by CM Raymond
“Huh,” Abbey grunted. “I suppose you might have a point there, old man.”
“Still sounds soft to me.” Syd nudged Benjamin. "You need to toughen up. Maybe you'd like to take another voyage or two on Storm Warrior?"
"Not in the least, although it would beat those council meetings." Ever since their return Benjamin had been working closely with the magistrate, a fact some in Holdgate were none too happy about. While they tolerated the existence of the Arcadian native in their city, partly due to his daughter's hero status, having an Arcadian help run their government was a bridge too far for most. "Those endless council meetings make me miss my days in the blacksmith shop."
Karl nodded his approval at that. "Ya worked the iron, didja?"
"Among other things." He gestured to Karl's hammer. "Speaking of which, that looks like a fine piece of smithing. Mind if I take a look?"
The rearick handed Benjamin the hammer, and the former blacksmith admired it from every angle before setting it on the table.
"You know, that reminds me of an old Holdgate legend," Captain Syd told them. "In a time long before the Mad Days, they say there was a hammer created by the gods. It was smithed with magic that allowed it to know a person's character. Only the most worthy were able to lift it."
Karl chuckled. "Sounds a bit like this one. It's been carried by a most worthy rearick for quite some time now."
Abbey stifled a smile and slid a hand across the table so her pinky finger barely touched the hammer. "Is that so? You're worthy to lift the hammer?"
"Of course, lass! I've bin carryin' ‘er fer years." His eyes scanned the tavern. "Now, where's the barkeep? I'm needin’ another mug o' mead."
"Show us," Abbey dared him. "Pick up the hammer now. If you can do it, I'll buy the next round. If not, drinks are on you. Deal?"
Karl looked at her as if trying to determine whether she was serious. "Ya must love buyin’ drinks, girl. Ya got yerself a wager."
He gripped the handle of the hammer and pulled, and the smile on his face quickly disappeared when the weapon didn't move an inch.
He pulled on it again, but the hammer still wouldn't move.
"Scheisse. What sea-witchery is this?" he grumbled.
Abbey shrugged. "Are you saying you can't do it?"
The rearick climbed on top of the table and spat in his palms, then grabbed the handle in a two-handed grip. "I'll be sayin' no such thing."
He pulled with all his might, and a vein stood out on his forehead. Still, the hammer didn't move.
Dustin chuckled. "Is it possible you're just not worthy?"
Karl ignored the comment and continued to try to lift his hammer. Soon his face was cherry red and covered in sweat.
Finally, after five minutes of trying, he relented. "All right, lass. I'll buy yer next round. Just unstick me damn hammer."
Abbey took her pinky away from the hammer and it returned to its normal weight. "It's all yours."
This time when Karl pulled it lifted easily, and he stumbled backward, almost falling off the table. The rest roared with laughter.
Karl's face remained frozen in an angry scowl until the next round of drinks arrived, then his expression softened considerably. "Ya going ta tell me how ya did it, girl?"
Abbey took a long pull on her mead before answering. "I can manipulate the weight of objects. I used my magic to make your hammer too heavy to lift."
"Good thing you gave up when you did," Dustin told him with a chuckle. "I was starting to worry the table would break under the weight before you did."
They drank for another two hours before calling it a night. Benjamin and Syd stood to leave at the same time, seemingly by coincidence though everyone at the table knew otherwise. The female stormship captain and the former blacksmith had been engaged in a poorly hidden relationship for more than two years at this point. Abbey suspected the only reason they kept the facade of secrecy was that it made the whole thing more exciting.
"Make sure you come back to us in one piece," Benjamin told Abbey as he hugged her.
"And save the world quickly," Syd added. "We need you here."
"We'll give it our best shot," Abbey agreed with a smile.
As the two of them took their leave, Karl finished off another mug. "Well, lass, as much as I'd love ta keep drinkin', we've got us an early mornin'. It's probably time fer us ta turn in. Suppose I’d best be lookin' fer a room."
Dustin clapped him on the back. "Nonsense. Our apartment has a closet just your size. You can sleep there."
Karl grumbled his thanks, and the three of them left the table.
Marriage was still new to Abbey, and it was still a wonder to go to bed and wake up next to Dustin each day. It gave her something to look forward to on their rare nights on land. Their apartment was small, but it was near the port, so they could hear the waves crashing in the night. They both found it difficult to sleep without the sounds of the sea.
They were almost at their apartment when fifteen men jumped out of the shadows, surrounding them.
"You'd best not move if you want to live," one of the men commanded.
Abbey looked the men over. They were stormship sailors.
"What fresh hell is this?" Karl growled.
Abbey put her hand on the hilt of her sword. "You gentlemen might want to reconsider your choice of victims. If you're out thieving, there are easier targets than a rearick, a Storm Caller, and a...well, a me."
A man near the back of the group chuckled and pushed his way forward. "We're not thieves, at least not tonight. It's revenge we're after." He stepped into the dim glow of the street lamp. "See, you burned one of my ships. Luckily for me, I wasn't on it."
Abbey drew a sharp breath as she recognized him. "Hello, Morton."
Chapter Twelve
"Three on fifteen," Karl said with a growl. "Lass, if yer the hero yer made out ta be, we can take 'em. Hell, I'll take ten meself."
"I like your confidence," Abbey replied, drawing her sword. To her left, Dustin clutched his stormcalling staff.
Morton raised his hand, revealing he was holding a small ax. "I wouldn't be so quick to dismiss my crew. Every one of them is a hardened stormship sailor."
"Yeah, I ran into a whole ship full of your hardened sailors yesterday," Abbey pointed out. "Yet somehow I'm still alive, and they're not."
Morton grimaced. "There were a few survivors. They tell me you had some sort of flying lizard monster with you. It would appear you don't have that advantage now."
Abbey suddenly wished they hadn't left Sal on a mountaintop east of Holdgate for the night. But what other option had they? The crowd in the Drunken Bear would have gotten a bit nervous if the dragon were present. Besides, she wasn't worried about these idiots.
"Yep," Abbey agreed. "No dragon. Just the three of us versus the fifteen of you. Should be a fair fight."
"Fair fights are overrated.” Morton sneered. His eyes settled on the Rearick. "That's why I have twelve archers on the rooftops around us."
Abbey's gaze darted to the darkened rooftops. There was no way of knowing if the Storm Raider was telling the truth, but if he was, their odds in this fight just got a whole lot longer.
"Now you're starting to understand.” Morton chuckled. "You're not walking out of here. You're going to die in this dirty Holdgate street."
"If I had a gold piece for every time I've heard that…" Abbey sighed.
Dustin shook his head. "We lead very strange lives."
Abbey glanced at her husband, hoping he could interpret her look. One of the things they had going for them was that their enemies didn't realize Dustin could Storm Call on land, so they wouldn't expect storm magic here. Still, it would take him a minute to call the weather they needed, and she would have to buy him that time. And maybe she would get to have that conversation with Morton about why he’d gone bad after all.
Dustin gripped his staff and shut his eyes. Good. He'd gotten her message.
"It's kinda sad if you think about
it," Abbey told Morton. "You still stormraiding. That shit has been out of style for nearly three years. The people of Holdgate have moved on, but you couldn't do the same, could you?"
Morton let out a deep belly laugh. "Is that what you think? That Holdgate has moved on? You kill Tor, and you think that's the end of stormraiding?"
"Well, I killed Dahlia, too." Abbey shot Karl a look.
She hadn't known him long, so she doubted she'd be able to communicate non-verbally with him as well as she could with her husband. To her surprise and delight, his hand moved slowly to his hammer after her look.
"Please.” Morton scoffed. "Stormraiding is a way of life here. It's always been under the surface, to some extent. Even Tor understood that. He kept his activities hidden from those who didn't need to know about them. It's just a bit more secret now."
Abbey risked a glance at the rooftops and saw a light fog already beginning to descend. Dustin's work, no doubt. The fog would have to be a lot heavier to protect them from the archers, though.
Thankfully, Morton was still talking. She was content to let him blab as long as he wanted to. The more time Dustin had, the better.
"People might say they're against stormraiding. It's the polite opinion to have these days, after all. They feel like they need to impress the magistrate and the Arcadian blacksmith, not to mention traitor stormship captains like Roy and Syd. But behind closed doors things are different. The people of Holdgate are just waiting for a leader to champion their cause, someone who can bring stormraiding into the light where it belongs. It's our birthright, after all. We shouldn't have to hide it."
Finally, Morton paused. He looked at the fog around him.
"What the hell is this?"
In mere moments, the fog had thickened to the point where Abbey could hardly see the man four feet in front of her—which meant it was time to act.
"This is the part where we kick your ass," Abbey shouted. She surged forward, hoping her two allies would also attack—Dustin with his stormcalling and Karl with his hammer.
Morton took a step back, disappearing into the fog. Abbey started after him, but two men stepped into her path. She didn't hesitate. Her sword was eight inches deep in the first man's chest before either had a chance to attack. As she pulled her sword free she lashed out with her foot at the other man, catching him just under the chin.
He stumbled backward but managed to keep his feet.
She quickly corrected that situation, bringing her sword up and slashing his throat.
When her second opponent fell, Abbey paused a moment and tried to measure how the fight was progressing based on the sounds around her. She heard a massive thud she interpreted as Karl's hammer slamming into someone's skull. From the confused voices above, it was clear Morton hadn't been lying about the archers. Thankfully, Dustin's thick fog had made it so any shot would be blind and just as likely to hit an ally as an enemy.
"Morton, you coward!" she called into the fog. "Show yourself!"
Her taunt was partly in the hopes that the stormship captain would be prideful and stupid enough to answer her challenge, but it was also to draw the rest of the enemies away from Dustin and toward her. He couldn't exactly engage in hand-to-hand combat while he was stormcalling.
One of the enemy fighters ran toward her, drawn by her voice. When she saw him through the fog she stepped back and let his wild attack slice through the empty air in front of her, then drove the tip of her sword into the side of his neck. As the man fell she turned, looking for her next opponent.
Something slammed into her back and she tumbled forward, landing face-first on the cobblestones. She quickly rolled over, but something pinned her sword arm to the ground. Her other arm was pinned just as fast, and her legs a split-second later. All she could do was squirm as the three men held her down.
Then Morton stepped into view with a broad smile on his face.
The fog started to thin, and Abbey hoped that Dustin hadn't been taken down. She heard the sounds of battle and distinctive cursing to her right, so at least Karl was still fighting.
Morton leaned down toward her. "What was it you were saying about kicking my ass?"
She struggled to free herself, but the way they had her pinned made it impossible. They were only touching her clothed arms and legs, not bare skin, so she couldn't even manipulate their weight. But there was no way in hell she’d give up. After everything she'd been through, everyone she'd fought—Tor, Dahlia, the Barskall fleet, the Stone Shapers, Simon—this mediocre stormship captain having a lucky night wouldn't be the end of her.
And yet, she couldn't see a way out of her predicament.
Morton knelt next to her and raised his ax. "Goodbye, Abbey. You know, it wasn’t really you we were after. It was the rearick. I’ve got a new friend who’s willing to pay mightily for his little head. I’m almost sorry you got caught up in this. Almost."
Abbey opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, something caught her eye. A shape behind Morton.
At first, she thought the hooded figure might be Dustin, but the proportions weren't quite right.
Quick as fire, a hammer cut through the air and slammed into the side of Morton’s head. The Storm Raider went limp and landed on the cobblestone next to Abbey.
“What were ya sayin’ about heads and paying mightily?” Karl growled.
The men who’d pinned her were just as shocked as Abbey at the sudden execution of their captain, enough so that Abbey was able to pull her right arm free. That was all she needed. Grabbing her knife from her belt, she quickly dispatched the man on her left arm, then leaned forward and took out the man who held her legs.
The one who'd been on her right arm was already on his feet and sprinting away by that point. "Captain Morton's dead!" he shouted as he ran.
Other footsteps joined his—the other sailors making their retreat, Abbey assumed.
She got to her feet and stumbled through the fog until she found Dustin. He was still stormcalling, staff in hand.
"You okay?" she asked him.
"Right as rain.” He grinned. "Sounds like things got a little hairy there for a minute."
"Yeah," she agreed slowly. "They really did."
Karl stepped up next to her, his bloody hammer dangling from his hand. "Glad ta see ya both made it through."
"You too," Abbey said. "So, how are you enjoying your first night in Holdgate?"
The rearick grinned. "Fine mead, fine company, and plenty o’ heads in need o’ bashin'. What's not ta like?"
"The fall off the side of a ship is much shorter than the fall off a flying dragon," Abbey said as they walked through the port the next morning.
"Aye, ya have a point there, lass," Karl replied.
"On the other hand," Dustin interjected, "you didn't throw up while riding Sal. And you did throw up after…what, like thirty seconds aboard Storm Warrior."
"Another strong contender fer the sound logic award." Karl let out a heavy sigh. "Ride that overgrown lizard or get tossed inta the waves. I miss the days when a rearick could travel under the power o’ his own two feet. I swear, I think that Hannah lass sent me on this particular mission just ta torture me."
Abbey clapped him on the back. "Well, I'm glad she did."
Karl grinned slyly. "Aye, lass, I suppose I am as well."
As the sun began to peek over the eastern mountains, Abbey was feeling the effects of the previous night's activities: a headache brought on by the drinking and a bunch of bruises from the encounter with Morton and his crew. She hadn't gotten more than a couple hours of sleep. She'd been wired on adrenaline, and her mind had raced with thoughts of how close she'd come to dying at the hands of a simple Storm Raiders.
But that wasn’t all that had kept her awake. Morton’s final words haunted her, too. He’d said he’d been after Karl, but why? And who was this new friend he’d referred to? Who even knew Karl was in Holdgate? Was it just some prejudiced patron at the Drunken Bear, or was this something more?
But that mystery would have to wait. The Founder had asked her to join his mission, and she was answering the call. She wasn't sure how she felt about working with a team of heroes. It had been difficult enough learning to be part of a stormship crew. Now she'd be meeting with a bunch of strong-willed magic users, every one of whom was probably used to being the baddest of the badasses in their little neck of the woods. Things were bound to get a little tense, and probably more than a little snarky.
Abbey was confident she could hold her own. Though her magic was nowhere near what Hannah could do—or so it seemed from what little Karl had told her—Abbey was sure she'd prove herself worthy. She was an Arcadian who'd somehow risen through the stormship ranks and earned the respect of the people of Holdgate. If she could do that, she could do anything.
The ship they'd be taking was significantly smaller than Storm Warrior so Dustin would be able to get them across the sea and to their destination quickly. Abbey had the feeling he wouldn't make the waters too smooth on their journey, though. It was too much fun watching Karl squirm.
When they reached their ship, Dustin and Abbey climbed right aboard. The rearick paused on the docks.
"Not getting cold feet, are you, Karl?" Abbey asked.
He scowled. "It's not fear. It's just a natural distaste fer spendin’ the next few days aboard a floatin’ piece o’ wood. I tell ya, rearicks weren't meant ta live like this."
"Nonsense," Dustin countered with a grin. "You'll have your sea legs in no time."
After Karl had reluctantly boarded, they untied the ship and pushed off.
"Let's get Sal, then we'll head south," Dustin suggested.
Karl's eyes were fixed on the sky above Holdgate. "I'm thinkin’ we can skip that first part."
Sal was flying above the city in large, lazy circles.
"So much for keeping him hidden so as not to cause a panic," Abbey commented. She could see the guards on the city wall scrambling around, trying to figure out what to do about the huge flying creature.
