The Heir of Eyria

by Osku Alanen

  The rest of the group were waiting in a nearby tavern. He hoped Raven would find them a ship soon. Private quarters might be too much to hope for, but he didn’t care much for sleeping on a damp, cold floor of the cargo hold. He had no clear recollection how long it would take to reach the mainland, but he knew it would likely be to days, a week maybe. And the more time they spent here, waiting, the further his son would be.

  “Ronan.” Rust’s eyes lighted up as he saw the Northman enter the tavern. He lifted a mug of ale to his lips as a salute, motioning for him to join them.

  “Enjoying the life, I see,” Ronan snorted.

  Rust grinned. “Have to enjoy life when we still can. You never know when your days are numbered. Take it from me—I know.”

  “Good for you,” Ronan laughed. He was glad to see Rust recover from his wounds this fast. It looks like the beast’s fangs would leave no permanent damage to his body.

  “So, what’s the news?”

  Ronan sat by the table. “Raven’s getting us a ship as we speak. He told me to let you know.”

  “He better find us a decent one, then. There is no chance I’m going to sleep in the same room with you stinky animals,” Rose said, holding her nostrils close with her fingertips.

  Rust sighed, looking agitated. “Do you have to be so negative all the time, Rose? You know, our journey would go much smoother without your constant whining.”

  “Whatever.” Her face seemed to be made of stone, but Ronan knew she had been hurt by the words. He knew the woman had been deeply troubled seeing Rust hurt; she was no doubt scared that he wouldn’t survive.

  “How’s he doing?” Ronan nodded towards Avalon, anxious to change the subject. He was in no mood for fighting.

  The man was sitting away from the rest of them. Alone. He didn’t react when Ronan mentioned his name.

  “Don’t mind him, Ronan. He prefers to be alone. I’m sure he’s alright. You haven’t seen half the things the man has done; healing me was nothing to him.”

  “Right,” Ronan muttered. Somehow, he wasn’t convinced. There was no way the man was fine. He had seen his body twist unnaturally. Something about the whole thing had been just wrong.

  “I know I should’ve asked this a long time ago, but why did we slay that beast?”

  Rust exchanged a look with Rose, who turned her gaze away. “That’s something you should ask Raven, not us. He has a dream, you know—a noble one. But you should ask him to tell you about it, not us.”

  Ronan grunted, finally noticing his crumbling stomach. He ordered a bowl of soup and a mug of ale to wash it down. He wasn’t sure what was in it as it tasted somewhat repugnant. Slightly grimacing, he forced it down his throat. Taste didn’t matter to him now—he needed the strength for the journey ahead. Who knows when they’d get anything but dried meat, stale bread and fruits.

  “Do you think we’ll set sail tonight, still?” Rose asked. Her speech seemed to be slurring.

  “Nah, I reckon he might persuade a ship to take us in, but there’s not chance we will set sail during the night. The coast is too perilous here.”

  “Great. More time for me to drink, then.”

  “Don’t mind her, Ronan. It’s just the way she is,” Rust whispered to his ear, careful not to let Rose overhear.

  “Aye, I know. I don’t know what she’s been through, and I reckon it’s not my business.”

  “Do me a favor and don’t press her, alright? She doesn’t respond kindly to that kind of talk.”

  “She does seem to get well with you, though?”

  Rust shrugged. “I guess. We’ve known each other for years now.”

  The group spent the rest of the night in a quiet stupor, savoring the last moments before they would have to say goodbye to solid ground. No one particularly liked the fact that they had to cross the Northern Sea to get to the mainland, but there was no avoiding it. Rust explained quietly to Ronan how they had journeyed here only a few short weeks earlier. The second day into their journey, a violent storm had caught them by the surprise, the waves hammering at the hull of the ship with enough force to sweep a man off his feet. They all had bundled up inside the cargo hold, praying for the storm to pass, and for their ship to not fall apart. They spent a miserable week without sunlight, hulking away in the cargo hold. Rose took the trip hardest; she vomited anything she ate as soon as she shoved anything in his mouth. The sea wasn’t her friend. The day they reached Riverend, the woman had wept, Rust told him. She had grown terribly weak by the journey, her body ravaged by malnutrition—and for a woman with no meat on her bones, it would have been a horrible experience, Ronan reckoned. It was no wonder she wasn’t looking towards crossing the sea again, this soon.

  Much later, Raven joined the rest of the group, boasting about the deal he had made with a captain of a vessel called the Nautilus, a huge trading vessel departing at first light. He negotiated them surprisingly decent quarters—a shared cabin for the men, and a private one for Rose. It was probably Raven’s way of making up for the hardship Rose had to go through the last time they crossed the ocean, Ronan thought.

  They embarked at dawn, saying goodbye for the cold lands and cold men of the Northern Islands. Ronan thought he would feel something, but all he felt was a sense of relief; he was not one to settle down. His family had always been nomads—staying in one place too long was not in their blood. And what had he gained by staying here, really? He had no riches to his name. No wife. And now… no son. All he had gained was a few more scars and a head full of grey hair.

  I will have my son back, even if it kills me, Ronan vowed to himself, as he watched the cold North vanish into distance.

  ***

  Ronan leaned over the front rail of the ship, closely watching the formation of white, foaming bubbles where the ship cut through water. He could see shapes of something he thought were dolphins breaking through the water in the distance, occasionally jumping to incredible heights. They kept their distance, though, which he though was a shame. Smart animals, those dolphins. Ronan had heard tales of how a group of them had once saved the life of a sailor. Brought him ashore even when he was about to drown.

  Their journey across the two lands had begun with no hardship. The waters were calm, and the cartographer aboard assured them there were no storms to be expected, much to Rose’s relief. The crew across the ship hurried on about their tasks with dedication and professionalism that Ronan found inspiring. Raven had picked a good ship—and a crew.

  Later that evening, Raven introduced Ronan to the Captain—a seasoned veteran of close to thirty years at sea. He told them stories of all the hardships he had faced during his life as a captain, from pirate vessels to strange beasts under the sea. Ronan listened in awe; he had close to no experience about seafaring, as he preferred solid ground below his feet. There was something horrifying about the thought of living on man-made congregation of wooden planks—the only obstacle between him and the endless abyss beneath the sea.

  The Captain seemed to take a liking to Raven instantly; he invited the rest of the group for a private feast inside his cabin. Ronan watched silently as the two men conversed. It was hard to match with someone like Raven—a man who could command so much respect with nothing but his words and actions. Only Avalon had declined the Captain’s invite, preferring the solitude below deck, which Ronan found hardly surprising, to be honest.

  The next day Ronan spent gazing at the sea; he could see nothing but endless blue in every direction. He had no way of knowing where they were, as the last landmark they passed by was long gone. Now they had nothing but maps and the stars as their guidance. Ronan leaned over the rail on starboard side of the vessel, sighing heavily.

  “What are you looking for?” Rust asked. Somehow, he had managed to sneak behind him without being seen.

  Ronan shrugged. “Nothing much. Just trying to get my bearings.”

  “How’s that working out for you?” the man laughed.

  “Not well, I reckon,” Ronan
admitted. “Too much water.”

  “Well, what did you expect?”

  Ronan smiled at the question, and the man joined him, leaning over the rail of the ship. They watched the waves in mutual silence for a while. “You know what, Rust. I know next to nothing about your past. How’d you end up with Raven and his company?”

  Rust seemed to flinch, reaching for his shoulder. The wound caused by the wolf had closed already, but the scars remained. Ronan had half the man to ask if it still pained him, but for a man with many a wound, he knew it to be a silly question. Yet, still he asked. “Painful, isn’t it?”

  Rust shrugged. “Sure, but I can handle pain. I’ve had much, much worse.” Slowly, he removed his shirt, showing his muscled back to Ronan. Ronan looked in horror at the man’s mutilated back; it was covered by a hundred scars. Lashes? He couldn’t believe someone could survive that. Most men would have died from the pain alone, or from poisoning of the blood.

  “Torture?” Ronan asked silently.

  “Aye.”

  Ronan swallowed. “For how… long?”

  “Honestly? I don’t really know. A year… I think. Time loses its meaning when you don’t know if it’s day or night.”

  “How did you get out?”

  Rust lowered his shirt, hiding his scars. He smiled, pointing towards Raven who still conversed eagerly with the Captain.

  “I see,” Ronan replied. Of course. That explained so much. It was no wonder the man followed Raven. Ronan had so many questions he wanted to ask, but he let the man speak instead. Some men could talk of their painful memories—but not all. Some things were better left unsaid.

  “I was a lieutenant then,” Rust begun. He could clearly sense the apprehension Ronan was feeling. “A lieutenant of the Eyrian Kingdom, and a personal guard of the King himself once, if you can believe it.”

  “What happened?”

  Rust shrugged. “I fucked up. I did a few mistakes here and there, which was enough to get me kicked out. I lost the respect of my peers, and worst of all, my family.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Aye, well, so am I,” Rust said, sighing. “Long story short. It took me years to regain the trust I had lost. I was this close to getting my old job back, but then I managed to piss off one of the princes. And believe me that’s the last thing you want to do.” Rust’s cheeks seemed to redden slightly as he continued. “I… slept around a lot then. For some reason, most of the ladies found a man my size fascinating. I did the mistake of sleeping with someone prince Lionel had his eyes on, and he didn’t appreciate it one bit, especially when he when he caught me red-handed sneaking out of her quarters. He didn’t kick me out of the army, mind you, but he made sure I was never to set a foot inside the castle again. I was angry then. For someone who had worked so hard to regain his stature, I had fucked up again. Luckily for me, the five-year conflict with the Nubian Empire was still ongoing, so the dumb old me decided it smart to join. They didn’t care if I had pissed off a prince or two; they wanted fighters.”

  “And that’s how you were captured?”

  “Aye. The very first skirmish, if you can believe it. Just my luck.”

  “So that’s why you follow Raven? Because he saved you?”

  “I owe my life to him. He saved me from what would’ve been a slow and a painful death, and for that, I’m forever grateful. But it’s not the reason why I’m with him.”

  “No?”

  “No. I follow him because he’s a good man. And in this world, good men are few.”

  Ronan grunted. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that.”

  “So am I. But the past’s the past, isn’t it? We can only change what future can bring.”

  Both men stared at the open sea in front of them, both in their own way happy they still lived.

  ***

  Ronan woke up to as start as the ship came to a stop, followed by a loud screeching coming from far below the hull of the ship. He felt disoriented by the unfamiliar room he was in, thinking he was back in the tavern. A few seconds later he realized taverns didn’t sway like this room did, and then he remembered where he was. Ronan groaned as he lifted himself up from the hard, sorry excuse of a bed. It was hard getting used to beds like this after years of sleeping in a real bed, on a floor that didn’t sway. “What’s going on?” Ronan muttered.

  “It would seem we have come to a stop,” Raven stated the obvious.

  Ronan looked around; he saw no members of the crew present. It was only him, Rust, and Raven. Avalon was nowhere to be seen. Ronan squinted, fumbling for his weapons, thankful that the blacksmith, Han, had worked so hard for them.

  “You reckon something’s up?”

  “I don’t know, but we should investigate. Gather your things, men,” Raven ordered. He lowered his voice. “But proceed with caution; these waters are not known by their hospitality. This wouldn’t be the first ship to be boarded by pirates under the cover of darkness.”

  “Right on, chief,” Rust agreed.

  Just as they stepped out their quarters, Ronan saw Rose walking across the deck. It seemed she, too, had come prepared. Her hair was a mess, her curly hair poking widely in every direction. It made her look somewhat feral, especially with that arrow already nocked.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, yawning.

  Raven looked around, frowning. “So, we did come to a stop.”

  “What’s with the mist?” Rust asked.

  He was right, Ronan realized. A thick mist had enclosed the ship. He could hardly see past the deck. Then he saw something… strange. “There,” Ronan pointed over the starboard side of the ship. “Is that… an island?”

  Rose snorted. “Took you a while to notice, I see. The question you should be asking is why the crew left us stranded here—on their very own ship.

  “Good point,” Ronan conceded.

  “Rose, did you see Avalon up here?” Raven inquired.

  “No,” Rose shook her head. “That man never tells anyone anything. Knowing the bastard, he went to investigate by himself.”

  “You reckon?” Ronan scratched his beard. He found it curious how… neutral she acted when Raven spoke to him. It was always Ronan that got the snarky remarks from the girl.

  Rose turned her gaze away; she didn’t even bother answering him. “Listen.”

  “What is it?” Rust asked.

  “Nothing, that’s what, I hear nothing. We’re right by an island, and where there’s an island, there are birds, but I hear nothing—only the waves.”

  Rose was right. Ronan would have expected to hear something. Instead, there was only the sound of the waves hitting the hull of the ship and the rocks by the shore. Ronan’s eyes had adjusted well enough to the mist, so he could finally see that they had even lowered the anchor. Even the shore was close enough for them to swim ashore. The girl’s perception was praise-worthy; she was twice the hunter Ronan considered himself to be. Ronan shared a look with Rust; he seemed just as troubled as he was. Something had no doubt happened to the crew, and that was not good. There was no chance in hell only a few men could maneuver a merchant vessel of this size, not without experience.

  Raven sighed. He seemed surprisingly composed despite the severity of the situation. “Alas, gentlemen. I believe we have no choice but to investigate the island. Get ready to get your socks wet.”

  “You reckon that’s wise?” Ronan asked. “We have no idea what happened to the crew.”

  “No, but what choice do we have? We have no crew. If someone has taken them, then we have a chance of saving them if we act fast. I know it’s a risk, but we are none the wiser by staying here.”

  “Right on, chief. Lead the way.” Rust said.

  When Ronan jumped off the ship, he prepared himself mentally before he submerged under the ice-cold water. He was pleasantly surprised to find the sea lukewarm. It was a weird feeling for someone who had gotten used to the cold Northern Islands. Still, it was surprising—they hadn’t travelled that
far yet, had they? And then there was the strange vegetation on this island.

  Dripping water like a wet dog, Ronan marveled the strange, thick jungle around him. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before. Had they ventured off-course? There was no way the barren north had turned into this lush tropic so fast.

  Rose knelt to the ground, feeling the sand beneath. “See? Footprints. At least a dozen men passed through here, and not more than an hour ago; the sand is still wet. It looks like they ventured straight forward.”

  Raven shrugged. “This smells an awful lot like a trap to me, but I’m afraid we have no choice here. We press on.”

  With Raven in their lead, they ventured towards the strange jungle ahead of them. The air around Ronan felt humid, intoxicating. Had the temperature risen during their swim to the shore? There was something… strange about this island. Something unnatural. Ronan felt his anxiety spike, followed by a pounding headache; it felt like his head was about to burst.

  “I feel… strange,” Ronan said nervously.

  “I feel it too,” Rust grunted.

  “You reckon it’s wise to venture so far offshore? What if the crew comes back and leaves without us?” Ronan said through clenched teeth, wiping away the sweat that kept falling into his eyes.

  “Then we’re fucked. Quit your whining and follow,” Rose barked. Ronan wanted to say that the girl felt the same pressing atmosphere as he did, but he wasn’t sure.

  “While I don’t appreciate the lady’s tone, I’m afraid she’s right, Ronan. We have no choice but to press forward. I don’t feel… comfortable leaving one of us alone right now.”

  “Right,” Ronan muttered. He looked back longingly back in the direction he knew the ship to be. When he turned back to say something to Raven, he was startled when he saw no one.