Windcatcher: Book I of the Stone War Chronicles

by A. J. Norfield

  “You’re right, and from the looks of it, it is heading this way! Go down and tell the others. It will give them time to get ready. I will keep an eye on it and confirm it’s one of ours. It should be here by the end of the afternoon, I expect. I’ll be down after that.”

  As Galirras left, Raylan felt wide awake. If this was their ship, they could finally get out of there. No more sleeping with one eye open, no more jumping at the snap of a twig in the forest, and no more of that mysterious southern sound.

  As the ship approached his lookout post, he recognized more of its shape. It appeared to be a caravel. Two large towers at the stern castle and one small one up front, near the forecastle, about eighty feet long. They are quick, light ships, able to move into the wind—if necessary—with their triangle sails. Its wide, rounded deck lay high in the water; it was obviously traveling light, for speed. The main deck was narrow, but would be enough to put a dragon on, Raylan assessed, right away.

  Two small ballistae could be seen on the port and starboard sides of the ship. Another was on the bow. It looked like the ship was used either for hunting small whales, or to catch up to and overtake pirate ships. They could harpoon other ships and reel them in, and they could outmaneuver enemy ships with their speed and agility.

  The ship was finally close enough for Raylan to spot people on deck, but just barely. The ship was a busy scene of people running back and forth. Strong winds blowing to the south allowed them to make excellent speed, but also required all hands on deck, especially given the treacherous waters near the cliffs.

  The waters round the Drowned Man’s Fork were known amongst all serious sailors. Those who tried to sail round the Dark Continent, looking for trade routes and unknown riches, knew to steer clear of the three pillars. Stories of the strong currents swirling around them, the difficult wind directions often blowing toward the deadly waters and underwater rocks much further away from land than one would expect, were brought back over time only by the luckiest of men. Any good captain would do well to heed their warning. It seemed this captain was fully aware of the dangers, as they veered off south, well in advance of perilous waters.

  The caravel’s shallow depth allowed it to move more easily along the hidden rocks. Raylan saw it turn toward the south, as it finally showed the colors it was sailing under. Raylan’s heart jumped with joy as he recognized the banner of the Aeterran Kingdom high up in the mast. The flag carried four symbols in total. Three represented the royal families, who together had formed Aeterra more than a hundred years ago.

  The bow, for the northern royal family of Dahales, who were considered to excel in the art of archery. The sickled moon, which represented the western royal family of Shid’el, who had ruled the region of the Crescent Moon Massif with its endless farmlands. The ship, for the eastern royal family of Thyraulos, whom had ruled the harbor area of Azurna, their destination, and also home to the best sailors in the world. And lastly a crown, to represent the current ruling king. The royal symbols were divided by a cross made up from three swords pointing toward the middle, with a fourth sword pointing upward, representing the support of the families for the unified kingdom of Aeterra.

  Raylan knew enough. Abandoning his post, he ran back toward the rock wall. He descended as fast as he could, but had to slow down after almost losing his grip on the steep wall.

  As he jumped the last few feet, he saw the camp, buzzing with activity. Gavin came running up to him.

  “Please, tell me it’s good news,” he said.

  “Aeterran banner…south side,” Raylan panted, while nodding. “They should be coming into view by the time we get to the south cliffs.”

  Gavin turned to the group, right away.

  “Peadar, pack those herbs…the rest, finish up packing. We’re going home. South cliffs, it is,” he called out. “Let’s make sure they don’t have to be anchored for long, especially with the enemies still looking for us…”

  “Where’s Galirras?” Raylan asked, as he looked around.

  “I am here,” said the dragon, in his mind, as he came in low over the trees. He retracted his wings during his approach, moving between a few of the trees and touched down, skidding to a halt. In his jaws, he had a bloody sea lion.

  Gavin turned back at the same time, not knowing Galirras had already replied.

  “He went to get a final meal. We don’t know what the supplies will be on the ship and if they have calculated enough for a hungry, growing dragon,” he said. “Galirras, I suggest you eat your fill and give any leftovers to Kevhin, to cut up and pack for us. We’ll be leaving soon.”

  Corza sat, staring at the map in front of him. Outside, the yard was a constant sound of hammering, sawing and shouting.

  “Tell me, captain. How is it possible that you’ve lost track of them once again?”

  The man, standing at attention, knew better than to answer that; no answer would be satisfactory for the mood the High General was in.

  Corza had been planning ways to throw out his net and acquire his dragon. As it was obvious from the reports the animal had already hatched by now, it would probably be a little bit harder to train; but he was sure he could manage.

  But to catch it, you had to find it, first. His men had spent weeks searching the surroundings of the lake, but it seemed to him, the group had already moved on.

  “The key,” he said to the captain, “is figuring out what they aim to do. Why travel south? Do they know about the southern mines? Are they gathering information on the gathering of our forces? Do they have a boat hidden?”

  “Perhaps they plan to fly that dragon back home,” joked the captain, in a momentary lapse of sanity.

  “You find this funny? You’ve been outwitted by these people. You think it’s a joke that they can roam around freely with this much at stake?”

  “No, sir…my apologies, sir…”

  He pointed on the map to west of the lake.

  “I want this entire coastline, going north, checked by you, personally. Perhaps they doubled back. It would not be the first time. Send out birds to these five forest fortresses. I want people on this by the end of today. Meet up with each of them and keep me informed by bird letter.”

  Corza looked at the map again.

  “…and send out a ship, north of the trident. I need to know if they have a ship waiting, somewhere.”

  The captain made haste to get out of there, before his mouth got him into more trouble.

  There was a knock on the door.

  “You wished to see me, High General Setra?”

  “Ah, Colonel Mercar, come on in. How are preparations going?”

  “All on schedule, sir. Our ships are being prepped for departure and should be ready to go within two days.”

  “Good, good. How many ships are currently finished?”

  “Eighty-three ships are seaworthy and stocked for the voyage. Another twenty special windships are also completed. Some still need to receive their coat of paint, but all of the sails have been made dark. None of the boats will easily be spotted at night, if we run without lights. Work will continue, after we leave, on the second wave of ships, of course.”

  Corza looked over the documents which lay before him.

  “Excellent. High General Cale and High General Nodak will be leading the other flotillas. Adding to their numbers, we’ll have a total of three hundred fourteen ships departing, accompanied with seventy windships. Each ship will be able to land three platoons of foot men, plus they’ll have fifteen ghol’ms in the hold. The windships hold a smaller crew of half a platoon and ten ghol’ms—two in use. That together should give us an invasion force of roughly forty thousand men and six thousand ghol’ms. That will be sufficient for our first phase. The second run will roughly double that.”

  “Yes sir, it seems preparations are going well.”

  Corza scoffed at this inside. He had little time left, or he would be forced to choose between leading the invasion or staying behind to figure out what happened
to the dragon.

  “Yes, the Stone King will be pleased to see his invasion plans are right on schedule,” he added, coldly.

  “Speaking of which, sir…if I may be so frank, I was wondering if Lord Rictor will join us for the invasion?” asked the colonel, carefully.

  “Don’t be stupid. The Stone King has no reason to attend these initial stages of the invasion. I’m sure he’ll join our ranks when he finds it appropriate,” replied Corza.

  And the longer he stays away the better.

  There was a knock on the door.

  “Go away we’re busy!” Corza yelled, annoyed.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but it is urgent,” a soldier spoke through the door.

  Corza let out a sigh.

  “Fine, come in.”

  The soldier quickly opened the door and entered the room.

  “What is it?” growled Corza.

  “A ship, sir. It approaches…moving south just under the trident’s cape. It’s not one of ours...sir.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “Positive. All our ships are accounted for. It is also a lighter design than our own…what are your orders?”

  Corza looked at the map again.

  “That’s it…the ship is here for them…that’s why they’ve been moving south…”

  “Sorry…sir?” said the soldier, not understanding.

  “Colonel Mercar, take the ‘Firestorm’ and get rid of it. No survivors.”

  The colonel slammed his fist against his chest and went out to prepare for departure, right away.

  “You…go find Captain Sellock. Tell him to send another batch of men down south along the coast. I want to make sure our wandering friends have no place to hold up.”

  Raylan and the others were sitting below the tree line, following the ship. Galirras pushed himself flat to the ground to stay out of sight as much as possible. One could not just fly a dragon onto the ship. The crew would either fight or flee, at first sight. They would have to first explain the situation and prepare the captain.

  “Is the fire almost ready?” asked Gavin.

  “Almost,” replied Peadar.

  “Alright they’re about to lay anchor,” said Ca’lek.

  Raylan peered down over the cliffs edge.

  “Are you certain about this Gavin?” he said.

  “It’s either that or track for half a day to find lower ground. I estimate it’ll be fine. The cliffs are not that high on this side anymore, and the waves run parallel to them, which means little chance to be pushed against the rocks. Besides, you said it yourself, the water looks deep enough and all of us can swim sufficiently.”

  Raylan looked at his brother with skepticism.

  “So, as soon as the rowboat is in range, I’ll jump down and meet with the captain…he should know me. Once I give the signal, the next four will jump and meet up with the boat. A second trip will pick up the rest and that will give me time to prepare the crew for Galirras’ arrival with our packs. He can just fly over. It’s the quickest way I can come up with to get out of here,” continued Gavin.

  He looked around to see if anyone had any final objections.

  “Alright, Peadar…start the fir...”

  “Wait! What’s that?” Ca’lek called out, as soft as possible.

  “What? What do you see?” came the whispers, from multiple people, at the same time.

  “There, the second inlet, just behind the tree cover.”

  Raylan peered toward the trees Ca’lek pointed out. He did not see anything.

  “There!” said Ca’lek.

  Now Raylan saw it, too, a movement just behind the top of the trees. He could not believe his eyes as he saw a shape slowly rise from behind the trees.

  “Is that…a…ship?” he stammered. “How can it be flying like that?”

  “I did not know ships could fly,” remarked Galirras.

  “They can’t…shouldn’t…” said Raylan.

  The ship rose above the trees, turning toward them. It seemed quite a bit longer in size than the caravel. There were small sails to the side of it and one triangle sail at the bow, but few were in use at the moment. The main sail had been replaced by a giant bag filled with air, it seemed. It was held in place by netting across the entire length of the ship. It looked like a much bigger version of the market tricks Raylan had seen as a kid. A sack or bladder would be filled with hot air and allowed to freely float off into the sky, where it would come crashing down once the air inside escaped. The curious figure showing his tricks had called them balloons. This flying ship seemed to have a very large version of such a balloon. To the side of the massive balloon, cloths waved in the wind. The balloon, being point-shaped, stretched out at the bow and stern, for quite a number of feet.

  The woodwork was elegant but simplistic. Raylan easily saw, from experience, this boat was designed for practical use. No luxury, but the workmanship had been done by skilled hands. The wood had been darkened, being somewhere between deep brown and black. Even the sails were not your normal white, but a gray-black. The bottom of the ship was equal to any seafaring vessel; it even had a rudder, but at the back were two strange wheels, or rather, flattened blades positioned in a circle. They turned at high speed.

  “Those blades move a lot of air,” said Galirras, “I can see the spiral of air moving behind it.”

  In a short time, the flying ship was right upon the caravel. They saw the crew on deck, looking at the spectacle, some ran around, the captain shouted orders. Four men took place at the ballistae, two on each. Crossbows were handed out amongst the crew. After all, they were near enemy territory and one could not take any chances.

  They now saw people moving on the deck of the flying ship. They seemed to ignore the shouting from the caravel crew below and worked their assigned tasks.

  As the flying ship approached the anchored caravel from above, Raylan saw multiple hatches open on the side. Small plank gutters were positioned out of the hatches.

  Just before the flying ship turned to port, the captain of the caravel gave an order to send a warning salvo. The crew of the caravel released their shots, while large, round-shaped packs were slid out of the hatches. Each the size of a small barrel, they fell toward the caravel below.

  The arrows from the Aeterran crew flew upward. A few hit the bottom of the flying ship, others went up toward the balloon. But before they hit, the arrows got tangled up in the waving cloths loosely stretched on the sides of the ship. Clearly they were designed and placed for precisely the deterrence of such an onslaught. The ballistae had been designed to shoot horizontally, so the larger harpoon, which might have pierced the cloths and balloon, was not able to fire high enough to even try.

  At the same time, the sacks hit the anchored ship or water close to the ship. On impact, they split apart, breaking the leathery skin, spraying an oily substance everywhere. The sails turned dark, the deck became instantly covered. Oil streaks floated on the water. On its run past the caravel, the flying ship dropped a dozen sacks, filled with the oil, in one fluent motion.

  As the ship in the air turned away from the caravel, Raylan saw a final hatch already open on the stern of the ship. As it passed, a large barrel was shoved out of the hatch. He recognized the familiar orange color of fire burning, as the barrel tumbled downward.

  The caravel crew was in disarray by the unexpected turn of events. They could not react fast enough to avoid the barrel. On impact with the main deck, it became clear the barrel had not contained coals or wood stoking the flames it carried; rather, it was another dose of oil, and as it hit and shattered, a massive fireball consumed the entire caravel.

  The sails burned away instantly, people were thrown backward by the force of the explosion. Sailors that had been covered in the oil immediately caught fire. A number of the crew were blown overboard into the water. It might have brought relief to hit the water, had the entire surrounding sea not also been one great burning inferno.

  Raylan heard the screams of the bur
ning men. The initial explosion had been so bright, they had to divert their eyes, except for Galirras, who had instinctively closed one set of his eyelids and witnessed the entire thing. Later, he would solemnly comment on the dreadful image of sailors literally being ripped apart by the force of the fireball.

  It seemed over in a heartbeat. All of them were holding their breaths, in shock, as they saw their only chance of escape go up in flames.

  “We have to help them,” said Galirras, as he readied himself to take off.

  “No wait!” shouted Raylan. “It’s too late…”

  “But I can still see some of them moving,” Galirras pleaded.

  “No, Raylan is right. They won’t survive those burns, even if we are able to pull some of them out of the sea…and…we can’t be discovered……I’m sorry,” added Gavin.

  Raylan clenched his fists.

  As they watched, they saw the flying ship turn around once more and do another pass. Another two sacks were dumped overboard toward the burning ship, creating smaller fireballs, ripping the caravel apart. Over the rail, and from the hatches, a number of men leaned out with crossbows and spears, picking off anyone that still moved on the ship or in the water.

  It was clear they meant to leave no one alive.

  “We need to get out of here,” said Xi’Lao, who had quietly moved over to them. “There is nothing we can do here and we must stay out of sight.”

  As they retreated, back under the cover of the trees to where they had left the horses, they saw the flying ship turn back in the direction it had come from. Before long, it disappeared back into the inlet further south, as if it had never been there. The remains of the burning caravel sank shortly after, leaving only some debris and corpses floating around.

  That night, they all sat quietly around a small campfire. It had begun raining again, dampening an already dark mood. They had just seen their hope of returning to Aeterra sink down to the bottom of the sea. The idea of going back north and finding their way home over land, looked unpleasantly long. It would mean moving back through dangerous territory…territory which Gavin was sure the enemy would be watching like a hawk.