“There has to be a reason,” Tyler slurred through bruised lips. “Think, Tyler. Think!”
He stumbled to his feet and swung around. Irrian thrust a dagger into his heart.
There was never a pain so terrible as this. Slowly Tyler sunk to his knees, mouth open and heart stopped. Irrian was staring down at him with wild eyes, which became wide and clear as Tyler’s own turned dark.
“By the Gods,” Irrian whispered, “what have I done?”
He lifted a shaking hand so that blood was smeared on Tyler’s brow. In his last moment, Tyler looked down at the dagger that protruded from his chest. The hilt was carved with leaping dolphins. He understood.
His eyes burned. Tyler collapsed onto the deck, his jaw so clenched in agony that it was a wonder his teeth did not crack. It took him a good while before he found the courage to peer from under the safety of his eyelids. The burns he had received, although severe, were not as great a problem as the sudden intensity of his hunger and thirst.
He was still aboard The Eye of the World and was looking at the Ursula-creature. In real life she was not remotely beautiful. Her body was a wizened heap of loose limbs, a face of sunken wrinkles. Beside her lay a broken oar and a shattered image of jumping dolphins carved on a fragmented piece of wood.
Thorfinn and the entire crew were on their feet, motionless and staring. With a long groan Tyler struggled upwards and made his way over to Thorfinn. He pushed the captain as hard as he could, shook him. Thorfinn’s expression didn’t so much as flicker.
“How?”
Tyler jumped with shock and spun around. The monstrosity that was Ursula was trying to speak, her lips cracking with effort. Its enormous, pale white eyes widened further in their shallow sockets.
He realised what he had to do. Grimacing, he stumbled over to the monster and lifted her wasted body up into his arms, struggling more than he should have due to lack of food or water. He limped to the edge of the deck before casting one last glance down to Ursula’s face, which breathed unbearably close to his.
“How?” the thing rasped again, with horrible despair.
Tyler dropped her over the side.
The whole crew fell silently to their knees. Some clutched their eyes, and others clawed at their throats. No one could voice their pain because their mouths were parched from lack of water. Tyler hobbled away to find some. At the first barrel he came to, he drank so deeply that he thought he would never stop. After grabbing two nearby buckets, he filled them to the brim and hurried back to the crew.
Some managed to drink without help; others had to have the water forced down their throats. In the end all but two survived. When Thorfinn had recovered, he smiled weakly from where he lay and raised a shaking hand to Tyler’s cheek.
“I know you saved us, boy,” he whispered dryly. “I don’t know from what or how, but I know you did.”
Several hours later, Tyler recounted his story in the dining room. He had eaten a fairly large meal and felt much better for it. About fifteen sailors, including Thorfinn, Irrian, Kol, Odinn, Orio, and Haranio, sat or stood around him, listening with rapt attention. With great care Tyler explained his story, but by the end some appeared even more confused than before.
“What does this all mean?” asked Kol, perplexed by Tyler’s tale. “I don’t pretend that I understand.”
“It means that not a single event in the past few days really happened. Right, Tyler?” said Thorfinn softly. “From the moment we found Ursula aboard The Sparrow and brought her onto The Eye of the World. The island, the camp – it all only existed in our minds. She somehow hypnotised us.”
Tyler nodded.
“And the oars and the dolphins?” prompted Kol. “How does that fit in?”
“I think Ursula had to make sure that our eyes remained fixed open for the entire time we were under her trance. Because of this, an object which was in our vision in the real world could conceivably slip into the dream.”
“I never saw any oars or leaping dolphins,” murmured Odinn. The rest nodded in agreement.
“Because I threatened to break free from the creature’s dream-world, sometimes bits of the real world and bits of hers sort of got mixed up.”
“Why you?” asked Orio, whose pale skin had been burnt to such a deep red that he emitted his own red glow into the dim room. “How did you manage to escape?”
Tyler shrugged.
Thorfinn chuckled and rose to his feet. “It was Avalon’s Blessing that did it! It was Avalon’s Blessing that saved all of our lives. Without Tyler, that creature would have held us all in its grasp until we perished from hunger and thirst – a fate which I’m sure has befallen many a crew before, including those poor souls who sailed with The Sparrow. Who can doubt you now, Tyler? Thank you for saving all our lives.”
Although he was tired, Tyler could not sleep that night. Finally he gave up his restless turning and made his way onto the deck, where he strolled aimlessly in the crisp night air. Soon it became apparent that he was not the only one who could not sleep. As Tyler approached the stern of the ship, his eye caught a figure leaning resignedly against the outer rail.
It was Irrian. The handsome young man looked depressed, and his face was drawn and grey. It was as though he had aged a decade since that wondrous night when he had sung of Tryton and Loar.
“Irrian!” called Tyler happily. “I’ve never seen you up here at this time of night.”
Irrian smiled, wearily. “Tyler, I am glad you came. I’ve been waiting here for a while in the hope that you would. I know you sometimes walk the decks at night.” Irrian’s forehead furrowed even more heavily than before. “I owe you my life, and yet I nearly ended yours …”
Tyler waved his hand with forgiveness. He hadn’t even considered that Irrian might be feeling guilty.
“Irrian, please. It was all a dream, a twisted fantasy created by a demon. You cannot be blamed for falling into its trap.”
“No,” he said so forcefully that Tyler flinched. When Irrian raised his eyes, their smouldering intensity was plain. “I betrayed you. You must understand what that means. I had no idea it was a dream – I thought it was real. I stabbed a dagger into your heart and watched you die in my arms. I am ashamed to ask for your forgiveness. I am forever in your debt.”
Tyler took a step forward. “Irrian, stop! You weren’t to know. I myself was driven to madness by the creature. She was playing with us, Irrian. Our feelings, our emotions.”
“What I did was unforgivable, Tyler.” Here the young man fell to one knee. “There is but one way I feel I can retain my honour. I am at your service, Tyler Finch. I give you my oath.”
Tyler felt a knot tighten in his stomach. He did not want this. Couldn’t Irrian understand that he had forgiven him? But Irrian continued to kneel, head bowed in submission. “I do not accept your oath, Irrian. Please live as you choose. Do not be bound forever to my side for something that was not your fault. I release you from your oath.”
Irrian flinched at Tyler’s words but quickly rose to his feet with renewed vigour. “Then I will choose to follow and protect you, as a free man chooses! I swear this for as long as I live.”
“Irrian, I bear no grudge against you. You may do whatever you please.”
Irrian’s eyes fixed on Tyler’s own. His breathing was heavy, and his face was more flushed with life than a moment before. “Tyler, you are a great man. I tried to murder you, and yet you can forgive me without a thought. Never have I known such kindness.”
He embraced Tyler to hide his tears.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SHIPS OF WAR
“The Albatross’s Wing! The Albatross’s Wing and The Seal are coming!”
Tyler was out of bed in a flash and pulled a shirt over his head. He scaled the ladder to the deck. After stepping hurriedly between the bustling crew member, he spotted Thorfinn, hands lock
ed upon his hips, eyes transfixed across the sea.
“Tyler, today holds promise! I’m getting my ships back, and you’ll see your ghatu friend,” he said with delight.
Tyler looked out over the heaving waves. The Albatross’s Wing and The Seal were far in the distance but sailing at full speed towards them, all sails billowed to the wind. He would very much like to see Varkon again; it had been a long time.
A shadow flitted at the horizon, and Tyler narrowed his eyes. It was a sail, stained with sudden black. Another appeared, and another …
“Thorfinn!” came the choked cry from the crow’s nest. “Six ships in pursuit of The Albatross’s Wing and The Seal!”
“The Dhimori follows you across the waves, boy. He is about to find out that was a mistake. The sea is mine.” A fierce determination came alight in Thorfinn’s eyes, and he turned on his heel and strode away, barking sharp orders as he went. Apparently he was unconcerned that the odds were stacked greatly against him – six ships against his measly three.
Tyler stood where Thorfinn had left him, in the thrashing wind, watching the six black sails. He thought he had escaped the Dhimori. He should have realised that nothing was a boundary to Him – not his dreams, and certainly not the sea. He cupped his hands over his mouth and opened it in a silent scream of frustration, which he hoped nobody else could see.
A hand touched his shoulder; it was Odinn. “Lad, it’ll do you no good to stand around up here feelin’ sorry for yourself. Come with me now. I’m to prep the cannons.”
Tyler nodded and followed the big man down the ladder to the hold. A row of dull cannons glowed metallically in the near dark. Tyler felt a hint of pride; it was he who had polished their stern metal so well. Odinn strode to the nearest one and knelt.
“Come over here, boy.” Tyler squatted beside Odinn, trying to adjust his eyes to the gloom. “Now,” Odinn murmured as he fondly stroked the bulbous back of the cannon. “Although you’ve worked over those things a dozen times each with a hard brush and grease, I bet you don’t know the first thing about them, do ya?” Tyler shook his head.
“Well I’m going to show you how to prepare this one, and then we’ll split up and check this whole side of the ship. All you have to do is make sure there are about seven or eight cannonballs beside each cannon, and see that each one is properly tied to this.” Odinn ran his fingers off the cannon and along a thick rope attached to the back of it. “You see, if the cannon is fired without being tied to this old gal here, then boom!” He spread his arms to demonstrate. “The whole thing gets flung back from the recoil, and it’ll probably end up making a hole on the other side of the ship! So we’d best be sure to do a good job, or we’ll be getting an unpleasant draught coming through!”
There were twenty cannons to check. Tyler couldn’t find any that weren’t properly secured, or that didn’t have enough ammunition, but he felt much better doing something instead of simply sitting around waiting for the Dhimori. He was grateful to Odinn. The man wasn’t too bright, but he had a good heart which he wore on his sleeve when he took a liking to somebody.
And so it was that a sweaty, grease-stained, but far more energetic Tyler returned up to the deck. The sails had been folded against the mast, which meant the ship couldn’t be sailing forward. They weren’t running away. He pushed through to the stern. The Albatrosses Wing and The Seal were almost alongside them, and the enemy fleet pursued closely on their heels.
“All of you, listen! Stop what you’re doing and listen to me!” Thorfinn was at the centre of the ship, straddling a great mound of coiled rope. The commander held out his hands for silence, which everyone gave. “I know you all. I can name your fathers, mothers, wives, and girlfriend. I know you all because I think of you as brothers. No, we are not of the same blood. I say we are bound by something stronger. Every man aboard would give his life to preserve that which matters most to him: this life he leads, this ship he sails, his fellow men who fight beside him. Let all here know that I would lay down my life to protect each one of you as equally as I would lay down my life to protect my family. Today we will live or die together – as brothers!”
The cry that followed was deafening. In that instant the fumbling crewmembers become hardened warriors. Tyler raised his fists to the sky with the rest.
“Now, let us make our stand!” bellowed Thorfinn. He leapt from his podium of rope to land with a bang on the buckling decks. “Unfold the sails. Timing is of the essence. We must come to bear precisely alongside The Albatross’s Wing and The Seal.”
The crew dashed about, hauling on ropes and securing knots. The white sail began to unfurl.
“Tyler! Where are you?” called out Thorfinn. “You’ll need a weapon, boy.”
“I’ll see to it that he gets done right, Thorfinn,” said Kol.
Tyler inwardly scowled as the scarred madman led the way through the bustle to the foredeck. There, lying splayed in a mighty mound, was an impressive array of swords, daggers, bows, arrows, spears, axes, and other twisted instruments, all glinting meanly along their steel shafts. A stack of armour lay in a separate, rusted pile.
Tyler was intrigued but at a loss. “I have no skill with any weapon.”
“Pity,” said Kol. “But you may as well take one anyway, and some armour, too. Something light, I think, not too weighty on the shoulders. Let’s see … How about this?” Kol pulled up a leather chest plate. It looked heavy to Tyler, but in comparison to the alternatives, perhaps it wasn’t so bad. Kol turned to leave.
“Wait!” Tyler blurted. He had to know. “Did you kill Ottar? Did you try to kill me?”
Kol’s jaw clenched. “Yes, but I was a fool. Your death would have ended the promise of our ancestors, that of Avalon’s Blessing.” Kol lowered his head. “I go now to pay for my mistakes. I will protect you, Tyler Finch. I promise I will not fail you again.” Then without looking Tyler in the eyes, Kol strode away. Tyler watched his back disappear amongst the crowd. He did not know what to say.
The sail unfurled and ripped against the wind above him. The wind beat out its form, driving the ship forward along with it. The Albatross’s Wing and The Seal pulled up alongside The Eye of the World, their keels smashing edged waves in short bursts of spray. It was possible to make out the crew on either ship, shouting and waving energetically. Tyler strained his eye for Varkon, but he wasn’t part of the throng.
Quickly he slipped the leather armour he had been given over his head. It was too large and heavy, but it would have to do. Another moment’s careful consideration saw him select a short sword, which he judged to have a sharp enough blade. He gripped it tightly in both hands.
This was it, the final stand. If Avalon’s Blessing was worth anything, he hoped it would show now. He would fight until the end for Hargill because of a promise made for his friends and family: Uncle Jarith, Derek, Meg, Gibbs, Hargill, Annie, Glivin, old Trandle … He would avenge them all today. He marched once more to the ship’s stern.
The six enemy ships were close behind. Ghatu teemed over their decks like ants, their awful cries faintly audible. The Dhimori was near. Tyler could tell by the coldness in his breath and the shiver in his heart.
“I SEE YOU, AVALON.” A scaled hand of spikes reached out towards him.
Tyler shook his head clear of the images. He would not let the monster pollute his mind.
“Hirrug, release the boat!” bellowed Thorfinn.
His command was repeated further up towards the front of the ship, and a moment later a small rowing boat appeared in the wake of The Eye of the World, bobbing in the foam. At its centre was a large pile of swirling, grey dust.
“Archers!” prompted Thorfinn. About twenty men stood forward. “Ready your arrows! Remember, timing is everything. We must be accurate.”
The archers lifted their bows and placed arrows tipped with oiled rags at the ready. A crew member ran past with a blazing torch.
As he passed, he touched each archer’s greasy arrow tip against the flames. Finally twenty arrows were ready, raging with fire.
“Steady,” called Thorfinn as he raised his hand.
The heat from the arrows furrowed the archers’ brows with beads of sweat. Tyler noticed that Kol was one of these men, and his eyes seemed to burn just as brightly as the flame he carried.
“Ready …” cried Thorfinn.
The small rowing boat bobbed ever closer to the oncoming ships of black.
“Fire!” Thorfinn thrust down his hand.
There was a frightening hiss as twenty arrows leapt at the air in twenty streak flame. They curved in a yellow rainbow of fire and smoke before slowing their ascent and slipping downwards. Down, down they headed to plunge into the sea. All twenty arrows slapped into the choppy waves. Everyone had missed.
“Don’t worry, lads, you did your best,” growled a disappointed Thorfinn.
Kol strode forward and thrust another of his arrows into the flames. He gazed over the sea and pulled his arrow back so far that his knuckles audibly sizzled in the heat of the fire. His long scar pulsed like a separate vein. The ship fell quiet as all paused to watch. Kol released.
His arrow screamed through the wind, slowed, and then plummeted in a sure arc straight into the centre of the small rowing-boat.
A hot ball of vengeful flame exploded across the waves. A hole ripped into the side of the closest enemy ship. Its sail caught alight with pitiless flame, and the ghatu aboard leapt into the sea, screaming as they fell.
“Never in my life have I witnessed such a shot,” called Thorfinn with pride. “Kol Grimblade, the first blow to the enemy was yours!” The resulting cheer was deafening.
“The explosion was caused by the gunpowder. We load the same into the cannons.” Tyler turned to find Irrian standing behind him, a wry smile tipping at his lips. “I’ve been searching for you, Tyler. I’m staying with you until the end.”
“How can I argue with that?” Tyler laughed as he saw the determination in Irrian’s face with a lighter heart turned once again to the sea. The remaining enemy vessels steered determinedly around the smoking destruction of their former ship. The odds were better now, five against three. Tyler grinned with the madness of the moment.
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