Darkin: A Journey East (17 page)

“Where are we?” asked Adacon.

“This is the golem entrance to the bay,” Slowin replied.

“But I don’t see any entrance.”

“It’s underneath the water, through a tunnel pass,” said Slowin, and then the enormous golem suddenly dove headfirst into the water. Adacon looked to Flaer who smiled, and then back to the water in apprehension.

“Come on,” Slowin splashed, resurfacing like a fountain and spraying mist at them. For a moment Adacon forgot where he was, fascinated that Slowin could stay afloat given his great metal body.

“But I have never swam before; I don’t know how to,” Adacon admitted with horror. Flaer pointed at Adacon’s breast plate and then jumped into the dark water.

“Going to have to leave the armor. Take your sword and bow,” said Slowin.

“I don’t know if I could even do it with the sword,” Adacon worried, taking off his armor.

“Leave it then,” Slowin said.

“Let me try first,” Adacon said as he ran with a start at the water, tripping in near the edge with a splash. Slowin and Flaer bobbed on the surface watching patiently for Adacon to come up. After several moments bubbles rose to the surface and Adacon burst up gasping for air. Flaer looked to Slowin who made no motion to interfere. Adacon continued to writhe in the water, going under once more only to reappear, swinging pitifully.

“Help, I’m drowning!” Adacon yelped, swallowing a mouthful of cold water. Slowin hesitated no longer and heaved Adacon from below, flinging the slave up on onto the dry earth once more, soaking and in shock.

“Lose the sword,” Slowin directed.

“But I’ll drown even without it,” Adacon coughed.

“No you won’t, the pass is short. You’ll only be under for a minute.”

“But I can’t, I’ll die…” Adacon whimpered. Flaer appeared irritated.

“Let’s go—back in. Leave the bow and arrows too; there will be more where we’re going anyhow,” Slowin ordered.

Adacon hesitantly dropped his quiver and bow, leaving them beside his sword near the edge of the water.

“Now in, see if you can try holding your breath under the water,” Slowin persuaded.

“I don’t know—”

“There’s no time to spare, unless you wish to be found by the slave traders of Saru Gnarl!” Slowin barked, growing angry as he floated with strange buoyancy in the pool, stars glimmering on his skin. Flaer ducked underneath the surface, disappearing from sight.

“I just can’t, you’re going to have to leave me here Slowin. I’ve failed this cause,” Adacon cried. As he stood defeated by the brink of the murky water a hand seized his leg from the depths. Adacon was pulled down into the water and held there by hands firmly clamped round his skull. He struggled in panic to free himself for nearly half a minute, until suddenly calm swept over him and he stopped twisting.

Above the surface of the water Slowin laughed heartily, and Flaer grinned thickly the width of his shaggy face. Finally, Flaer let go of Adacon’s head, and Adacon burst up to air once more, gasping the same as before. His eyes darted wildly as he regained his breath. After several minutes he felt composed again and looked at Flaer and Slowin. They were both smiling when Slowin broke the tension:

“That was at least as long as you’ll need to be under for. So, with thanks to Flaer for proving you can do it, shall we?”

Adacon did not respond to Slowin but looked down, his spirit bruised, his tension boiling. At first there swelled anger at Flaer and Slowin, but slowly it was replaced by a sense of acceptance; soon Adacon felt triumphant, and he laughed at himself for being so frightened.

“Come on lad,” Slowin winked, “We will need your orb of light.”

Adacon remembered the Orb and drew it from his pocket. Slowin and Flaer descended beneath the surface and Adacon quickly drew a breath and followed. The orb of light worked the same underwater as it did above, Adacon soon discovered. The water was lit green with the glow of the Orb, and Slowin led them through a large aperture in the rock wall of the pond basin. It was only a moment before they all came up for air on the opposite side of the pass, and Adacon quickly peered around at a winding edifice of underground rock. The ceiling was carved granite, stalactites hanging down and walls of smooth green slime. Adacon put his Orb back into his pocket but the cavern became death black, and he brought it back out immediately.

“Do you know the way Slowin?” Adacon asked.

“Surely, boy. Follow me so that I may prove fleet in caves as well as woods,” Slowin boasted, swimming forward. Flaer and Adacon fell in behind; Adacon clutched the Orb tightly to guide their passage. It seemed an impossible web of intertwining caves, and he was astounded to see Slowin navigate the maze, which forked every several yards in a new direction. After what seemed half an hour of twists and turns, they finally arrived in a corridor whose end had starlight, and in eager anticipation of getting out of the water Adacon paddled faster alongside the others.

“The exit!” Adacon cried.

“Yes. You see, golems know many tight and hidden passes, though our size belies that truth,” Slowin said.

They continued down the tunnel toward the light, and Adacon put his Orb away at Slowin’s command. Before them was a starlit expanse of bay, and deeper off under the bright moons towered many anchored ships, each a different color. Adacon gasped in awe at the sight of the port city. It seemed Slowin brought them through to the southern edge of Saru Gnarl’s bay; the city buildings loomed like spikes across the water, held up it seemed by an endless string of rose-colored torches. Their position at the back of the bay was cloaked from view; they shook the water from their garments under overhanging trees and tall reeds. A stony shore spread out on either side of them, several yards wide, separating the bay from the forest. Slowin led them forth to its bank and into a huddle behind bramble that grew high on the rocky shore.

“We must follow the shoreline, and take a boat ere the sun rises. We cannot afford to be seen in or around the city streets. We risk much as it is chancing the docks,” Slowin said, directing caution at Adacon. Adacon turned to glance at the boats in the distance again. They each had three girthy wooden poles harnessing massive sails, a rainbow of different colors and embroideries, softly visible beneath pearl moonlight; some were pure white, others mixed red and black, and others deep green. Some of the sails had stitchings of strange symbols, foreign to Adacon, and others had common pictures like trees and wolves. Some small boats appeared to be single-masted, and some seemed to have no sails at all. The docks stretched far from the bank into the ocean, and Adacon couldn’t make out where the dock intercepted the city buildings. The buildings could be seen among and between treetops; it was a dimly glowing city of mists and spires, the grandest and only Adacon had ever seen. Some of the ships were moving out to sea, others were entering into port, and some too, Adacon surveyed, were still yet alive with movement on deck. Even the city looked to be moving with life, winking with rose and calcite hues that carried high into the night sky. Voices were audible as a faint chorus of chatter that drifted across the low-rolling tide.

“The ocean is marvelous,” Adacon exclaimed, and Slowin struck him on the arm to silence him.

“Ow!” Adacon cried.

“Though the city is still on the other side of the bay, know that voices carry fast and far over these waters,” said Slowin, and then with great care they picked a trail along the pebble-rich banks of the bay. The course of the bank wrapped in a circular fashion northeast, eventually jutting out to conceal the majority of Saru Gnarl in the distance. Between the trees they caught traces of walking lights, bustling workers coming from the city to the docks.

“Does this city ever sleep?” Adacon whispered as he trailed Slowin.

“No, the port keeps business though all hours of the day and night. Grelion has new slaves shipped in from the eastern countries across the sea—each one allowing him to harvest the land better and build new farms,” Slowin replied. As the group crept forward the stone shore turned to sand, and after several minutes its width had doubled. The tree line receded and a bog-meadow of hard reeds took its place. The path became less concealed until almost all cover save the darkness of night forsook them. It was then that Slowin deemed a nearby jetty rock suitable to huddle behind, and there he began to reveal his designs to take a ship:

“We are very close now. After we come to the dock trail there will be no turning back,” Slowin warned.

“What do you want me to do?” said Adacon.

“There, beside those three clippers,” Slowin pointed to a small vessel with two masts that was anchored next to three tall ships. “I know the markings on that schooner. It’s a pirate vessel, and Grelion’s forces are less likely to give chase if it is commandeered.”

“We’re going to steal a ship from pirates?”

“Yes, we will try anyway. I know the red and black flag it bears; it is the property of Smither Govlonks and his gang. They operate a far reaching ring, and their fleet is ever scattered. I think if we could take the ship without event we would be safe upon reaching the point.” Slowin said, and he looked to Flaer for approval of his idea—Flaer nodded as one convinced.

“With the greatest swordsman in Darkin it shouldn’t be that hard, right?”Adacon poked. Flaer smirked.

“Follow me up the path to the first dock. There will be guards and merchants about, but being past the main city gates already, we should be absolved of suspicion.”

“But you are an enormous silver golem—how will you not draw suspicion?”

“I have thought of it, and it helps that many different races of people come through the Saru Gnarl port. Nonetheless, I am of unique magnificence to look upon, and so—” Slowin chuckled, “I have decided that should anything occur it is best to pretend as if I am a captive, a prize of Grelion’s being offered to the eastern countries in return for their slaves.”

“And how are we to do that?”

“Grip my arms, both of you, from each side; and Flaer, keep the Brigun Autilus drawn, unlit.” Flaer nodded.

“But Slowin, you and I have no weapons. What if the plan goes wrong, you didn’t say what to do—” Adacon said.

“Worry not about that, lest it happens. In any case, when things turn sour, duck and hide behind Flaer and me, so that we do not throttle you in your own defense,” Slowin joked. Adacon wasn’t sure how to feel about the plan, but he trusted Slowin. They walked north across the sand to the first dock trail.

“What about once we get to the schooner?” Adacon asked.

“Leave that to Flaer and me.”

The sand transformed into a reed-filled meadow with a dirt path cut amidst it. They marched along the dirt path and came determinedly to the first dock; a row of torches glittered, fastened to a rail that led out to sea. All around them, looming bright as ever, was marvelous Saru Gnarl, great port city of the cape. Adacon, though nervous, looked in awe at the magic lights of the city. It seemed there was an amazing number of things all happening at once: on the wide-paved street that ran down to the docks from the inner-city, Adacon ran his eyes over many strange looking figures, each conducting some form of business or revelry.

“Arms now,” Slowin ordered, and Flaer and Adacon walked on either side of the hulk holding his hands as if he were shackled.

“This looks convincing,” Adacon whispered sarcastically. Soon they were treading out toward the ocean atop the southernmost dock in the port; they walked hurriedly by several humans who appeared to be unloading goods from a small sailboat anchored by the bay.

“Quite a catch there mates!” came a high-pitched voice from one of the merchants. Flaer turned and glared at the men who squatted over their parcel. The Brigun Autilus glowed red for a brief instant.

“Sorry, just being courteous,” replied a frightened voice, and the men went back to tending their load. Adacon gritted his teeth at the exchange, sighed deeply, and kept walking without a word. Ahead was a single man near the end of the dock, nearly fifty yards away. Three massive clippers on the left side of the dock appeared abandoned, as did the tiny schooner anchored on the opposite side.

“He might be a city guard,” Slowin warned. Adacon wasn’t sure if that changed their plan, but he kept walking forward in the best imitation that he was doing nothing unusual.

“Good evening men, how goes your business?” asked the guard as they neared. Flaer brought them to a stop and there was a moment of awkward silence before Slowin nudged Adacon as furtively as possible; he hadn’t realized he would be the only one able to speak for them.

“Just off to the East with this shipment—care of Grelion himself,” Adacon stammered.

“Personal cargo from the lord himself, eh? Does look rather strange though doesn’t it… never seen a golem that color,” the guard said, poking Slowin curiously on the arm with his finger. The guard wore brown cloth and chainmail with a thin brass helmet that covered half of his face. On his side hung a broadsword, similar to the ones Adacon and Erguile had once used.

“Yea—he’s a present for one of our best traders,” Adacon bluffed. The guard eyed Slowin from top to bottom and then turned his glance to Flaer.

“Where’s your crew?” the guard asked.

“Ehm—actually staying in port; they say the Saru Gnarl Cape offers many pleasures. To be honest, I couldn’t convince them to return with us,” Adacon lied.

“Strange to think after being through so many times they’d still enjoy the place so much.”

“It’s a new crew,” Adacon fired back.

“Right then. What country of the East are you faring back to?” the guard asked.

“Actually I can’t say, sorry.”

“Always with his secret business,” the guard muttered to himself. “Well then, sounds important—papers and you’re off…” the guard said, looking at Flaer as he spoke. Adacon coughed and drew the attention from Flaer back to himself.

“Papers?”

“You’ve got your papers right?” the guard reiterated, directing his question at Flaer. Slowin had been keeping his head hung, acting inconsequential, but now he lifted his gaze.