by A F Stewart
“Damnation. Evan said something similar during our visit.” Rafe scowled. “This may be worse than we feared.”
AFTER MIDDAY, RAFE and his men gathered for the memorial with the crowd in the town square. The captain’s mood was brittle and he expected trouble, but aside from a few sour glances and muttered grumbles, the crew of the Celestial Jewel were left alone.
The townsfolk erected a shrine in a secluded section of the square, and Rafe watched men, women, and children place offerings beside the stone. An array of flowers, trinkets, and luck charms soon surrounded the monument, as well as a few sweets and personal mementos of the lost sailors. He held his breath as Blackthorne placed a traditional sea wreath of white wildblooms at the shrine. No one said a word. As the last person laid their gift, Lord Merrill moved to the front of the crowd to speak, and Rafe began to relax. The nobleman caught the captain’s eye and gave a nod before starting his speech.
“We are here to mourn the loss of those brave and gallant men who perished in the tragic sinking of that fine ship, the Coral Rose.” Merrill paused a moment with a slight intake of breath. “Abersythe took pride in her and her crew, and they always did us proud. I know not a soul in this town who won’t feel their loss, and, for some, it will be a terrible personal tragedy.” Lord Merrill lowered his head in a brief moment of silence, and the crowd hushed as well. Then he looked up, casting a poignant gaze over the crowd. “But we will persevere. It is the way of the Islands.” He nodded and stepped aside making way for Mr. Cooke, the harbourmaster.
“Thank you, Lord Merrill. It is a sad day and a sad loss for Abersythe. I knew the captain of the Coral Rose as a friend and as a fine, honourable man. I feel his passing keenly as many of you here, kin to the crew, feel a similar loss.” A breath caught in his throat before he continued. “Today we gather here to mourn and to remember. Remember the captain and all those fine men and women who sailed on our Coral Rose.” Mr. Cooke straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin. “To the Coral Rose. Long may she sail in the After World!”
Rafe shivered at those words, knowing how many of the crew were missing from the After World. His gut churned in guilt as voices rose from the gathering in echo of the harbourmaster’s sentiment.
“To the Coral Rose.”
Rafe saw a hint of a cheerless smile cross the harbourmaster’s face as he finished his speech. “And now, anyone who would like to come and say a few words about the Rose are welcome.” Mr. Cooke merged into the crowd as people walked forward.
As the crowd shifted, Rafe slowly departed the town square. He was more than willing to leave and his crew could maintain a continued presence for the Jewel at the memorial. He did not intend to overstay his welcome and tempt goodwill, but, unfortunately, his surreptitious exit did not go unnoticed. At the edge of the square, Rafe found himself impeded.
“Well, well. Captain Morrow.” Pelham’s voice boisterously rang out, drawing attention. “Leaving so soon? Or simply turning tail and running like a coward? Knowing full well the good people of Abersythe don’t want you here.” The commander sneered. “After all, where you go trouble follows...like the trouble that found the Coral Rose.”
A heated murmur snaked through the crowd at Rafe’s back. He could almost feel the sudden antagonism build in the crowd as Pelham’s insinuation stirred the embers of old resentments. He stepped forward to make a hasty exodus, but Pelham deliberately hindered him.
The commander leaned in, his voice low. “Look around you, Captain. See the people turn on you. Your influence is ending as will soon end these ridiculous adventures of yours.”
Rafe glared, sharply ready for a fight, but a flurry of movement behind him gained the fast attention of everyone.
“You’re not welcome here!” The harsh shout of the Abersythe harbourmaster rose above the hum of the crowd. “Not after what you’ve done!”
Shocked, Rafe turned, expecting the anger directed at him, but saw Mr. Cooke staring at Pelham.
“I got word from a spellcaster before I came, from the Black Shoals harbourmaster. Told me the Navy ain’t just trying to salvage the Rose. They’re planning on taking her and her cargo, if they’re able, to the King’s Rock Fort! And if they have to scuttle her, they’ll still take her goods! They’re confiscating her! A lawful Abersythe ship! For investigatory purposes, they’re claiming! More like for thievery!” He almost snarled the last few words. “So turn around, Commander Pelham, and get your backside gone from this memorial! And don’t go besmirching the captain here. Whatever he’s done, or ain’t done, he’s always protected us, been on our side! More than you can say!”
Pelham stepped forward as if to challenge, but the crowd’s mood had, yet again, turned, this time against the commander. People now glared at the Navy man, shouting angry insults and waving fists. Cries of “How dare they take the Rose!,” “It’s our ship!,” “Navy curs!,” “Damn kingdom arrogance!,” and “Run him out of town!” drowned any argument, and convinced Pelham to beat a hasty retreat with his men at his heels.
Rafe watched Pelham’s withdrawal with amusement but whispered to Blackthorne who had appeared at his side. “I think we should leave as well before they remember any grievance towards us.”
Blackthorne nodded. They rounded up crew of the Celestial Jewel and quietly left the square, returning to the harbour and their ship.
Once on board, Rafe smiled and let out a sigh of relief. “Well, Pelham’s put his foot in it this time. Abersythe won’t soon forget this.”
“Good.” Blackthorne chimed in. “He won’t get far, spreading lies about us, if they stay angry. We might actually find a better welcome in port from here on out with less of his yammer being believed.”
“Hopefully. But he’ll not stop. You heard him. He means to curtail our ‘ridiculous adventures.’” Rafe scowled.
Blackthorne scoffed. “Like he could.”
Rafe shrugged. “We’ll see, I suppose. Today, it doesn’t matter, as we need to be off on one of those adventures. Prepare the ship for sailing, Blackthorne. As soon as the harbour crew is able, we need to be underway for Crickwell Island and Red Bay.”
“Aye, Captain. I’ll see to it immediately.”
Chapter Five
Red Bay
THE QUAINT HARBOUR town of Red Bay nestled itself in a sheltered cove on the westward side of Crickwell Island. Its only distinction of note was its sheep and the fine wool the animals produced. The Jewel sailed into a lively port, the grey harbourside tucked against a picturesque backdrop of bright buildings. Beyond the wharves, quaint homes and shops painted in cheery reds, yellows, blues, and greens greeted them with meadows and pastures stretching beyond the sea.
The ship docked beside the two vessels berthed in the port, noticing sailors loading the town’s exports onto the cargo ships. Rafe disembarked with Blackthorne and Short Davy, checked in with the harbourmaster, and then, as a group, walked straight on to the Red Bay Museum and Library.
They found the wooden building just beyond the port, off the west side of the marketplace. It was larger than Rafe expected. Two storeys and painted deep red, trimmed in gold. It had a gilded sign over the doorway, and the men heard the light tinkle of a bell as they entered into a carpeted anteroom bare of furniture. They faced another door leading into the museum proper that was left ajar. The faint smell of perfume drifted and heralded the sound of a feminine voice that beckoned, “Come in, gentlemen. I’ve been expecting you.”
Rafe and his men moved forward, striding into a room lined with bookshelves, cabinets of odd-looking statues, and other artifacts and full of tables with more stacks of books. A petite, raven-haired woman dressed in a long patchwork skirt, a high-collar green blouse, and a dark blue jacket stood in front of a bookcase. Unruly curls of hair sprawled over her shoulders and around her face, the ends tickling the collar of her coat. She smiled at them, an offbeat charm radiating from her expression. She reminded Rafe of a giddy lass with a secret. She walked towards them with a bounce in her st
ep, her heels clicking on the stone tiled floor. When she stopped in front of them, she extended her hand.
“Captain Morrow and crew, I presume.”
Rafe nodded, strangely at a loss for words, and shook her hand.
“Wonderful. I’m Miss Theodora Ainslie. Welcome, welcome. Lord Merrill sent word you were coming. It is such an honour and a pleasure to have you visit.” She rocked on her toes, and the tone of her voice gushed. “I was informed you were curious about our books and materials on the god, Ashetus? Is that correct?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Rafe found his voice and then frowned. He quickly added, “Wait. Did you say, god?” He cast her a skeptical look. “Are you certain about that? I doubt this creature has claim to be a god.”
“Oh, yes. Definitely a god.” She either failed to notice Rafe’s skepticism or chose to ignore it, continuing. “Or at least a demigod. All the texts refer to him as some sort of deity, although they don’t quite agree on what kind. Some called Ashetus a sea god. Some, a death god or a god of judgement. He’s even referred to as the God of Bones. I rather like that one.”
“Well now. How interesting. Perhaps a shade of deity, then.” Rafe quirked an eyebrow and repressed a snort of disbelief. “Strange though, that I’ve never heard of him.” He paused for a moment to see Miss Ainslie’s reaction. She only smiled at him. So he continued. “I must agree with you on the names, though. God of Bones is a most colourful title and perhaps more suitable than sea or death god. My sister and mother aren’t known for sharing.”
“Your sister and mother...” Miss Ainslie gave a tiny gasp. “Oh my, I forgot. You are rather well-versed in gods, aren’t you? My apologies, Captain. I meant no insult on your family tree. I can only go by what’s written in the books.”
Feeling suddenly contrite at her discomfort, Rafe replied, “No offence taken, ma’am. It’s just a bit odd, being lectured on the topic of gods.”
She laughed. “I can imagine. I’ll try to be less professorial and more mindful of your lineage.” She tilted her head and gave him a lopsided grin. “And you didn’t just come to listen to me prattle, so if you gentlemen will follow me. We keep all the relevant books in the back room.” She turned, crooking her hand, and walked off towards an adjacent room, her curls bouncing against her neck. The three men trailed after her into, yet, another section filled with books.
“I’ve laid out all the volumes regarding Ashetus, here.” She indicated a table with two stacks comprising seven books. “There isn’t much, but I can give you a quick overview or answer any questions before you start researching.”
“Where did all this information originate, Miss Ainslie?” Rafe tapped the cover of the nearest book with a finger. “Someone must have compiled the stories about Ashetus in these volumes. However, in all my years, I’ve never heard any mention of this creature.”
“Perhaps it’s because, if I’m not mistaken, you’ve spent most of those years in the Outer Islands. All these books are from the Seven Kingdoms. We’re quite lucky to have received them. Lord Merrill himself donated these copies.”
Rafe quirked an eyebrow. “Did he now? Interesting.”
“Oh, yes. Lord Merrill takes a great interest in the Kingdoms’ and Islands’ history, folklore, and legends. He’s been most generous over the years to Red Bay and many other museums.”
“Really? The man is full of surprises.”
“Oh, indeed. He is quite the scholar and philanthropist, Lord Merrill, and speaks very highly of you, Captain.”
“That’s good to know. Might I ask how he came to acquire these manuscripts and their origin?”
“I have no idea how Lord Merrill manage to acquire the books. The volumes come from the Eastern Kingdom of Idria, which is remarkable as the scholars of that kingdom do not share their works.”
“Well, evidently he’s resourceful, our Lord Merrill.” Rafe smiled. “Does he take a particular interest in this forgotten god? I’m curious to know how he became acquainted with the stories of Ashetus.”
Miss Ainslie smiled back, with a slight blush. “Oh, I doubt Lord Merrill had any interest or inkling of Ashetus prior to your inquiries, Captain. While I believe these books may be the only major references to Ashetus that you will find anywhere, he donated them as part of a ten-volume collection of histories. They are simply lost pieces of the tales we have named The Time of the World Before the Light.”
“Now, I’m familiar with that.” Rafe suppressed a grin. “My father shared the history of the realms as bedtime stories when I was a child.”
“Really?” She seemed slightly shocked. “A peculiar choice for a child, I must say. Tales of monsters, horrors, and mayhem.” She shook her head with what Rafe assumed to be disapproval.
“My father does have peculiar ways at times. So what do the books contain? I’d like some context.”
“Ah, yes. They seem to be translated accounts, based on older writings of a scholar named Osratis who lived several centuries ago in the Idrian city of Antrika. Osratis also wrote later works that became the definitive histories of the Seven Kingdoms.”
“Osratis is a name I know. A hermit scholar who was considered to be a prophet. I’ve heard of his histories as well, but I’ve never read them.” Rafe paused for a moment as a chance memory flickered. “I believe Antrika is also famous for being the home of the Society of the Shadow Guard.”
Miss Ainslie grinned. “Oh, indeed. The stories I could tell you. They have a most intriguing history. In fact, there are even rumours that some form of the Society exists today. But that’s probably best for another day. You came here to learn of Ashetus.” She smiled and continued before Rafe could interject. “The first three books in this collection don’t deviate much from the standard Kingdom’s history and the more widely known of the texts of Osratis. However, these seven I laid out are a bit of a strange mix. They contain a jumble of the well-known history of the Seven Kingdoms and Outer Islands and previously unseen variations of The Time of the World Before the Light. This one,” she reached over and plucked a book off the table. “is a complex divergence on the history of the Archipelago of Nightfall from its creation to its banishment beyond the realms. In addition, there is a forty-two page appendix consisting of dire warnings on incurring the wrath of Sea Ghouls.”
“I do agree with that. One should never incur the wrath of a Sea Ghoul.” Rafe smiled, and Miss Ainslie blushed again.
“I can imagine.” She ran her finger along the spine of the book she held.
“Is that where this beast came from?” Blackthorne interjected into the discussion. “From the Archipelago of Nightfall?”
Miss Ainslie turned to the first mate. “Oh, no indeed. In fact, the only passage on Ashetus included in this book refers to how the denizens of the Archipelago feared him and how they welcomed banishment to hide from him even after he was imprisoned.”
Rafe inhaled sharply while the other two men turned a shade paler. “The creatures in the Archipelago feared Ashetus? That’s what it says?”
“Oh, yes. There’s a wonderfully descriptive passage on how they all cowered and trembled. On how their screams of terror shook the mountains and the sky. It makes for a fascinating story...” At the worried looks exchanged between her guests, Miss Ainslie paused in her speech, but then added, “Doesn’t it? It’s just a story. The Archipelago of Nightfall is a myth...a fable.”
“No, ma’am.” Short Davy spoke quietly. “It’s as real as you or I. We’ve all sailed there.”
“But—but, I never dreamed...I mean I knew some of it wasn’t exaggeration or lie, but...” She dropped the book on the table with a thunk and sank into a nearby chair.
Rafe knelt down to look the woman in the eyes. “I’d wager most everything in those books of yours is real to some degree, Miss Ainslie, and while I can sympathize with your disbelief, we still need your help. If the creatures that live in the Archipelago were afraid of something, we may all be in a great deal of danger.”
She looked at h
im and squared her shoulders. “Yes, of course.” She placed her hand on the discarded book. “This volume has just the one mention of Ashetus in regards to the Archipelago and his imprisonment.”
Rafe moved to sit in a nearby chair. “Does it say how he was imprisoned?”
“No. But this one...” She reached across the table and slid another book out of the pile. “This one speaks of a great battle raging from the sky to the sea between Ashetus, a being called the God of the Hunt, and three great shadow birds. I bookmarked it for you.” She flipped the book open to the marked page.
“Yes, here it is.” She took a breath and read.
The creatures of the Darkness moaned and shivered, fleeing eternally from the terrible God of Judgement they named Ashetus.
She looked up at Rafe, adding, “This is one of the instances where he is referred to as God of Judgement.” Then she continued with her reading.
They cried out for release from their torment, for an end to their ceaseless suffering. For the terrible god pursued them, chasing his prey and granting his victims not only a gruesome death but a dreadful existence beyond death, locked evermore in their bones to serve his needs.
She glanced up for a moment. “It also goes into rather ghastly detail of how he feeds on the dead and that he uses the bones of his enemies as his bed.” She shuddered slightly and then continued.
One by one the creatures of the Darkness fell to Ashetus, their screams forever echoing on the winds of the worlds, their bodily remains and souls forever bound to his will.
“Damnation!” Short Davy cursed, his body shuddering. “He sounds like an awful thing.”
