Terry W. Ervin (41 page)

“Not exactly,” Lt. Colonel Ibrahim whispered to himself as he reached for the phone and watched the chaos unfold.

As midnight approached, Roos, Lilly and I stood in the shadow of a palisade surrounding the village of Hommel. The village stood just beyond the territory Lord Corradin claimed which left it without his protection. It had been looted but not burned. Lilly sensed some folks still lived within Hommel, hiding from the Necromancer King’s forces.

From our concealed position near the sturdy dock we watched the wind-driven waves fight to reach the rocky shore. A wall of boulders arced two hundred yards out into the ocean, sheltering the small cove.

Lilly wore the green shirt I’d bought for her. Several times when she didn’t think I was looking, I saw her sweep her hands along its length, and smile while fingering the wooden buttons. Now its sleeves and tail flapped with each stiff wind gust.

“Think she’ll make it in this weather?” I asked.

Roos nodded. “If she has an interest in thy sword.”

Lilly pointed, motioning for us to look beyond the rock wall. “A ship comes.” Even as she said it, a lantern near its bow came to life.

The approaching vessel reminded me of a broad-bodied, single-mast sloop. No sails were raised. Instead, two pairs of oars near the stern propelled it toward the dock. “Not very big,” I said.

Roos adjusted his forage cap. “Nor a large crew.”

“I know,” I said. “Your concern that Belinda the Cursed might use her crew to overpower us and take the sword.”

Roos shouldered his pack and grabbed his rifle. “Let us not keep thy associate waiting.”

We gathered the rest of our equipment and I led the way out onto the dock. I spotted only three men moving aboard the ship. Each wore little more than a vest and breeches, and each had a cutlass hanging at his side. One sailor threw me a line, but Lilly snagged it. I caught the second rope and handed my spear to Roos. Figuring we wouldn’t be there long, I secured the line with a clove hitch to one of the dock’s posts. Lilly followed my example.

Belinda the Cursed appeared on deck, wearing a black robe and leaning heavily on her staff as she walked. Even so, her ship’s rocking didn’t appear to affect her. The strong light of the moon wasn’t enough to mask the cobalt glow her eyes emitted after she pulled back her robe’s hood to appraise us. “You travel with interesting henchmen, Mercenary.”

A wave nudged the aging but well maintained ship against the dock, sending vibrations through both. She turned to the sailor with a blue snake tattoo winding from his jaw, across the bridge of his nose, and circling around his left eye. “First Mate, extend the plank.” Belinda the Cursed turned and over her shoulder warned, “Crusader, if you must pray to your God, do so only on the foredeck.”

Roos snapped back, “I would pray for removal of thy curse, if ye truly suffered one.”

The crone spun around, fixing her cobalt gaze on Roos. “Venture to trade barbs with me at your peril, Crusader. Unravel the spells enchanting my rowers and you’ll take their place.”

I stepped on the plank, placing myself between Roos and the crone. “The ship is yours, Belinda the Cursed. And you captain it. But, I have bartered for its use, along with your skills and cooperation. In my experience, unwarranted insults cast among equals leads to violence.”

The three sailors gripped their cutlasses, grinning in expectation.

The crone let out a cackling laugh. “You consider yourself my equal, Mercenary?”

Roos laughed back. “I recognize thou as a half-blood, one whom my friend Hawk names Captain.”

The crone ignored Roos, saying to me, “My equal? Any of you?” She laughed again. “You’d better be.” She motioned for the snake-faced sailor to step away from the plank before pulling up her hood and again turning back to the small cabin in the elevated quarterdeck.

Her last statement wasn’t a threat. She uttered it as a statement of fact, and that worried me. She’d said in Sint Malo that the greater elf, the Colonel of the West, would have to deem us worthy.

Lilly tugged at my arm. “Don’t board. We’ll find another way.”

“It’ll be okay, Lilly.”

She looked from me to Roos. He stood ready to board, but shrugged his shoulders.

“Don’t worry about Roos,” I said. “It didn’t take him long to warm up to you.”

“You think I’m like her?”

“Of course not,” I said, elbowing her in the ribs. “According to Roos, she’s not cursed.”

Lilly looked up at the snake-faced sailor and laughed. “Roos, how long are you going to call her, one whom my friend Hawk names Captain?”

Travel aboard the Sunset Siren was cramped, uncomfortable, and dull. Sleeping on the rolling deck beneath a stretched tarp that did little to ward off the elements made it worse. Roos grumbled, but never complained openly. Lilly adjusted better than either of us.

From sunrise until an hour past noon Belinda the Cursed took the wheel, guiding our westward progress across the North Atlantic. During that time the snake-faced sailor, whose name was the same as his title, First Mate, slept. A few years past his prime, but still wiry and quick, First Mate’s weathered skin reminded me of leather stretched tight over flexing iron bars. What hair he had was gray stubble.

First Mate was in charge whenever Belinda was in her cabin. He was the only one of the three sailors who could shout orders. First Mate said the other two had their tongues cut out long before becoming part of the Sunset Siren’s crew.

Thrall was a skinny youth who’d stayed on after fulfilling his indentured servitude to Belinda. Hax, who Belinda simply called Sailor, was a stocky pickpocket who’d spent half his thirty years imprisoned. Layers of crosshatched scars across his back from repeated whippings emphasized that life had been cruel to him.

The three sailors rotated watch, maintenance, steering, rigging and sail work duties. The sails supplemented what I found to be the most impressive part of the ship: The two golems that manned the oars day and night.

The golems, carved from oak, manned their oars tirelessly. With short legs braced against a block, each golem’s long upper pair of arms drew back one oar while a shorter set of arms pulled second oar. Their single onyx eye gave their carved faces an unfocused, yet sinister gaze. Roos said the sun-weathered creatures held some sort of spirit, neither good nor evil. Whether the spirits were bound or a willing part of the magical creatures, he couldn’t say. They reminded him of a gargoyle, a grotesque statue-like creature able to move about. But, whereas gargoyles have devious minds like those of gremlins, the oak golems appeared to lack any self-awareness. They only responded to simple, one sentence orders from Belinda the Cursed.

I sat in the narrow shade cast by the sails, watching First Mate give Lilly another lesson in knife fighting. He’d tried to teach both of us, but Lilly learned much faster and I was slowing her down.

Roos slept under the tarp, having shared the night watch with Thrall. Hax had climbed up the mast to view the surrounding seas. His sharp whistle caught everyone’s attention, even bringing Belinda the Cursed from her cabin. He pointed the direction our ship traveled before climbing down the pole.

Hax ran up to Belinda and frantically explained what he saw using sign language.

Belinda the Cursed called to First Mate. “Take the wheel. Sailor spotted a serpent ahead. One with a rider.”

I took the news to be dire from First Mate’s grim stare and the worried expressions of Thrall and Hax as they hurried about clearing the deck of buckets, fishing nets, and other stray gear. I slipped on and buttoned my padded armor shirt and grabbed my crossbow and quiver of quarrels. I decided against buckling on my breast and backplate. If I did and went overboard, I’d be sure to drown.

Belinda pointed at Lilly. “Climb the mast and report what you see.”

Roos tossed Lilly his spyglass. I stood next him at the bow of the ship, unsuccessfully trying to spot the danger. The Crusader fixed the bayonet to his rifle.

“I see it,” called Lilly. “A big snake swimming this way. One rider, but there are many others swimming with them as well. Some are holding onto big fish.”

Roos said to me, “Mermaids and their mates. Dolphins help their mates keep pace.” At my questioning glance he added, “Sailors lured overboard become mates.”

Belinda leaned on her staff. “We cannot outrun them. Crusader, do you sense any magic?”

Roos shook his head. “The distance is too great.”

“I count fifteen mermaids,” said Lilly. “Eleven dolphins towing men and one serpent.”

“A warning, friend Hawk,” said Roos, again looking out to sea. “Serpents of the sea spew out venom.”

I looked back to Belinda the Cursed, waiting for her to do something. After she ordered Hax and Thrall to lower the sails I crossed the ship and asked her, “Have you encountered something like this before?”

“Only an important priestess of Uplersh would command a serpent.” She grinned. “If it should come to a fight, Mercenary, I am more than her equal. And I have ways of fending off a serpent.”

“Why would a priestess of Uplersh be interested in us?”

“We cross her domain.”

I kicked the sealed crate holding the Blood-Sword. The ropes securing it to the deck held tight. “Isn’t there a way to go around?”

“Not if you intend to cross the North Atlantic.” She dismissed me with a wave of her hand and strode to the bow. “Crusader, stand near the mast. Werebeast, has one come forward yet?”

Undeterred and angry, I followed Belinda. Before I said anything, she turned on me. “Keep silent, Mercenary. You have no idea the stakes or the forces set in motion.”

Lilly called down, “A man and dolphin are approaching.”

In the distance, a large serpent swam with its head above the water. The dragon-like head was four times the size of Hell Furnace’s. That concerned me. Then I saw what Lilly reported. A pale-skinned man with flowing red hair held the dorsal fin of a large fish, what Roos called a dolphin. The man held a slender spear in his right hand and wore only a belt woven from seaweed. From it dangled shells, a sheathed knife, and a coiled length of seaweed rope.

Belinda kept the oarsmen rowing on course, directly toward the serpent. The action forced the man to veer to our starboard side and hang on to his dolphin to keep pace.

Thirty yards away the man climbed onto his companion beast. “Belinda Iceheart, daughter of the Colonel of the West, you trespass across the Sea Goddess’ domain.”

Belinda leaned on her staff. “Who speaks on behalf of Uplersh?”

His chest puffed out with pride. “Red Tide, Mate of Blue Coral, High Priestess of the Sea Goddess.”

“Then your captor is well aware I pay proper tribute to Uplersh, so be on your way and we’ll be on ours.”

The dolphin carrying the man easily matched the speed of Belinda’s rowers. “It was not tribute enough.”

“And what would Uplersh determine adequate tribute?” Belinda’s cobalt eyes sparkled in the sunlight, causing the mermaid mate to hesitate before answering.

The man urged his dolphin ahead so that he could more easily face Belinda. “If you don’t know the answer to that, then you should never have journeyed into the Sea Goddess’ domain.”

“I see,” responded Belinda. A brief motion with her right hand combined with a mumbled phrase resulted in a thunderous concussion erupting around the man. When the water spray and foam fell away, the broken, contorted bodies of both man and dolphin floated on the bubbling surface.

Without bothering to examine her handiwork, Belinda shouted, “Oarsmen, battle speed. Thrall, take the wheel. Prepare to tie it off. Werebeast, get down from there and prepare to repel boarders.”

Boarders? I thought. That serpent out there had to be at least sixty yards long. They wouldn’t need boarders.

“The serpent dove,” warned Lilly, reaching the deck and collapsing the spyglass and handing it to Roos. She pulled out her sling and set a stone half the size of my fist in its pocket.

“The serpent will strive to shatter the keel, friend Hawk.” Roos slid my spear across the deck to me. “If not, ye may need the reach of thy spear.”

First Mate stood next to Belinda at the bow of the ship. He watched the waters with a pair of javelins in hand. Thrall still manned the wheel. Roos stood amid ship with Lilly. He watched starboard while she watched the portside. Hax stood aft, crouched and ready, holding a harpoon that looked too long and heavy for him to handle. I waited for the attack next to Belinda, who stood with eyes closed, mumbling. The rhythmic splash and creaking of the oars pulling at the ocean rose above the ominous silence. Even the normal wind slapping the rigging against wood had ceased.

Belinda’s eyes snapped open. “Oarsmen, retract oars!” As they methodically withdrew them through the ports beneath the gunwale, she murmured another spell and tapped the butt of her staff three times against the deck.

Immediately the Sunset Siren lost momentum, causing all but Belinda to grab a hold of something rather than fall. Two seconds later a tremendous blow impacted the ship’s hull, staggering everyone, including Belinda.

“She held!” yelled First Mate. Fifteen seconds later the serpent surfaced one hundred yards starboard, then dove, its length arcing along the wake until its tail slapped the water before disappearing.