After days of hunger she is visited by a buffalo man who asks her if she is ready for what she will see. Her vision is of her tribe before she was born, observing how the demon Gawl Tegyr possessed their shaman Greytooth to take the form of her father and lay with her mother. The buffalo man confirms that nine months later, Neenahwi was born. She is distraught but determined to see more.
Her next vision is a plunge further back into the well of time, to see Llewdon with his fellow elvish leaders. They argue about what to do about the humans outside their borders and worry about Myank’s sudden disappearance. Llewdon commits to research further to find out if Myank has ascended to be a god.
Neenahwi’s next vision is of Llewdon torturing a human woman who entered the woods of Pyrfew. She reveals herself to be Tarra, one of the six students of Myank, the others being Serenus, Wilpert, Ridwan, Kirjath and Jyuth. A final vision comes to Neenahwi of Llewdon drawing all of the elves together in one place with the expressed purpose of erecting an impenetrable golden globe around their whole nation, using a small portion of each of their life force to do so. But Llewdon has double crossed the elves, taking all of their mana to power his own jealousy-driven attempt to become a god. But at the last moment the elves curse Llewdon that he can no longer use his magic to destroy. The elves die and Llewdon disappears, but moments later he returns, beaten and near death. And clearly not a god.
The vision ends and the buffalo man warns her that history turns in circles and gives her the choice of “do something, or do nothing” before he disappears. Neenahwi cries an oath to destroy Llewdon, accepting her purpose in life.
Part I
Redpool
Chapter 1
Fire and Turtles
Thrum. Thrum. Thrum.
Bolts a yard long, topped with steel barbs, launched across the hundred feet of sea from The Drake to crash across the prow of the lone Pyrfew ship. Neenahwi watched with a mixture of regret and grim satisfaction as sailors were ripped apart by the flurry of missiles from the score of repeating ballistae. She clenched her teeth as the bolts passed through their soft obstacles and smashed into the wood of the mast or the aft castle.
Admiral Crews had told her that this Pyrfew ship was bigger than what was typical; this beast of creaking wood and sail, five decks, three masts and towers fore and aft, must be a product of the Ioth shipyards. Easily the size of a first-class vessel of the Edland navy.
Neenahwi turned to watch a sheep-sized boulder splash into the water between The Drake and The Orca, following neatly in line behind. The catapult positioned on the aft castle of their prey—its second shot spent without affect—began to crank back its arm for a second salvo. But The Orca came into range and bolts from its rail-lined ballista tore the catapult to pieces under sustained fire. Dwarven armaments. Well worth the expense.
Men ran to the railing on the Pyrfew ship, as if to wave to a passing pleasure cruiser. A dark cloud, moving unnaturally, launched into the sky, a blemish on the brilliant blue backdrop.
“Take cover!” went the call from the barrelman of The Drake. Edland marines and sailors alike ducked under whatever cover was close at hand; shields, lids of barrels, or crouching behind timber walls. But Neenahwi did not duck, or cover, or even move.
Arrows thudded all around her. She saw one arrow take a marine, armored in hardened leather, just below the ear, slicing through her neck and coming out the other side. She fell, gurgling, reaching uselessly to her throat as her lifeblood bubbled up from her mouth. Neenahwi instinctively reached out a hand to move to help but she knew she could do nothing. She knew this woman would be but the first of good men and women to die in this conflict; Neenahwi clenched her fists and knew it would be worse if they couldn’t prevail.
Above her purple robe, high on her chest, rested a red stone pendant. Blood trickled between her breasts, staining her clothes from the small wound it caused. Arrows that should have rightfully left her looking like a hedgehog stopped a few inches from her person, ricocheting uselessly to the floor. Hardened air surrounded her, one aspect of Neenahwi’s mind concentrating on the shield as she watched the attack of the Pyrfew vessel. She knew if she called on the full power of the demon stone that she could have stopped this barrage of arrows—by Marlth, she could have blown this ship out of the water—but she was still mindful of the advice of her father not to draw too deeply on its power. She could feel the rage nagging at the edge of her mind with even this modest use.
“Clear!” went the call from above as The Drake passed out of bow range. But the Pyrfew vessel was not so safe. The Drake was just the first ship of the line, the flagship of Admiral Crews. Behind came two more first-class vessels and another pair of smaller second-class ships. All armed with dwarven-made repeating ballistae - the most feared weapon on the three seas. The crew of The Drake rushed to the railing or the stern to watch the carnage unfold behind them and Neenahwi found herself calmly drawn to follow.
She climbed the stairs up to the aft castle, noting Crews standing with an eyeglass to his face, calmly dictating orders to both the wheelman and a girl whirling a pair of flags in semaphore. From her vantage point, Neenahwi saw the second ship come under fire from a volley of arrows, but less so than the steel-tipped hail storm they’d just endured—no doubt the archers had been wounded by another broadside of missiles.
The third Edland ship neared within a hundred feet, with its smaller shadow of the next second-class ship close behind, and more destruction was unleashed. Neenahwi couldn’t see the bolts flying through the air—their speed was too great and the distance too far. But she could see explosions of wood and flesh as they ripped across the deck. Screams carried in the air over the noise of the sea. The second mast of the Pyrfew ship came under repeated fire and with an audible crack, the tall length holding the three sails split like a tree struck from the heavens. The mast buckled, colliding into its tall neighbor before it slid slowly down, ripping down the sails, rigging and the seamen who had been climbing them. The sailors hit the deck of the ship, or the water around them, before the mast finished its journey to crash down.
“Well,” said Neenahwi more to herself than anyone in particular, “that should do it.”
“Not yet, my lady,” said Crews without turning from his lookout. “Let us be certain before we board her. Ensign, signal The Otter to engage.”
Three months had passed since the election. Since her father had disappeared in the night—though to be fair, he had warned her he was going to do that.
It had been two months since her Quana, the vision quest where she had to finally accept who she was and why she was still alive. She had to stop Llewdon, god Emperor of Pyrfew and destroyer of his own race, before he unleashed who-knew-what cataclysm on the people of the Jeweled Continent. Or on the remnants of her own people. Though they were so very far away, and she was now tasked with protecting Edland, she would never forget that she had to free them.
The visions had brought on a rage within her, seeing Llewdon up close, even though the events she had witnessed had occurred more than a millennium ago. Seeing the man, or rather the elf, responsible for the destruction of her family and friends, for her abduction and captivity—even though that seemed trifling given his other horrors—and gaining an understanding that this was all due to some petty jealousy, incensed her.
She wanted his head.
And if she had to go through the people of Pyrfew, the fools who followed and revered this monster, then so be it.
Now, as she walked across a gangplank to the stricken Pyrfew ship, following a few steps behind Admiral Crews, she saw Pyrfew blood bathing the wooden deck. The first blow. Something she had been impatient for. The scene disgusted her, but she reminded herself that acts like these were necessary.
Once she had completed her visit with Kanaveen, she had gone back to Mareth, now Lord Protector of Edland, and assumed her father’s old role of adviser. She had strategized with him and his counsel; Lady Grey the new chancellor; Crews, the new
admiral after that unfortunate incident with Ridgton and the burning brothel; and Lord Marshall Uthridge, another man she thought of as family. They had expected that the new Pyrfew fleet that had set sail from the shipyards of Ioth would mean an attack on Redpool would be forthcoming, but instead it had been quiet seas. Merchants who called Kingshold home had spied Pyrfew ships on the Sapphire Sea, but they had been surprisingly unmolested. And the Edland navy had been frustratingly unsuccessful in their hunt; the Pyrfew fleet proving elusive.
Her father had preached patience. But she needed to do something. Her visions had been for a purpose and she was not achieving anything sitting in Kingshold. So she had lobbied that they take the fight to Pyrfew. Shore up Redpool. Take to the Sapphire Sea in greater numbers and hunt down the fleet. That she could personally cover hundreds of miles a day with a fair wind to find these bastards had swayed the counsel to her side.
The fight following the boarding was not one for the tavern minstrels. Two hundred marines from The Orca and The Falcon had grappled the Pyrfew ship after coming alongside. Pyrfew resistance had been limited after being greatly softened up from the barrage of missiles. But any who had put up a fight had been put down with crossbow or axe. The scene before her was a madman’s abattoir; limbs ripped from their owners by the force of the ballistae lay scattered around. Heads caved in by axes or falling timbers presented a grisly welcome. Neenahwi couldn’t help but think of her own massacred tribe. Who had stepped through the carnage there once morning had come? She pushed aside a momentary reflection that she was no better than the man she was determined to bring to justice. No. This had to be done. And it will not be the last.
She had found this ship. It was Neenahwi who had soared the skies. Not in her usual guise as a goose, but as an albatross; a solitary bird known to be bad luck to sailors. And she had most definitely been the bearer of bad fortune for this vessel.
The Pyrfew crew looked much like that which had escorted her; humans of light and dark skin, some old enough to be fathers and others young enough to be their children. Were they evil? Who knew what they may have done in the dark? What they might have done in the future? But she doubted it. They were chattel to Llewdon and she would add it to the list of his crimes.
A man wearing a coat of bright green decorated with brass buttons was pushed through a crowd of captives by a pair of burly marines.
“So, Edland attacks solitary ships at sea, now? Showing your true colors as the pirates you are?” The captain of the captured ship spat at their feet.
Crews ignored his phlegm and his barbs. “What is your name and what are you doing in these waters?”
“I am Captain Bhaga,” the man said proudly. “We were patrolling against pirates. We were no threat to you!”
“I find that difficult to believe,” snorted Crews. “Since when has Pyrfew had an interest in trade on these seas?”
“What will you do with my crew?” asked Captain Bhaga, ignoring the question. Neenahwi twisted her braid in her fingers. She didn’t believe his story either. Why was there a lone ship when there should be a fleet many times its size?
Crews raised his voice so the captives could hear him. “Any who have surrendered will be taken to Redpool. From there you will be free. Free to choose to stay in Edland if you wish. Free from your tyrant!”
From the looks on the faces of the prisoners, it didn’t seem that most were too excited by this prospect. Real love for their ruler? Or a reluctance to leave their families behind and be branded a traitor?
“Now,” said Crews, his voice returning to a conversational tone, “Captain Bhaga. You will be well treated. My personal guest. Tell me, why are you alone? Why leave the safety of your other ships?”
“And spoil any surprise?” A dark smirk spread slowly across Bhaga’s face. “I don’t think so. I will speak no more.”
“Get him out of here,” snapped Crews impatiently. “Put him in a guest room on The Drake. Two guards at all times.” The marines nodded in acknowledgment and marched the captain away. Crews looked at Neenahwi and then guided her toward a quiet area of the deck with a light touch. They stepped over discarded butcher’s scraps; Neenahwi lifted her purple robes up around her ankles so as not to spoil the hem. The laundry facilities at sea were not the best.
“Do you know what he hints of? Did you see other ships?”
Neenahwi slowly shook her head. “There was nothing in sight when I came across this one. But you said it yourself, it’s pretty stupid for one ship to be alone.”
“Hmmm, sometimes I hate to be right—”
“Sails! Four o’clock!” came a cry from the lookout deck high up the mainmast of The Drake.
“Blast.” Crews brought his enameled looking-glass to his eye and peered at the horizon. He rested one foot on the ship’s railing, his profile statuesque against the natural azure curtain; Neenahwi had to admit he did cut quite the dashing figure. What was it about sailors? “I can’t see a thing. How many?” he called in return to the lookout, while he scanned the seas.
“Maybe… ten sails!”
“Double blast!” Crews turned back to Neenahwi. “We must be back to the ship, my lady. There is more work to do.”
“What if we’re outnumbered?” she asked, wrapping her arms across her chest.
“You saw how easily we were victorious today. These crews do not know how to sail their ships yet. My fleet is skilled. Each worth at least three of their vessels. And I do not intend for them to capture our spoils.”
“Why not just set it on fire and let’s be gone?” suggested Neenahwi. Something nagged at her. This did not feel right. Why would Llewdon send these ships out to sea, knowing they could be picked off by Edland? It might be better to draw these other vessels behind them and set a trap where they could be sure of superior numbers.
Crews, however, looked aghast at the suggestion. “My lady! We do not do that in the Edland navy. They have surrendered and they are under my protection.”
Neenahwi sighed. The same code of honor as her Uncle. She wondered how long it would last if war truly erupted.
“Can you conduct a reconnaissance and see what we are dealing with? So we might be prepared?” he asked.
She nodded. Now faced with another battle and the thought of more casualties—even her enemies—she found her blood lust receding. “I’ll find you when I am done.”
Neenahwi left Crews and crossed the gang plank once more. The swaying of the ship was still something she was uncomfortable with, and now with congealed blood coating her boots and filling her nostrils, she steeled herself not to fall or stumble. She went at once to her quarters at the rear of the ship; a simple private room with a hammock and a large floor cushion. A double rectangular window let in the light from the stern of the ship—one of her few demands for assisting with this plan. She sure as shit wasn’t going to parade around naked before the crew.
She disrobed and flung open the windows. Perching on the window sill, Neenahwi took a deep breath and fragmented her mind, forming an image of the albatross. The hooked beak, the downy white feathers on wings that stretched out wide, the webbed feet; all down to the smallest detail. For those details were important; screw one of those up and the natural elegance of this master of flying would be disrupted.
Neenahwi the albatross leapt into the air, wings beating, unconcerned with the crowds gathered at the railings of the ships nearby watching their wizard at work.
She hurried up to the deck, still fastening the belt around her robes after dressing, to find Crews waiting for her.
“There are fifteen ships. We have to get out of here.”
The admiral puffed his cheeks and blew, spinning on his heel as he thought. “What do they look like?” he asked.
Neenahwi sighed, frustration and anxiety building within her. “Three as big as this one,” she said, pointing to the captured ship bobbing listlessly without sails off their starboard bow. “Twelve smaller ones, with just the one mast.”
“Like
a scout ship? A trader?”
“I don’t bloody know, Crews. I’m a wizard not a fucking fisherman.” Not being able to answer his questions more helpfully was painful to her; it wasn’t normal for her knowledge to be so limited. But she also thought that it didn’t bloody matter given the number of them. “It’s more than we have. Why not run? Let’s pull them back to Redpool where we have more ships.”
Crews fixed a fake smile above his strong jawline. She knew she was pushing him, especially in public like this, but she didn’t imagine her father would have been quiet either.
“They won’t follow, my lady. They will take back our prize and then we will lose them. We have searched for their new fleet, even a fraction of it, and now with your help we have found them.”
“Don’t pat me on the head, Crews. I’m not going to just roll over and let you rub my belly. Sink the ship and they’ll have nothing.”
“I will not!” he barked, almost forgetting his patient facade. But it was just a moment, his varnished exterior returning. “We will meet them, and we will show them who rules the waves. Maybe you would like to retire to your quarters?” He turned on his heel and walked to the aft castle without waiting for a response.
“Not bloody likely,” she muttered under her breath, suddenly unsure what to do. She paced a circle as Crews dispatched his orders to the captains that had hastily assembled on The Drake. The men and women nodded their acceptance without a word of complaint or challenge and returned to their boats and teams of oarsmen for the short crossing back to their ships.
Neenahwi stood in the center of the main deck and watched as sailors scurried like ants around her; industrious, but to what purpose she was not sure. Marines left behind to guard their prize waved to their friends as The Drake pushed away. She was in the way. Neenahwi walked to the prow and rested a hand on the great figurehead of the winged drake as she watched the fleet set sail to meet the Pyrfew ships now visible on the horizon.
Ioth, City of Lights Page 2
