Arcanius (11 page)

Chapter 12

Rafe

Climbing the rope ladder wasn’t as easy as Rafe’s father made it look. Rafe couldn’t help but admire his father’s strength and agility. The ladder swayed awkwardly as Rafe climbed upward. As he looked out over the city far below him, Rafe suddenly missed the wooden stairs that lowered from the bottom of the big sky ships.

Rafe heaved himself over the ship’s rail, and the soldiers all watched as if they were gauging the Avondale soldiers’ abilities based on how well Rafe climbed into their vessel. He was careful to quickly get his balance and not fall, then he stepped away from Grentz, who was talking to the ship’s captain.

The standard crew of a war ship was twelve men, but only nine were visible. Three soldiers were lounging in the bow, just behind the massive ramming prow that was instantly identifiable on the king’s war ships. Four more were lined against the starboard side of the ship. The captain and one other man had just stepped down from the small command deck. None wore weapons, but Rafe guessed the soldiers had some type of weaponry close at hand. Three were probably sleeping in the space below the deck, but they would come up as soon as the fighting started. He knew he couldn’t underestimate the men crewing the war ship. The soldiers in the king’s army were well trained and capable fighters.

“So what is this news from the king?” the captain said. “And how did you get it? I’ve seen no other ships coming or going from Avondale.”

“The earl was given specific instructions by the new king,” Grentz said, and Rafe noticed the look that flashed across the captain’s face when his father mentioned Leonosis. “His father, Earl Aegus, has been ill, but he’s improving.”

“Well, that’s good news, I expect, but what does it have to do with us?” the captain asked.

Grentz smiled. “You’re to turn this war ship over to us. Simple as that.”

“What?” the captain growled.

In a flash Grentz had drawn both weapons and lunged toward the captain. A quick thrust ended the senior officer’s life, and then a backhanded slash ripped through the throat of the man who stood nearest to the captain.

Rafe was fast, but still not as quick as his father. He saw Grentz lunge forward, and Rafe followed his father’s lead. He drew both weapons and moved toward the four men lining the starboard railing. The nearest man looked shocked but didn’t move, not even as Rafe’s sword came up and pierced his abdomen just below his belt. The next man raised an arm, but Rafe’s sword chopped down with such force that the limb was severed. His scream of pain shocked the last two men into action. They both ran toward the stern of the ship, trying to keep the small catapult between them and Rafe. The catapult was mounted on a round base that could be swiveled in either direction so that the weapon could be fired to either side of the ship or directly behind.

Grentz moved quickly to one side of the small command deck, which was only a few feet higher than the main deck of the small ship and covered the stairs that led down into the hold where supplies were kept and the soldiers bunked. It was an efficient ship design, but the small command deck made a convenient obstacle between Grentz and the soldiers. He saw that they had no weapons and he guessed that, if there were weapons on board, they were being kept below the main deck. As the three men shuffled around, trying to keep the command platform between them and Grentz’s double-edged swords, another man’s head appeared from the shadows of the ship’s hold.

Grentz didn’t hesitate, but turned quickly and kicked the head of the man from below deck. His boot heel smashed into the bewildered soldier’s forehead, knocking the man senseless and sending him crashing back into the shadows of the lower deck. The three sheepish looking soldiers at the bow shuffled back around the command platform, trying to stay out of Grentz’s reach.

Rafe started to follow the two men trying to escape his sword but then thought better of his strategy. Instead of chasing the men, hurrying around the catapult, Rafe threw his weight onto the swivel platform. The weapon swung around easily, smashing the wooden basket on the end of the weapon’s arm straight into the face of the one of the soldiers. He fell back into the man behind them, and both fell to the deck. Rafe moved around the catapult quickly, chopping down with the short sword in his left hand. The blade severed three fingers and then wedged between the soldier’s neck and shoulder. A quick thrust from the sword in his right hand plunged the blade into the other soldier, whose face was already covered in blood from a ragged gash the catapult had made across his forehead.

Rafe turned and dashed back toward his father just as the last two soldiers came up onto the main deck. They sprinted up the stairs, the first armed with a sword and shield, the second with several weapons in his arms. Grentz had already moved back around the command platform, and the soldier with a shield dashed toward Rafe.

The man with the shield bellowed a war cry, as he ran forward. Rafe had only one sword now and let the man come to him. He raised his short sword and deflected the soldier’s longer weapon just before stepping to the side and letting the man’s momentum carry him past Rafe. The other soldier threw his armful of weapons toward his companions just before Rafe slashed the short sword across the man’s throat. The weapon didn’t sever the soldier’s head completely, but blood fountained across the deck as the man fell to his knees.

The man with the shield turned back quickly and tried to pin Rafe between the stairs that led down into the ship’s hold and his savage attack. The man kept his shield high, slashing quickly at Rafe’s head and shoulders. The blows were fast and strong but easily predictable, and Rafe surmised that the man wanted to get close enough to smash into him with the round shield, knocking Rafe down the stairs. Instead, Rafe ducked under a horizontal slash and countered with a stab of his short sword into the man’s knee. The sword was short but sturdy and the metal shattered the soldier’s kneecap before slashing through the soft tissue and tendons that held the leg together.

The soldier screamed and fell to his right. Rafe rolled in the opposite direction, coming up on his knees quickly and bringing his sword up just in time to block another soldier’s attack. The three remaining soldiers had snatched up the weapons the soldier had carried up from below. One wasn’t fast enough and was disemboweled by Grentz just as he was straightening up from snatching a weapon of the deck. Another was retreating from the sword master’s furious attack, but the third had turned back to help fight Rafe. The man chopped down hard with his sword, and Rafe had just enough time to raise his own weapon. He kept the blade angled away from his body, so the soldier’s sword clashed against his, and the momentum of the strike slid down Rafe’s blade and away from his body, giving Rafe just enough time to get to his feet.

The soldier attacked again, this time thrusting his sword at Rafe, who batted the weapon aside with his own sword, spun toward his opponent and chopped down quickly in a counter stroke that sliced away a hunk of flesh from the soldier’s left arm. Rafe knew the man, if he survived, was in for a long, painful recovery, but in the heat of battle, he acted as if he felt nothing. Instead, the man brought his sword around toward the side of Rafe’s head. Rafe ducked and slashed at the man’s stomach, but the soldier jumped back to avoid the slash. Unfortunately, he tripped over the body of the soldier whose throat Rafe had cut. The man fell hard onto his back, and Rafe rushed forward.

In a last-ditch effort, the soldier threw up his sword, but Rafe batted it away with his own blade. The soldier was trying to bring his sword back to block Rafe’s next attack, but instead of slashing down with his sword, Rafe kicked the soldier hard in the temple. The man’s body went rigid, and his eyes rolled back in his head so that only the whites showed. Rafe looked up and saw Grentz finally catching the last remaining fighter at the stern of the ship. The soldier had tried his best to survive Grentz’s flurry of strokes, and there were several bloody wounds on his body. He looked terrified as Grentz ran his sword into the man’s chest. The soldier’s eyes dimmed, and he fell into a bloody heap on the deck of the ship.

“There’s one still below deck,” Grentz said.

Rafe nodded and turned down toward the gloomy interior of the ship. He wasn’t sure what he might find, but the man Grentz had kicked was still unconscious, one arm broken and bent at an unnatural angle under his body. Rafe rammed his sword into the unconscious man’s throat, killing him quickly and cleanly. The two soldiers that Rafe had wounded were soon put out of their misery by Grentz. Rafe didn’t see his father killing the wounded men, but their cries were suddenly cut short.

The fight had been fast, and mostly against unarmed men. Rafe felt a twinge of guilt, but he knew that the soldiers had been ordered to kill him and Olyva. They would shoot their fire bombs at him or any ship that carried him, unconcerned with what happened after that. They were following orders, and he was fighting to survive. It wasn’t pleasant, but it was the way of the world. He tried not to let his distress show as he climbed back up onto the main deck.

His father was wiping the blood off his swords. Rafe walked to the stern and pulled his second weapon from the dead man’s body, where it had stuck during the fight.

“You okay?” Grentz asked.

Rafe nodded.

“Your first kill?”

“No, sir,” Rafe said.

“It had to be done,” Grentz went on. “And from the looks of things, we aren’t finished.”

Rafe looked out across the city and saw the second war ship moving slowly toward them. He had known they would have to fight the men in the other ship eventually, but he hadn’t thought about it happening so soon.

“You have a plan?” Rafe asked.

“I’m working on one. You hurt?”

“No sir. I only fought two that had weapons.”

“Me too. It’s a damn shame, but that’s what we train for. We do what has to be done, Rafe, remember that. We can’t afford to feel remorse. We can’t hesitate or show mercy. Once we commit to the fight—”

“We finish it,” Rafe said, completing the familiar phrase his father always repeated when they trained together.

Grentz nodded approvingly.

“If they get close enough, they’ll see the carnage on board,” Rafe said.

“They may have seen us fighting if they have a spyglass.”

“They probably do. So how do we get onto their ship?” Rafe asked.

“I’ve got an idea,” Grentz said with a nod.

“I hope it’s a good one.”

“Me too.”

Chapter 13

Lexi

She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen Tiberius so anxious. He was hurrying through the streets on his way back to the palace and moving so fast Lexi almost had to jog to keep up.

“Ti,” she said. “I don’t get it. Why are you so worried about this servant?”

“He was more than just a servant,” Tiberius said. “He took over my care when I was about six years old. Before that, a group of nurse maids took care of me and my sisters. When I turned six, Robere was assigned as my personal servant. He did everything I needed. Brought water to my room. Saw to my clothes. Took care of me when I got sick.”

“Sounds like a difficult task,” she teased, trying to lessen the tension she could see on Tiberius’ face.

“I’m sure it was, but Robere never complained. Taking care of me wasn’t a prestigious job. In the palace the servants who see to the earl have the most power. Robere was an older man, assigned to the earl’s third son probably just to keep him out of the way. Yet he didn’t resent it. He was the only person in the palace who didn’t look at me as if I were a disappointment.”

“What did people expect from you?” Lexi asked.

“Nothing,” Tiberius said. “They weren’t disappointed by what I did. It was the fact that I was a third son. A daughter can always be married off to create a strategic alliance or placate a disgruntled official, but a third son just gets in the way. Leonosis would take my father’s place, and Brutas was there in case anything happened to Leo. But me—I wasn’t good for anything politically, so…”

He didn’t finish what was obvious. Lexi knew how it felt to not be wanted. Her own parents had simply disappeared one day, leaving her alone with nothing to help her survive. She suddenly felt an empathy for Tiberius. He had grown up privileged but scorned just the same.

“Robere,” Tiberius went on, “treated me as if I was my father’s heir. He was demanding, always wanting me to look my best and act like an important part of the noble family. At first I tried so hard, but my father never noticed me, and Leonosis just tormented me for trying. But Robere kept insisting that I do my best no matter what I was forced to do. And he was kind. He would talk to me, sometimes late into the night. He would tell me stories and tell me how important I was. He deserves much better than to be thrown into the dungeon and tortured because of me.”

“Do you really think Leonosis would torture him?” Lexi asked.

“Yes,” Tiberius said. “I know he would. He wouldn’t let anything stand in his way if he felt I was a threat.”

“But why would he have thought you were a threat? He banished you.”

“I don’t know—maybe Princess Ariel said something. They obviously bonded since we left the city.”

“You think she told him you were a wizard?”