Heroes of Time Legends: Murdoch's Choice

by Wayne D. Kramer

  He saw a large, crystal-clear lake. He saw the rocky ramp leading to a ledge high above the water…and he saw his crew, bound together like an oversized bundle of firewood.

  “Captain!” several members of his crew shouted.

  “Is everyone okay?” he called back, his voice reverberating in the cavern.

  “We’re here, Captain!” Dippy said.

  “Yes, we’re all here!” spoke the crackly voice of Garrick Rummy. His ugly mug appeared from a shadow of the cave. “And you, Murdoch—or Macpherson, I should say—have ye the Grimstone?”

  “I take it you haven’t already found it, then?” Zale asked.

  Seadread’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t be playing games with me. Ye clearly weren’t with yer crew when we paid our little visit. So, we’ll make this very simple.” He held out his hand. “Hand it over, and your crew lives t’ see tomorrow.”

  “Rummy, you can’t seriously mean to shove an entire crew from your own guild into a lake just to win a single bounty.”

  Seadread gave a slight tilt of his head. “It’s nothin’ personal, Murdoch. Just business.”

  Zale held his saber before him. “Let them go, Garrick.”

  “What can ye do, Zale?” Seadread said with a cackle. “Will ye fight me and a gaggle of grimkins with naught but yer blade and an overgrown bilge rat?”

  Boomer hissed.

  Zale heard some shuffling along the walls. The rest of Rummy’s grimkin army—around twenty—was spread throughout the cave. Zale would not take their smaller numbers for granted. Clearly even this many had managed to subdue and capture his entire crew.

  “Your hired army’s a lot smaller since I last saw you.”

  “I assure ye, this is the most ruthless of the lot, every one armed with byrne.”

  “Even if I had the Grimstone to give you,” said Zale, “I have no reason to trust you’d just let us go.”

  “Aye, ye know me well enough, Zale. I give ye this assurance. Hand it over, and I will leave back to me ship, with half me forces. We’ll even take all the byrne with us. You’ll remain here, and half an hour later the remaining grimkins will free yer crew. This way there’ll be no chasin’ me down before I get to me ship. It’s the best I can do, ye’ll understand, given the circumstances.”

  Zale seethed at what Rummy was doing. Carefully, he tried to consider his options. He looked around at the grimkins. One of them, dressed in dark red, wore a particularly deep glare. It kept its comrades steady with a motion of its arm. Zale realized this was their leader.

  He looked all about the cavern, as though a panacea might suddenly appear to him. He ran his hand down his coat, perhaps a signal of nerves to Rummy, and felt the items still tucked within. He looked up at his crew and made eye contact with Kasper and Evette and others who were watching him back.

  It was time to make his move.

  CHAPTER 12

  VOID CONTAINMENT

  8/9/3203

  Zale gave Seadread his hardest stare. He sheathed his saber. “Fine, Garrick. We’ll play at your game.”

  A smarmy smile crossed Rummy’s lips. “I’d hoped ye’d make the right choice. Now, let’s be on with it.” His palm upturned, he curled his fingers expectedly.

  Zale reached into his coat. His hand brushed over the lump of the Grimstone casing in his pocket. When his hand came back out, it was extended by a ghostly white glow.

  Seadread stared at the light, his expression mesmerized. “Is that…?”

  “Nope!” Zale shouted.

  The light of Fulgar’s anelace intensified in his grasp. He pointed it directly at the grimkin commander standing by the wall behind Rummy. A blast of energy shot forth, a stream of pulsing white spheres. A few of the grimkins, along with the commander, were sent sprawling, ricocheting off the cave wall along with a shower of rocks.

  Zale was as shocked as anyone, but now was not the time to question his fortunes.

  At first Rummy’s jaw dropped in surprise, but soon his face twisted with rage, baring yellow teeth. He drew his sword. “Damn ye to the depths, Murdoch!” He turned to the flustered group of grimkins. “Come on, ye feathered scrubs! Attack!”

  Zale’s crew sprang into action, flinging away the ropes and netting that they had managed to cut through. They descended the rocky ledge and rushed at the grimkins unarmed, their cries and shouts filling the cavern. Zale glimpsed Starlina toward the rear of the bunch, Jensen keeping close, and he felt very relieved to see her unharmed.

  Yancy and Rosh and a few others claimed the dark-gray blades that had been dropped by Zale’s victims. Wigglebelly slammed his girth into one of the enemies, crushing it against the wall. Hookknee decked it in the beak before it could recover.

  Fulgar worked his way toward the edge of the melee, calling to Zale. “The novidian suits you, Captain!”

  “Here!” Zale shouted back, tossing the dagger. “Help the crew!”

  Fulgar caught it by the grip—it practically floated to his hand—and turned to engage the opposition.

  Zale looked down at Boomer and the small crossbow that he held. “Boomer, you too—go help!”

  “Yee, yee! RakakaKAAA!” he yelled, bounding off after Fulgar.

  “Father!” screamed Starlina. “Look out!”

  Zale turned just in time to see Seadread lash out with his sword. He stepped aside, drawing his saber, and traded a few blows with his rival.

  “Father, she says,” Seadread said. “I’m not sure which of the two of us wants more for honor, Zale. Me for turnin’ the grimkins on ye, or you for bringin’ yer own daughter to her death.”

  “That answer’s very simple, Garrick. You’re a slimy, traitorous ratbag.”

  “Well, we all have our qualities, don’t we?” He swung out again, striking Zale’s saber.

  Zale was heavy on his feet, but his arms were swift and precise. He parried up high, then low, trying to sneak in a stab to Seadread’s arm. There was a time in their rivalry when Zale considered Seadread merely ruthless, but never a cold-blooded murderer. That time had passed, and now Zale himself wondered how close he might be pushed to taking a fellow countryman’s life.

  Seadread tried all manner of dirty techniques. Jabs at the chest, swipes toward the throat, all while cackling through a throat that sounded ever parched with thirst. All his attempts were thwarted by Zale’s counterstrikes.

  Meanwhile, Zale’s crew continued to battle for position against the grimkins. He chanced a glimpse and observed a general deadlock in the brawl.

  Zale managed to rip a seam of Seadread’s coat near the shoulder.

  “Me best coat, Zale,” said Rummy. “Ye’ll be payin’ for that!”

  “Well, to be fair,” Zale huffed between heavy breaths, “you started it.”

  Seadread hopped upon a rock where the ground sloped upward toward the ledge above the lake, gaining slightly higher ground. Zale determined he’d had enough of this. In the seconds Seadread spent steadying himself upon the rock, Zale grabbed a stone from the floor and launched it, hitting Rummy squarely in the head. He tumbled backward, landing hard upon the bed of loose rocks beside the lake.

  Zale wiped sweat from his brow and stared at Seadread’s now-motionless form slumped upon the rocks. Zale breathed a sigh of relief.

  Then he looked to the battle between the grimkins—the prime of Seadread’s mercenaries—and his crew. Shaking out his shoulders, he readied himself for more action.

  “Starlina, stay close!” shouted Jensen from atop the ledge. A full close-combat brawl had erupted inside the cave. Free of their bindings, most of the crew had made it their priority to charge down from the ledge and into the mob of grimkins. Jensen had made it his priority to keep Starlina unharmed.

  They were relieved to see Captain Murdoch prevail against Seadread, but it was short-lived. Jensen had no weapon, and the slope leading up to the ledge was total mayhem. Behind them, perhaps fifteen feet below the ledge, was the subterranean lake. At the moment, about all he could do was watch and
stay alert.

  Several of the grimkins leapt forward, diving into crewmen’s shoulders and pushing them to the ground. Numerous deckhands took a solid beating—Sal, Snow, Jonas, Bert—but did their best to fight back.

  Evette and two of her oarsmen—Archie and Fritz—had managed to capture swords. Soon Yancy, Kasper, Kelvin, and Dippy had done the same, dueling and swinging as best they could manage in such a tight crowd.

  Fulgar struck in blurs of light, aiming for the black amulets that the grimkins wore around their necks. When his novidian dagger hit its mark, the amulets exploded into dark-purple clouds.

  At the edge of the fight, Captain Murdoch had just spun a grimkin around by the shoulders and bopped it between the eyes.

  “We’ve got to find a way down!” said Starlina.

  “Come on—we might be able to slip down the side here,” Jensen said.

  It was steep and rocky, and it would take them straight over the now-still lump of Seadread, but they could probably make it.

  He grabbed Starlina’s hand and had taken the first step over the side when a grimkin leapt out of nowhere and tackled him to the ground. It screeched angrily and punched his face and chest in rapid succession. Starlina shrieked and fell backwards.

  Jensen felt stunned, his jaw throbbing in pain. The grim-kin stood, lifted him by his shirt, and cuffed him again. Jensen finally gained enough clarity of mind to grapple the grimkin by its arms and push it off, taking his own swing at its face.

  The grimkin swung back, and Jensen dodged. It swung again, and Jensen pushed away its arm. They traded several jabs and kicks before grappling with each other and turning a dangerous circle near the ledge.

  Jensen landed a solid kick to its side and a right hook to its shoulder. The grimkin gave Jensen’s forehead a sharp peck with its beak. He stumbled back and fell to his rump in dizzying pain, his hands landing upon loose rocks.

  Starlina grabbed the grimkin from behind, slapping and scratching at its face. It was terribly swift and shouldered her off with little effort. She did her best to strike back, but the grimkin pushed through her hits, grabbed her by the arm, and yanked her over the ledge. Screaming, Starlina fell into the water below.

  “Starlina!” Jensen shouted. He sprang to his feet.

  The grimkin turned to him with a screech, and Jensen swung two rocks together to crack its beak, turning its face into a bloody mess. Jensen dropped the rocks and decked it three more times. It wavered, and Jensen kicked it into the rocks over the steep side of the ledge.

  Wasting not another moment, he jumped from the ledge into the lake below.

  Zale finally caught up with his crew as the battle in the cave raged on. Dippy ran up to greet him just beyond the edge of the battle.

  “Nicely played, Captain!” said Dippy.

  “And you!” Zale said. “Did someone have a knife stowed away?”

  “Kasper, sir! Ah, it’ll be a great story to relay over a stein of ale aboard the Queenie.”

  Zale nodded his approval. “No doubt it will. Let’s get these duck-brained fools off our backs and make for the ship.”

  “Captain!” called Fulgar, running to join Zale and Dippy. “Praise be to Eloh that you’re okay!”

  “Aye, I’m fine. We need to be on our way, Fulgar. Can you and your dagger make quick work of these remaining grimkins?”

  “I am trying my best, whilst not risking harm to the crew with anything too…explosive. These remaining foes are particularly strong in the Void. I aim for their byrne, but I must strike with care. Should one of them happen to turn my powers against us, it could be devastating.”

  Zale raised an eyebrow. “They can do that?”

  “Powerful Creepers—those well-practiced in the Void— should never be underestimated.”

  “We’ll not give them the chance!” Dippy said.

  Zale took a moment to observe the battle.

  A grimkin fell near the base of the slope with a strangled squawk, Yancy roaring in triumph.

  Boomer was a pure menace to the enemies, hopping about between heads, weaving around legs, and firing the occasional bolt from his miniature crossbow. Zale heard his animalistic cackle rise above the action and couldn’t help but smile.

  Murdoch’s Mates were holding their own, so far, and Zale was pleased with their number compared to the grimkins’. He was ready to join them, but first he needed this moment to debrief with Dippy and Fulgar.

  “Macpherson’s hiding place was…interesting,” Zale said, “like a sliver of the Shadow Age.”

  “Sir,” said Dippy, “did you say the…Shadow Age?”

  “That’s right, Dippy. I can’t tell you much from history, but that place felt very real and very disturbing.”

  Fulgar leaned in with interest. “Were you successful in your search?”

  “That I was,” Zale said.

  He pulled out the Grimstone casing and showed it to Fulgar.

  He glared at it, as though Zale were holding a rotten apple.

  “So much evil, in so small a container,” Fulgar said. “There are words on it.”

  “Dark opens dark.” Zale pushed the casing back out of view. “Do you know what it means?”

  Fulgar reared back his head and laughed. “That, Captain, is perhaps the easiest riddle of them all.” He reached into his own pocket and pulled out an amulet containing a black, purple-veined stone. “Byrne—the Dark Ethereal.”

  Zale took the amulet and stared at it, hardly believing that this could be the answer.

  “Where did you get this?” Zale asked.

  “The grimkins use it to conjure their powers of the Void. I took this from one of them. I meant to destroy it…but, well, you never know when a thing might come in useful…and here we are!”

  Fulgar’s words were almost like a cue, for at that moment darkness exploded between the grimkins and Murdoch’s crew. Screams of pain and terror filled the cavern. Several men were heaved high into the air.

  “No!” Fulgar shouted, dashing back toward the battle, glowing anelace in hand.

  There were not many grimkins remaining, but Zale realized that the gnarled-looking commander was among those still active.

  Several crewmen, including Rosh, writhed and howled upon the floor. “I can’t feel my arm!” Rosh bellowed. Yancy hastily dragged him back.

  “Regroup!” shouted Dippy. “Shield the injured!”

  Murdoch’s crew clustered together and positioned themselves to protect the wounded. Fulgar quickly made rounds among them, offering comfort and remedy where he could.

  Zale, still slightly removed from the main action, glared at their remaining foes. He was surprised to see only five, the commander included, given how much havoc they’d still managed to cause.

  “Grimkins of Akkadia!” Zale bellowed. “You’ve fought well and true to your charge. Enough of this! Your captain is down, and you are outnumbered. It is senseless to continue this contest! Let us reach a truce from this point, and we’ll depart unhindered with our wounded and fallen, each to their own ship, so that we can leave this cursed and forsaken land behind.”

  The grimkins’ dark eyes exchanged glances.

  “What say you?” Zale asked.

  “The curs-ed is you, filth of Tuscawny!” the commander hissed. “Standing in Gukhan, for us is honor most great!”

  “Our number is handily greater than yours,” Zale said.

  The commanding grimkin returned a sinister smile. “For us is plenty!”

  Before Zale could retort further, the commander squawked to its comrades. Its hard eyes fell upon Zale. Challenging him. Mocking him.

  “Is plenty for Void!” screeched the grimkin. “Watch and see!”

  The commander took byrne in its hand and created a grayish-silver, barely translucent field that completely encased Murdoch’s crew. Their shouts from within were heavily muffled by the barrier.

  “You yolk-headed swines!” Zale stepped toward them but soon stopped as the other four grimkins pointed thei
r swords and byrne in his direction.

  Fulgar, he thought. Fulgar is in there with his novidian.

  He hoped against hope that their spiritual guide would be strong enough to get them through this.

  Fulgar tightened his fingers around the novidian anelace and stared at the dome now surrounding him and the Queenie’s crew.

  “What is this?” several of the men asked. They pushed and kicked and struck at the anomaly, but it would not give.

  “They have surrounded us in an encasement of Void energy,” Fulgar said, trying his best to remain calm even as those around him became more frenzied.

  Boomer chittered and squealed like an oversized rodent freshly trapped. He kept throwing himself into the barrier, each attempt as futile as the last.

  Fulgar reached down and cupped his shoulder. “That will not help, my little friend.”

  “You can get us out of this, right?” asked Kasper.

  “I have heard of this power…although I have never encountered it.”

  “So…is that a maybe?” asked Yancy.

  Fulgar breathed out and breathed in, gauging his aura, trying to suppress the pains and stress signals radiating throughout his body. He had nearly overdone it multiple times today. This was the risk of having honed his abilities to the extent that he had. There was an inherent risk to channeling large amounts of ethereal energy through a human’s confined, mortal shell. Too much magnetism could deplete his essential metals. Too much electrical exertion might disrupt the impulses controlling his heartbeats. Much could go amiss. It was ever a balance.

  He tried stabbing at the barrier. It would not puncture. He pressed his hands against it, feeling the vibrations of the energy. Whiteness surrounded his points of contact, but it was not enough to break through.

  Everyone watched him.

  “I’ve had little chance to recuperate,” he said, removing his hands.

  “There must be some way out of this thing!” said Evette.

  “Aaaahhhh!” Jaxon, being the largest of them all, charged at the wall.

  “No, don’t—!” Fulgar shouted.

  It was too late. Jaxon ricocheted off the wall and fell like a giant lump of mashed potatoes.