The Book of Deacon: Book 04 - The Rise of the Red Shadow

by Joseph Lallo

  As if in response, a skiff emerged from the mists. It was small, barely enough to carry Goldie himself and the shoulder-high crate that took up the rest of its deck. He pushed the vessel along with a pole, and when he reached the sandy shore of the clearing, he looked around and hopped down.

  “Well? Where are you hiding?”

  Lain stood up and approached him.

  “Ah,” Goldie said. “There. Fetch your other malthropes. They shall ride in the crate.”

  “First tell me what you have planned.”

  Goldie sneered. “From time to time, I receive requests from those in my homeland to send a live specimen of an exotic beast native to these lands. Some friends of my family have a vast and varied menagerie, and they are ever eager to increase its stock. It is one of the more difficult tasks we are called upon to fulfill, but we've managed it with beasts large and small. We will load your malthropes into this crate, take them back to the ship, and load them into a special cage in the hold. Very close slats. No one should be able to see. The crew has been told we are transporting a basilisk. One gaze will turn them to stone. That should keep their curiosity at bay. When we reach Qualia, the cage will be transported to a forest north of the city and left with me for pickup. I will release your creatures and they will be on their way. Does that meet with your requirements?”

  “How long will they be at sea?”

  “Forty days, depending on weather.”

  “And they will be fed?”

  “Salted meat and fresh water daily.”

  Lain turned to the bushes. Sorrel reluctantly revealed herself and took the twins by their hands. They pulled and tugged, unwilling to step out until Sorrel gathered one into her arms and beckoned Lain to do the same. The four of them walked past Goldie, who recoiled at the sight as though a swarm of rats had scurried by. Sorrel looked him the eye long and hard before loading Wren into the crate and dropping her pack in after him. Lain helped Reyna in, then took Sorrel's hand to help her in as well. She stood for a moment eying the elf warily.

  “You are sure we can trust him?” she asked doubtfully.

  “I will be near,” Lain said.

  She nodded once and finally ducked inside. Goldie closed and latched the lid, then turned to find Lain gone . . . gone from sight, at least. The elf stepped onto the skiff, put the pole to the water, and slowly pushed it back toward the harbor.

  Lain was true to his word, stalking the craft as it made its way along the shore. He always kept himself hidden, but never let the skiff out of his sight. The port of Delti was less than an hour away. By the time dawn was finished breaking, the skiff was drifting along the deeper water of the harbor. It was a bustling place, a dozen ships at dock and hundreds of sailors and port workers yelling out orders to one another. Waves rolling in from the sea jostled the skiff, and within its heavy cargo, the twins began to whimper in fear from the strange noises and sudden motions.

  Goldie rapped the top of the box, barking orders in a harsh whisper. “Keep them quiet. I don't imagine these folks know what a basilisk sounds like, but it certainly doesn't sound like a pair of mewling kits.”

  Inside the crate, striped by the light shining between the planks, Sorrel gathered the twins closer and hushed them. “Teyn will make sure we are safe.” She repeated it, eyes shut. “He will make sure we are safe.”

  The skiff made its way to the rear of a ship marked The Path of the Sun. It was a grand vessel, narrow of hull and with vast triangular sails; a ship built for speed. The deck was already piled with crates, bundles, and bales, shielding the far side of the ship from view from the dock. It was there that the crew on the deck swung a pair of stout wooden struts over the side of the ship, lowering ropes that Goldie secured to the crate. Inside, Sorrel held her children tight as the crate was hauled up and onto the deck. She managed to keep the terrified little creatures quiet as workers nervously lifted the crate carried it below decks to the cargo hold. Goldie docked the skiff and made his way into the ship.

  It was no small task to navigate the boat without being seen by its crew, but Lain did so with ease, lurking among the rows of cargo already loaded when Goldie met the workers at what appeared to be the rear wall of the hold. Once there, he pulled aside an inconspicuous plank and tugged at the ropes that it hid. The wall shuddered, and with a shove the workers managed to slide it aside. Within was the cage Goldie had mentioned. It was large, perhaps the size of a prison cell, and made from study wood. The slats were indeed very close, space enough for a finger to slip through between them if that. One whole wall of the cage swung aside, revealing a slatted floor with wider gaps. The floor was raised somewhat, and beneath it was a trio of loosely-fitted troughs with sloped bottoms. The lingering stench in the air left little doubt what they were used for. A long, thin opening on one wall led to the open air outside, providing barely adequate ventilation and virtually no light. Inside the cage, a pair of smaller troughs aligned with two small hatches on the cage wall. The rest of the room was packed tight with the sort of goods that would never be allowed to leave Tressor if the authorities knew about them.

  “Go,” Goldie said to the workers. “The instructions are quite clear. I will transfer the beast according to the client's specifications. No sense risking too many members of the crew.”

  The men gratefully retreated. A moment later, Lain slipped into the hidden room, and Goldie clicked the passage shut behind. He opened the top to the crate and helped Sorrel and the twins out. She sniffed the air and peered in disgust at the surroundings. Goldie pointed first to the troughs on the floor of the cage, then the ones beneath.

  “Food and water come in there. Leavings fall through there. Once a day, workers will leave one and take the other. The wood is good and thick. With this door shut, you can make a fair amount of noise without alerting anyone. It isn't luxury, but it will get you there alive, and without prying eyes,” he said dispassionately.

  “It is horrid,” Sorrel growled.

  “You don't have many options,” Goldie said. “Now, move—quickly. This ship is to leave within the hour.”

  Sorrel stepped into the cage, her children hopping in to stay with her. She reached out to Lain. He took her hands. It was a solemn moment. In the short time since they had been reunited, Lain had already forgotten how he'd ever lived without her. He had hoped that when this time came, he would have the words to express his joy and sorrow and finding and losing her again so soon, emotions he'd thought had died long ago. No words came. He simply stared into her eyes, and she stared back. Finally, she spoke.

  “Come with me,” she said.

  “I . . .” he began, unprepared for such a request.

  “Do not tell me you do not want to. Do not tell me you can look at these children and say you do not feel the need to see them grow.” Fresh tears were running down her face now.

  “I do.”

  “Then come with me.”

  “I cannot. There are things here that need to be done.”

  “Things that need to be done,” she muttered. “Always you are doing things because they need to be done, or they are right to do, or because other people want you to do them. You can find a way to serve your purpose in the new land, and maybe you can be happy there, too! For once in your life, do something because you want to do it!”

  She stared with agonizing intensity into his eyes.

  “Look, stay or go,” Goldie barked. “I can smuggle four as easily as three, but make your decision! The longer we delay this ship, the more likely they'll hold it for a search.”

  When the words finally left Lain's mouth, they came directly from his heart, skipping his mind entirely. “I will go with you.”

  Sorrel rushed to him and squeezed him tight, openly sobbing as he squeezed her back.

  “Fine, fine. Into the cage with you,” Goldie said.

  Lain stepped inside, the cage door was closed and latched, and the hidden door sealed. For a long while, there were no words. Just a tight, prolonged embrace, cop
ious tears, and thoughts of the future.

  #

  Lain and Sorrel spoke for a long time. They spoke with hope and enthusiasm of things to come and lands awaiting them. The journey would be an unpleasant one, but they would be making it together. As the minutes rolled on, though the part of each creature that had become sensitive to bad omens and festering plans began to invade their sanctuary. Lain was forced to pull his mind from the bliss and back to reality.

  “Gohveen . . . something is wrong,” Sorrel stated.

  “Yes. It has been well over an hour. The ship should have been on its way by now,” he said.

  She tightened her fists. “It is fine. It will be fine. They are still loading, something like that.” She spoke hopefully, but there was doubt in her voice.

  “We shall see.”

  Lain pulled his sword from its scabbard and passed the blade between the slats on the latch end of the cage door. It was a simple door, built to keep wild animals inside, and as such it was locked by way of a simple hinged brace that was easily lifted aside. Lain quietly pushed the cage door open enough to squeeze out. He closed the cage again and climbed on top, pressing his sensitive ear to the ceiling. Hearing nothing of specific concern above, he put his ear to the ventilation slit.

  “What is it?” Sorrel asked.

  He closed his eyes. “Raised voices. Someone on the deck of the next ship over is arguing.”

  “About what?”

  “The captain of the ship is demanding to see an official proclamation of some kind. The other man says he doesn't need one . . . that voice.”

  “What? Who is it?”

  Before Lain could answer, the sound of the hidden plank being pulled aside drew their attention.

  “Mally!” hissed Goldie's voice, whispering through the opening. “We've got trouble. I don't know why, but the man responsible for half of my shipments is on the docks. He is demanding each ship let him personally inspect the hold. He is looking for malthropes!”

  “Duule!”

  “You know of him?”

  “I claimed the bounty on him once.”

  “That was you!? Did you feel as though there weren't enough people who wanted you dead? No matter. This is a problem. He's got blood in his eyes, I can feel it. I hesitate to think of what will happen to me and my crew, let alone the lot of you, if he finds out we are hiding you.”

  “Take the ship away! Take it to sea! We can run!” Sorrel urged.

  “The harbor patrol is in his pocket. They are holding us here, and he could easily close this harbor if he felt the need. Somehow he is convinced there is a malthrope on board one of these ships.”

  The hidden door slid open, and Goldie found himself face to face with Lain, startling the already frantic elf.

  “The deal is off. You may have saved my life seven years ago, but it is no good to me if I lose it now. He won't rest until he finds a malthrope, and I'll be damned if I let him find it on one of my ships.”

  Lain lowered his head. “If he will not rest until he finds a malthrope, then we must give him one,” he said. “I will make my way onto the ship he is trying to search now, and I will draw his men away.”

  “No!” Sorrel gasped.

  “It . . . may work. I might be able to get this ship moving once Duule is off the docks, but you'll have to keep him off the docks until we pass the harbor buoys. If he suspects we've still got something to hide, a few rings of the harbor bells and we'll be stopped and brought back.”

  “Fine.”

  “No, Teyn, we will find another way!” Sorrel cried.

  Lain pulled open the cage and held Sorrel one last time. “I am sorry. It has to be this way. Men like Duule are everywhere, and threats like this will always follow me. I can't go with you if it means I would bring that upon you. At least let me ensure that you have your chance.”

  Sorrel choked back tears and took his hand, pressing it to her cheek. “If ever I meet the gods, I will demand that they tell me what you could have done to anger them so.” Finally, she turned to the twins, who were huddled fearfully in the corner. She called to them, her voice faltering. “Wren, Reyna. Come. Say goodbye to Teyn. Say thank you.”

  The little ones came reluctantly forward, and Lain crouched to meet them eye to eye. Though he doubted they understood what was happening, tears were in their eyes as well. He lowered his head, and the children lowered theirs, pressing their brows against his as he stroked their heads one last time. He held the moment for as long as he dared, then stood and looked to Sorrel.

  “Live well,” he said. He then pulled his hood up and darted through the cargo hold.

  His heart was screaming in pain, and his vision was blurred with tears, but he forced it all aside. There was a job to do now, more important than he'd ever done before. His motions were fluid and flawless as he weaved his way to the decks. The eyes of the sailors were turned to the spectacle on the deck of the ship being boarded by Duule. All eyes were watching the escalation on its decks. It was that alone that kept him from view as he threaded among the canvas-strapped crates and bundles littering the deck and made his way to the edge of The Path of the Sun. Cutting along the railing and charging for the back of the ship, he spotted the loading arms that had hoisted Sorrel's crate to the ship. The ropes were still dangling from their ends.

  His mind worked at the angles, and with a confident leap he hurled himself of the edge of the ship, catching the rope on the way down and swinging in a long arc over the water. He released the rope at a calculated moment and hurtled through the air, catching the anchor line of the ship currently under scrutiny. With ease, he scaled the line and the side of the ship, pulling himself onto the deck. The screaming of the captain and Duule was still enough to keep the monster among the crew from immediately gaining notice.

  Duule was standing, flanked by towering henchmen. To his left was Dihsaad, the tracker's hand clutching at the leashes of three hounds with noses to the ground. Lain silently heaved open a chest on the deck. It was filled with coiled rope, but there was just enough space to conceal him. He slipped inside and waited to be discovered.

  “Listen to me,” Duule growled. “I don't care who you are or what rights you think you have. If you value your life, you will stand aside and let my men search your ship.”

  “This is an outrage! Why would I harbor a malthrope?” demanded the captain.

  “It may have boarded your ship without your notice. This creature is wily,” remarked Dihsaad.

  The hounds began to bay and pull at their leashes.

  “And what is this?” Duule fumed. He turned to his men. “I am through being civil. Clear the way.”

  His men descended on the assembled sailors, shoving the smaller men aside and threatening the larger ones. Voices began to rise and blades were drawn as Duule's men further intruded, but he commanded them forward. Finally, Dihsaad's hounds reached the chest, scratching at it and howling.

  “Open it!” Duule ordered.

  The nearest of the henchmen reached for the lid, but before he could touch it Lain burst from within. Chaos erupted. Duule and the captain alike screamed orders at their men. Lain sprinted across the deck, his own weapon still in its scabbard. Duule directed his men forward, charging after the beast. Dihsaad released his hounds, which eagerly made chase. By the time Lain made it to the streets, it seemed that half of Delti had converged there to see the cause of the commotion.

  With one vaulting leap, he grasped the edge of a low roof and hauled himself up, springing from building to building in plain sight but out of reach.

  #

  Goldie reached the deck of The Path of the Sun just in time to see Lain vanish into the thick of the city, a veritable mob on his heels. He scanned the decks of the ship until he spotted the captain at the top of the gangplank.

  “Ho there! What is keeping us in port? We are losing the day!” Goldie called out.

  A greasy-looking thug on the dock side of the gangplank answered. “I am keeping you here until Duule
says otherwise.”

  “With all due respect, sir,” Goldie began, marching over to Duule's lackey, “I would think by now that it was clear that Duule found what he was looking for.”

  “You don't leave until he says so.”

  “He was looking for a malthrope. He found it on the other ship. Do you honestly think he would find another one here? The filthy things aren't exactly a valued export.”

  “You stay.”

  Goldie looked desperately to the horizon, then back to the lackey. “You represent Duule's interests, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  The elf stepped close, speaking so that only the man could hear. “The hull of this ship is stuffed with, among other things, a king's ransom of contraband being sold by Duule himself. Much of it is perishable, and all of it is worth more than your life or mine. Now, do you see that dark patch in the sky to the northeast? That is a storm. A storm we are hoping to beat. If you delay us any longer, we will sail through that patch of bad weather. Perhaps it will delay us, and half of our shipment will spoil. Perhaps it will sink us, and all of that precious cargo will be lost. Duule knows you are holding this boat, correct?”

  The man nodded.

  “Then he will know that it was your fault that it was delayed. Now, which do you think he would prefer: earning a fortune because you wisely let us go, or losing a fortune because you held us to allow him to search for something he'd already found?”

  It did not take the man long to come to a decision.

  “You're all right. Head out!”

  “Wise decision,” Goldie commended, signaling the captain.

  #

  Lain's retreat took him to the edge of the city. It was a tricky thing to keep far enough ahead to avoid capture but near enough to keep the pursuers on his tail. Some of Duule's men were armed with crossbows—and, unlike other times that he'd been pursued by similarly-equipped individuals, they were not shy about firing them when innocents might be caught in the crossfire. He quickened his pace, heading for a row of bluffs to the north of the city. There, at least, stray shots would not find their way into a crowd. When this day was through, he would have enough blood on his hands without having to worry about people whose only crime was standing too near.