sailor shuddered a couple of times and then went still. Poor sod! I rolled onto my back. An unpleasant smell crept into my nostrils. Damn, it looked like he’d actually soiled himself.
The sailor stood up again, swaying from side to side like a drunk. I strained my eyes, trying to make out his features. He was big and broad shouldered, probably one of the oarsmen. Long arms and short legs. Just like him. I looked at the prisoner bound to the mast.
My heart thumped hard, almost jumping out of my mouth. The prisoner had disappeared! He’d run away!
Meanwhile, the dark figure went down once again, moaning sounds and shrugging repeated.
Now I knew what was going on.
I covered Ice’s mouth with my palm and pulled him by the ear. My friend woke up instantly. He tried to fight, but I held him tight. “Quiet!” I whispered in his ear. “The prisoner got free and now he’s killing our men!”
“Damn!” Ice tensed, sleep gone in an instant. “What should we do?”
“Let’s burn him! Can you do it?”
Ice sucked air through his teeth. “I don’t know. It’s so crowded in here, I’m afraid I may burn half of our men too.”
“I wish I had my old crossbow,” I sighed, looking around for anything that could be used as a weapon.
Ice grunted. “Don’t be silly, Mark, it’s too dark to shoot the damn thing.”
My palms were sweating. “But we must do something. Time is running out!”
“Listen,” Ice squeezed my hand firmly. “Next time he gets up, I’ll set him on fire. Your job is to put the flames down and prevent them from spreading around.”
“Right.” I eyed a box with fire extinguishers standing nearby. “Let’s do it!”
“Just give me a sec.” Ice wetted his lips with his tongue. “Ready?”
A wobbling shadow quietly separated from the deck. Impossibly tall, menacing, inhuman.
“Go,” I whispered.
Ice dashed forward like a fearless trakee player. Bright yellow flames shot up, illuminating the pallid face and smiling bloody mouth. The roaring fire devoured them greedily, turning the man into a living torch.
I jumped to my feet and threw back the lid of the box. Thank gods, it was almost full. I grabbed one sphere and threw it into the fire. The glass shattered, spilling the orange foam all over. The foam hissed and bubbled, unable to douse the magical flame.
Ice joined me. We threw the fire extinguishers together, paying no heed to the chaos erupting all around us.
The men were screaming, their clothes afire and their legs skidding on blood and foam.
“Attention!” The captain’s voice worked like magic. “Stop fooling around, boys, and put the damn fire out!”
Dozens of fire extinguishers exploded simultaneously, creating a waist-high wall of foam. The flames hissed angrily and died out, defeated. Suddenly, the night was dark and quiet once again.
Ice and I rushed to the smouldering remains of the prisoner. A little further away, closer to the mast, were the bodies of our murdered crewmen.
“Careful!” Ice barked, stopping abruptly.
I stumbled and almost fell, cutting my palm on the broken glass scattered around the deck.
“Sorry, I can’t see a thing in this damn darkness,” he said, helping me up.
Light spheres flashed, illuminating the ship with a harsh white light. Long black shadows cast by the crewmembers crisscrossed the deck.
“What the—?” The captain looked at Ice, then at the smouldering remains lying in the centre of a dirty puddle. The prisoner’s hands were bent and clutched against his chest, his empty eye sockets staring into the starry sky.
“I’m gonna be sick,” Ice moaned, backing away from the corpse.
Bevid slowly lowered a fire extinguisher, his face covered with soot and his forehead bleeding from numerous shallow cuts. “Care to explain what’s happened here, Master Wizards?”
Ice tried not to look at the disfigured bodies. “Our guest of honour here got thirsty in the middle of the night and decided to take a stroll. Damn greedy fella, I must say!”
Bevid crouched beside a dead crewmember, carefully inspecting his wounds.
“I see.” He nodded slowly. “His throat has been torn to shreds.”
✽✽✽
We buried the dead in the morning. There were twelve. The captain read a short prayer and the bodies were given to the sea.
The wounded, all with burns of varying degrees, approached Ice with words of gratitude.
“You saved us from a terrible death, Master Wizard,” said an oarsman with a bandaged hand. “There are no words that could express our gratitude!”
We all were shocked by the killer’s animal brutality.
A grizzled marine bowed next. “If not for you, that thing would have slaughtered us all.”
Captain Gormant and Bevid stood next to us, their faces pale, jaws set.
“It’s all my fault,” Bevid muttered. “If not for my carelessness, this wouldn’t have happened.”
“Don’t blame yourself, old man,” the captain muttered. “The fault is entirely mine.”
Ice and I stood silent. Even Hrianon kept her mouth shut, scared by the night’s events.
“I’d like to know who is behind all this,” I said. “Who started this war? Who brought these monsters to our lands, and for what purpose?”
“I hope we’ll find out pretty soon,” the captain said.
I hoped so too.
Part 4
Chapter 1
Paara appeared before us like a wonderful Fata Morgana. Unreal and breathtaking.
It was hard to believe that our journey had finally come to an end. We had been through countless trials, survived many dangers, and many of us had perished on the way, but those who had survived were happy as children.
&nb
sp; “Paara! Paara!” the marines shouted.
“Wine! Whores!” the oarsmen echoed from under the deck.
Ice and I stood on the prow, looking at the mighty watchtowers marking the entrance to the harbour. The watchtowers were getting bigger and taller with each oarstroke. A triumphant roar came from The Hammer and The Anvil.
“Finally! I’m so glad to be back!” Ice grinned. “I just can’t wait to tell the old man all about our brave deeds and incredible adventures!”
I was anxious to meet the old wizard as well. To share my thoughts and observations, to see his shy smile and hear his calm and soothing voice.
“What are you grinning at?” Hrianon joined us at the prow. Today she looked even prettier than before. We smirked, but said nothing.
“Jackasses!” the girl snorted.
The pentera passed between the long stone walls and entered the harbour. Hrianon wanted to say something witty, but instead she froze with her mouth open. I knew Paara was a sight to behold.
“Impressive, eh?”
The girl nodded thoughtfully, looking in awe at the tall crenellated walls and mighty towers. “I’d like to see them crumble,” she said.
Ice laughed and turned to me. Suddenly, the smile froze on his lips. “Damn! Something has happened in Paara! Captain, look!”
The port, usually packed with hundreds of ships, was completely deserted. All the warehouses, boat sheds and fish stalls had been turned into heaps of blackened rubble.
“We met no fishermen on our way,” the captain said.
Bevid nodded. “This is highly unusual for the middle of the fishing season.”
The pentera rounded the tall stone pier and entered the naval part of the harbour. All the warships were gone too. Even the dry dock was empty.
“This makes no sense.” Bevid looked puzzled. “Even the damn dogs are missing!”
The silence was unnatural and frightening. Cautiously, like a church thief, our small fleet approached the shore. The captain gave the order to drop an anchor.
“Everyone stays on board till further orders. Bevid, go to the city and get me answers!”
“Aye, Captain.” The expression on the first mate’s face was grim.
“We are going too,” I said.
“We are?” Ice swallowed audibly. “Well, of course we are.”
The captain didn’t argue. “Be careful, lads. We need you.”
The crewmen watched us disembark in silence.
“We’ll find horses in the guardhouse.” Bevid took a big gulp of water from his flask and wiped the sweat from his brow. It was sweltering hot already. “We’ll be back in half an hour.”
“If possible, I’d like to visit the Academy too,” I said. “It’s not that far from here.”
“We’ll see,” Bevid nodded. “We’ll see…”
The barracks were deserted as well. The doors to the warehouses stood ajar and the storage bays were empty. All food supplies, weapons and spare rigging had been taken.
“Someone cleaned it up thoroughly,” Bevid said with a humourless laugh.
The guardhouse was empty too. Only a knocked-over chair lying on the floor and dirty dishes on the table remained.
“No horses.” Ice was breathing hard, his face covered with fine white dust. “All I found is two old saddles and a chicken. That damn chicken, I must admit, is a pretty nimble one, way nimbler than I am!”
“You can saddle your chicken, if you wish,” Bevid sighed, fanning his sweaty face with a dirty straw hat. “I’ll go on foot.”
✽✽✽
The Gates of the Prophet were closed and locked. Bevid pounded on the small side door with his heavy fist, but to no avail.
“Dammit!” Half-heartedly, he kicked the door with his foot. “Are they deaf or dead?”
The city was suspiciously quiet. We could hear no music, no hum of the crowds, nor shrieks of the wandering pedlars. Nothing, only the wind howling and the crows cawing.
“What’s that smell?” Ice sniffed the air. “It smells like burnt meat.”
“It is,” Bevid grunted. “Let’s go, lads. We’ll try the Ragpickers Gates next. They don’t close them even during war.”
“Have mercy! It’s three hours’ walk uphill,” Ice moaned. “Come on, guys, I can blow this damn thing right now!”
As if in response to his proposal, the bars on the gate rattled and the small door creaked open. An armour-clad guard peeked out. “I’ll blow your brains out, you scum!” he roared through the lowered visor of his full helm. “Skedaddle!”
“We are Paarian citizens.” Bevid eyed the guard’s spiked mace warily. “Let us in immediately, or get us Captain Hirin! I’ll talk to him myself.”
A strange sound, probably a laugh, came from under the helmet.
“Get lost, old man,” the guard said. “Or I’ll send you after your captain, straight to Annuvir!”
The door began to close, but Bevid stuck his foot into the gap.
“I warned you, knave!” The guard roared, opening the door and swinging his mace.
Bevid stepped aside, dodging the attack with ease. Next he kicked the guard in the chest, knocking him down. He pressed the assailant’s arm to the ground with his knee and flung the helm’s visor open.
“Good God!” Bevid recoiled. “The Black Plague!”
The guard’s face was covered with bloody coin-sized blisters and his eyes were yellow with a red rim around the pupils.
“I told you, old man,” the guard laughed. “Get lost!”
We ran as fast as we could, the guard’s laughter behind our backs turning into a death rattle.
✽✽✽
The captains’ faces paled when they heard about the plague.
“Raise the anchors!” Captain Modron ordered. “Every minute spent here puts us in mortal danger.”
“I agree,” Captain Penkaur said. “This enemy can’t be defeated, we should retreat at once.”
Captain Gormant looked at us expectantly. “What’s your say, Master Wizards?”
Ice stared at me.
“We should go to the Academy first,” I said. “What if Master Aydiola is still there and needs our help?”
Master Modron cleared his throat. “Allow me to disagree, m’lord. If the infection gets on board – we are done for. No magic could save us.”
I nodded. “That’s why you should take the ships away from the coast. You will be safe on the water.”
The captain grunted disapprovingly.
“I’ll go with you.” Ice made a manful face, but his eyes betrayed him.
“Not this time, buddy,” I said. “I need you here. I’m afraid that our brave captains may try to escape if they get the chance.”
“They better not,” Ice smiled, looking relieved. “I’ll see to it!”
✽✽✽
The sun was already high and fierce. I put on a wide-brimmed hat, found in my luggage, took a large flask of water and, without a moment’s delay, left the port. I had a long road before me, so I had to hurry if I wanted to be back before dark.
The cobbled road underfoot was covered with scattered goods and chattels. A little further on, I saw a coach standing at the kerb. The four dead horses were covered with flies, and a silent driver was still on the box clutching the reins in his dead hands. I pulled my sweat-soaked scarf over my nose, but the stench was still overwhelming.
The closer I got to the Academy, the more worried I became. It was awfully quiet, just like in the city.
The highest tower was topped with an ugly-looking black flag. The main gates were thrown open, and the courtyard behind them was littered with books and scraps of paper trampled into the dried mud.
I ran through the deserted streets, not believing my eyes. Windows were smashed, doors were torn off their hinges, and discarded clothes and shards of glass were scattered everywhere.
What enemy had broken into the Academy and made all this mess?
I wanted to cry, to scream, but instead I clenched my teeth
and balled my hands into fists. I wasn’t scared, I was angry.
I quickly crossed the small round square and entered the library. Books gently rustled under my boots. Heavy bookshelves lay overturned, making a grotesque pyramid in the middle of the room. The air was sour, smelling of ink, glue and chemicals.
I pulled the upended table to the side and opened the door to Aydiola’s study. Same here, only torn books and the suffocating smell of chemicals.
Stumbling and sliding, I rushed to the street, leaned against the wall and retched. My head swam, blood thumping inside my skull like a heavy hammer. I limped to the fountain and plunged my burning face into the icy water. It felt good, but a few minutes later the nausea and dizziness came back with a vengeance. Pressing my hands to my temples, I doubled up once again.
The high double doors leading to the main hall lay splintered on the floor, their intricate carvings disfigured by the battering ram. Cautiously, I entered the dark hall and almost tripped over a cracked kite shield.
A little further on, in the aisle between the benches, I saw a dead knight in battered armour sitting on the floor. Another dead body was propped against the flight of bloodied marble steps. The chairs on top of the dais were empty and covered with a thick layer of dust.
I looked around and noticed the door to the Chamber of Mysteries standing ajar. Through the crack in the door I saw flames flickering inside and I heard people talking.
I crossed the hall and pushed the door open. The chamber was brightly lit by the roaring fireplace; dead knights lay on the floor on top of one another. There were dozens of them.
I held my breath, inspecting the battlefield.
“Come on in, Master Marcus,” an unfamiliar voice sounded. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
I bit my lower lip and forced myself to cross the threshold.
The voice belonged to a middle-aged man seated on a high chair in the middle of the room. The man was smartly dressed and he was smiling. Behind the chair I saw a knight in full armour and a huge two-handed sword standing by the wall.
