The Last Swordsman

by Benjamin Corman

  The small vessel moved upriver for hours, the night dark and quiet, as the craft cut through the water. It wasn’t until the sun had started to crest the horizon that another boat came into view ahead. It appeared small at first but grew in size the closer they came to it. It wasn’t until they were nearly upon it that Nikolis could make out the ship entirely.

  It was perhaps fifty feet in length, with a long, rounded hull that sat halfway in the water. Extending out on either side were wood hewn pontoons that ran nearly the entire length of the ship and kept the vessel level and afloat. Its hull was coated in a dark lacquer, and the sails were black as night. Ten oars sprouted from either side of the ship, dipping into the water and then rising in unison.

  As the smaller vessel approached, this new ship brought in its sails, and Nikolis watched as the twenty oars went up in unison and retreated into the boat. Lerch and Jones worked their craft toward the larger one, taxiing alongside its hull. When they were close enough, they threw a line up over the ship’s rail, and a rope ladder was lowered from the deck.

  Nikolis motioned for Lerch and Jones to climb first, and then led Gek over to the ladder. He made the man climb slow and steady, following closely behind him with his sword raised. Having only one free hand did not make for easy climbing, but he managed. “Make one false move and I’ll skewer you,” Nikolis threatened. “I’ve the perfect vantage.” Gek said not a word in response, knowing how vulnerable his posterior currently was, climbing the ladder hand over hand.

  When they reached the deck, Gek climbed over the rail, followed closely by Nikolis, who set his sword point firmly in the other man’s back. “Take me to him,” was all he said, and then they were heading toward the stern.

  The wood planked deck was narrow and empty, bearing two masts from which twin sails rose. There was the occasional barrel or coil of rope, but the deck was otherwise sparse. The barrels appeared to store water and other rations, and the rope on board was so large that it had to be nearly as thick as Nikolis’ arm. As they moved toward the rear of the ship, more and more men began to appear from behind a barrel or an opening in the deck. Surly men the lot of them, with unshaven faces and unkempt hair, bearing scars and baring yellowed or missing teeth. Lerch and Jones kept a careful distance from Nikolis, but he knew they would still kill him where he stood, if he gave them the slightest chance.

  When they got to a small cabin at the rear of the vessel, a thin, bald man stepped out in front of them. His clothes were stained and tattered, and a long, thick-bladed dagger hung at his waist. “What d’ya want?” he croaked.

  “I want to see No-Eye Nake,” Nikolis said, his voice faltering slightly. He was now entirely surrounded by men on all sides – large men and small, but all looking fierce and angry.

  “Ya want ta see Nake?” the man asked.

  “Aye,” said Nikolis.

  From the helm, atop the fore cabin, a tall, lithe form appeared. It was a man in perhaps his fiftieth year, with a weathered face, and long gray hair. He wore a long dark coat, and held a large cutlass, resting casually on his shoulder. “What’ya want of him?” the old man demanded, staring down at Nikolis.

  “To barter for passage. Upriver.”

  “This is how ya seek out our favor? With a sword at one o’ me brother’s backs?”

  “It was the only way I could think to find you.”

  The old man crossed the small deck toward a short stair, and slowly descended, one purposeful step after the other. All about him Nikolis saw hands slowly moving toward daggers and axes and swords. He readjusted his grip on his own weapon and made sure it was still well planted into Gek’s back.

  “To be fair,” Nikolis said finally, “your men attacked me. I was but defending myself.”

  “Which man attacked you?” the old man asked, eyeing Gek up and down, and then moving to Lerch and Jones.

  “All of them,” Nikolis replied.

  “All o’ them?” asked the old man, once again moving between the three men, and looking them over.

  “Yes.”

  “Is this true, men?”

  The three men looked to one another, and then Lerch lowered his head, and Jones scratched his chin nervously. Gek finally spoke up, saying, “He took us unawares.”

  Silence followed, and then a deep, throaty laugh sounded from somewhere in the assembled crowd. The bald man and the old one turned to their left, as did Gek and Lerch and Jones. A tall, young man stepped out from the crowd, his hand to his stomach, roaring into the open air. He was thin, dressed in a short, black coat, with cuffed sleeves, and shiny brass buttons. His long, brown hair was tied back neatly, a cutlass sheathed at his waist. Over his left eye was a dark, cloth patch.

  “This man took the three of you unawares, as you preyed on him from the river?” the young man asked, incredulous. The three men lowered their heads in shame, offering not a word of explanation. “Gek Tradebuck, Lerch Kinney, and Waley Jones, what am I to do with you?”

  “Throw them to the fishes!” one man cried out. All was silent for a long moment, and then the entire assemblage broke out into fits of laughter. Soon even Gek, Lerch, and Jones were joining in the mirth.

  “Put your weapons away,” the young man said, as the laughter began to die down. “You as well,” he added, turning to Nikolis. “If you’re to ride aboard my ship, you must follow my rules. We do not settle our differences with swords.”

  Nikolis tightened his grip on his sword, and then finally relented as he saw all of the others sheath or discard their weapons. He took his blade away from Gek’s back and sheathed it at his waist.

  As the sword was removed from Gek’s back, the massive man turned and put his fist across Nikolis’ jaw, sending the younger man sprawling to the floor. The black-coated man appeared over Nikolis, his one good eye gleaming in dawning sunlight.

  “We settle them with our fists,” said the man who was most obviously No-Eye Nake, extending a hand down to him. Nikolis fought to control his swimming head, angry at first, but then relenting and taking the young man’s hand. When he stood, the man clapped him on the back, and the whole ship began laughing again. As Nikolis watched this strange young man bellowing with his comrades, he couldn’t help but join in.

  Many days later Nikolis found himself scrubbing at a bright, green spot on the deck with a brush, then dipping it into a pail of seawater, and scrubbing again. He sighed. It just would not come out. Though the band of raiders had agreed to take him upriver, Nake had said he would have to earn his keep. Scrubbing the deck, straightening the lines, tightening this sail or loosening that, were all his duties now. It was tiring work, but at least it kept his mind occupied. What lay ahead when he reached his destination was not a settling thought and though they were making good speed, they were not moving nearly as quickly as he had hoped.

  All twenty oars ripped through the water all day long. The River Rake’s team did not rest until it was dark. On the deck men hustled all about him, tying lines, or moving crates. The black sails of the first night he had encountered the ship had not been in evidence since. Instead, they had been replaced with the routine, white canvas of any other vessel.

  Olly, the old man Nikolis had originally mistaken for Nake, moved about the deck with his cutlass over his shoulder, smiling, always smiling. Whether he was barking orders or sharing a jest with the lads, he smiled. Nikolis saw Gek and Lerch and Jones now and then, but if they bore him any ill will over their first meeting, they did not show it. Gek did not seem overly pleased by his presence, but Lerch managed a nod now and then and Jones, even a smile.

  The only time any of them got rest was when they got word that a patrol boat was nearby. These were large crafts, with three masts, that went up and down the White out of Riverend. When word got to them from a passing ship that one of these patrols was about, Nake would order their vessel into a small inlet or nearby cove of rock outcroppings. These were clever little nooks that the crew knew well and did the job of obscuring them perfectly.

&nb
sp; On one occasion Nikolis managed to catch a glimpse of the patrol ship as it passed and saw that they flew both the gold and red flag of Highkeep and the flag of their own city: a black bridge on a field of white. The men aboard were dressed in tunics and breeches of white and light blue and stood about the rails scanning in every direction. It seemed that these men too, had gotten word of the raiders, but Nake always managed to outsmart them.

  The young, black-coated fellow, for all his mirth, was nothing but serious when they were about business. His commitment to his tasks almost frightened Nikolis, until one day when he realized that what he saw in the man was a lot of what he felt himself. It was difficult to process that, being what these raiders were about, but Nikolis couldn’t help but slowly develop a sense of camaraderie with them.

  The band acted as a team well enough, with only the occasional scrap that was over almost as soon as it was started. A few shouted curses, a jab or two, and then the conflict was done. Though the men had their differences, on one thing that they all seemed to agree: No-Eye Nake was their leader. Nikolis heard not a curse or a grumble of disagreement from the crew, where their captain was concerned. It was hard to imagine how someone so young, commanded such loyalty. What was the story of this crew?

  “My father was Mean Nake,” No-Eye said one day, almost as if he had heard Nikolis’ unspoken questions. The captain had sat down beside Nikolis as he sat on the deck, biting at some dry cheese. “I was born James, of a woman at a local pub my father used to frequent. I lived in that small town for some years, but by the time I was ten or so, my father came and took me away. I was sad at first, but as soon as my feet hit this deck, I knew I was home.”

  “What happened to your father?” Nikolis dared to ask.

  “He retired,” said Nake with a laugh. “He had done fairly well for himself and decided that he had run this river long enough. Got himself a small house and a round wife and settled down in the country.”

  “Sounds like a nice life.”

  “Maybe I’ll think so, one day,” said Nake as he stared off into the rippling water. Then the raider explained that he took his father’s name and his ship, though he had had to deal with some initial dissension from the crew. Nikolis thought about asking Nake where his other name had come from, as he studied the dark patch covering one of his eyes, but he dared not. He wondered why Nake was telling him this, but if the raider had a reason, he did not share it. Nikolis said nothing more and neither did No-Eye. The two sat on the deck, the cool breeze that was coming off of the water, pulling at their clothes and hair.

  Something must have caught Nake’s attention, for he jumped to his feet and moved to the ship’s rail. Olly and a few others soon joined him, and they were all scanning the shoreline. Nikolis tried to make out what it was they were looking at, but all he saw was a small caravan moving some distance off, parallel to the bank. It was but a carriage and a few riders, and Nikolis could not imagine it was what they were all so interested in.

  Within moments, Nake had backed away from the rail, and was issuing orders to make for a small cove that he knew of not too far upriver. They were nestled inside a small cavern, soon after, the white sails coming down, and after dark, the black set once again on the lines.

  Sweat ran down Nikolis’ spine as he helped the other men hoist up the dark canvas. It was inevitable what they were about, and he now understood why the caravan had piqued such interest.

  Nikolis found Nake when he was finished with the sails. “I must be upriver. With all haste.” The words came less from his urgency now, and more from his desire to stop them from doing what they were about to.

  “I did not say we would pass by opportunities to do our work,” Nake replied. “I said only that I would allow you to come along with us.”

  “You said you would take me as far as the Kingspear.”

  “I said you’d have to earn your keep,” Nake replied. Suddenly the meaning of those words had changed entirely.

  When a sliver of moon was high in the night sky, Nake ordered the ship out of the cavern, and they were soon moving up the river again. After less than an hour, a small orange glow could be seen off in the distance, on the western bank. A smaller vessel was lowered into the water, and then several men were climbing over the side to get into it. At last Nake moved toward the rail, and then he turned and motioned for Nikolis to come with him. At first, he hesitated, but then Nake said, “It is to our brothers that we do not raise arms against. Can we call you that?” With the dozens of large, armed men about him, Nikolis decided this was not the best time to start an argument. He followed Nake over the side of the ship and into the other vessel.

  Silently the men rowed the ship up the river and then toward the western bank. It was a while before Nikolis realized Gek was among them, glaring silently at Nikolis as they went. Perhaps he had overestimated the man’s forgiveness. When the ship was close enough to the shore, two of the men slipped into the water and pulled the boat onto the bank.

  “I will go no further,” Nikolis said, as the other men piled out.

  “Nor will I,” added Nake. He rested a hand on the hilt of his cutlass, and eyed Nikolis. The other men made no comment, slipping silently toward the glow of a small campfire.

  Within moments shouts were heard and then the neighing of horses rose up into the night. There were curses and threats, but the raiders were quick about their business, and before too much time had passed all was silent again. Nikolis clenched his fists at his sides, trying not to imagine what was going on just out of sight.

  “There are things in this word that must be done,” Nake said, almost as if in way of explanation. “They may not be pleasant things, but someone has to tend to them.”

  Nikolis tried to contain a scoff. What is the man talking about? Could he possibly be so deluded? Nake only arched an eyebrow at Nikolis and then turned back toward the woods.

  The raiders returned a short while later, their arms full of all manner of bundles. One man took a knife dark and wet, and wiped it on the grass before sheathing it. None of them said a word, only clambered into their boat and pushed back out onto the White River.

  They rowed upstream for some time, though Nikolis wasn’t sure why. All he could do was stare at the bundles under their arms and grit his teeth. What had he stood by and let them do? Sure, he was outnumbered, but he had been so before. Yes, he had known from the beginning what they were about. But he realized that all this while, he had hoped beyond all hopes that he would not have to stand by and witness it happening. He tried to tell himself that his journeying with them was all a means to a greater end, but he could no longer convince himself of it.

  He was drawn from his thoughts by a sudden glow that materialized from somewhere off in the distance. They were surrounded by a thick fog that clung to the river, and so the light shone bright in the gloom. As they got closer to it, he realized it was a lamp, and after a few more moments could make out a small, wooden dock, jutting out onto the river. A cloaked figure stood at the end of the dock and took their line when they threw it out. It was tied fast to a post, and then the boat was pulled toward the shore.

  Gek climbed onto the dock, followed by Nake, who motioned for Nikolis to follow. Hesitantly, Nikolis climbed up. When he was firmly on his feet, he put a hand to the hilt of his sword as casually as he could manage. In the ship, the men started to unload their bundles, placing them up on the dock.

  The cloaked figure turned about and waved a hand toward the woods. Several other figures appeared, similarly shrouded, moving quickly but quietly toward them. Without a word they retrieved the bundles and made off toward the woods again. When only one bundle remained on the dock, Nake bent and picked it up. Untying it he laid it open. Inside were coins of copper and silver and even a few of gold, glimmering in the firelight. Nake rewrapped the bundle then handed it over to the cloaked form that stood beside him.

  The figure snaked a hand out and took the load. The movement allowed Nikolis to see something
small in its other arm, something odd, which was held near to its breast. It took him a moment to make it out, but he soon realized it was a babe, sleeping silently, tucked against this person’s body. The figure stepped toward the light and Nikolis could suddenly make out the face beneath the dark cowl. It was that of a woman, worn and bearing more wrinkles than a woman of her age should have. But despite that, she smiled.

  “Thank you, Nake,” she whispered. “We’ll make it another year for sure, with this. The whole village is in your debt.”

  Nake gave her a hug, and then sent her on her way. He then turned to Gek and asked, “How many men died tonight of the lord’s party we attacked?”

  “None,” Gek replied.

  “How many this month?” Nake asked.

  “None,” Gek replied, again.

  “How many in the last five years?”

  “None that could be helped.”

  Nake turned to Nikolis and stared at him. He bore a hole deep into Nikolis’ heart with his one good eye, holding the moment uncomfortably. “Let’s be off,” he said finally, turning away.

  As they made their way back out onto the river, Nikolis was still unsure whether or not he condoned what had taken place, but the compulsion to draw his sword was no longer foremost in his thoughts. They were back on the ship in less than an hour, and then almost as quickly, back about their voyage.

  As they continued making their way upriver, the days grew hot. Nikolis threw himself into his work, trying not to think about the torrent of thoughts assaulting his mind. Within minutes of starting a task, sweat coated his back and chest. The occasional breeze was euphoric, but no matter how hard he tried, dark thoughts found a way of creeping back into his mind. About what had happened, and what was to come, about the raiders and the Do’shibu, about Highkeep and Seaport and about what he had to do.