Dragonhammer: Volume II (16 page)

Read Dragonhammer: Volume II Online

Authors: Conner McCall

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Fantasy, #War & Military, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Sword & Sorcery

BOOK: Dragonhammer: Volume II
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Captain Alastair

 

 

 

O
ne of the guards eyes Aela as we pass, but it’s not in a suspicious way.  He obviously likes the way she looks.  Another guard touches her cloak lightly and she endures it for the sake of our quest.

The guards close the gate behind us and lock a big wooden bar into place behind them, sealing them shut.

“I told you that you belong here,” I tell Aela quietly.  She makes eye contact and a smile tugs at her lips.  Then she looks away and the expression fades.

“Where are we staying, Per- Hector?” James asks.

“Figure we’ll find an inn and stay for a night before finding a place to call home,” Percival answers.

“Right,” James mutters.

None of us know our way around the city, so we wander down a couple of roads on our horses before finding a suitable inn entitled “Hawk’s Crest Inn.”  Percival dismounts and walks inside while the rest of us wait for him.  After only a few minutes he returns and says, “That was easy.”

“You got us a room?” we ask.

He nods.  “There are a lot of us but we can squeeze.  We can also keep our horses in the stable.”

“How expensive was it?” I mutter as I dismount and lead my horse into the stable.

“I talked him down but it was still eleven coins,” he mutters back.

My eyebrows go up.  “And how long is that for?”

“One night.”

“Hopefully we won’t have to stay longer than that.”

Jarl Hralfar has given of his riches to us to pay for our stay, but eleven a night will definitely make a dent, especially if our stay is longer than a few days.  Hopefully we can find Captain Alastair soon.

It’s obvious, once we are inside the inn, that travelers are few and far between.  Only one man sits at a table with a tankard, and he ignores us.  The barkeep nods to us cheerfully as we pass.

We crowd into our assigned room, and I see that it will indeed be a tight fit.  There are four small beds in the main room, each with an end table.  A little table sits with four chairs and there’s a miniscule washroom off to the side.

“I’ll take the chair,” I say immediately.  No one argues.

“Where do we start?” asks Nathaniel, in reference to finding Alastair. 

We exit the inn and James responds, “Probably where we’ll find most captains.  In the tavern or at the dock.”

“Judging from the time of day,” I reply, looking up, “I’d guess the dock.  It’s barely afternoon.”

The air smells both of salt and river water.

“Smells funny,” James remarks.

“Must be the ocean,” responds Percival, who leads our group.

The walls of Amnigaddah extend all the way to the beach, and then turn sharply to meet one another, enclosing the whole city in a rough ellipse of wall.  The streets seem to lead to one point in the stonework: a gate, but only a few feet taller than me and wide enough for four of us to travel side by side.  Guards stand on either side of it.

“That must be it,” I conclude.  I can hear water behind the door, similar to the whitewater of the Fravora, but the sound comes in waves.

“Business in the docks?” one of the guards asks.  He looks at my gloves warily and slowly his gaze travels up my enormous build.  I get a little nervous, but he shrugs his shoulders and looks towards one of the others.

“We are fishermen,” Percival responds.

Before he can go on, the guards open the doors.  “Be back by sunset,” the other says.  “The gates close then and won’t open ‘til dawn.”

We enter without a word, and the guards close the small gate behind us.  “That was too easy,” Percival comments lowly, once we are out of range of the guards.

The docks consist of large wooden platforms built onto the beach, sticking out over the water.  The largest, and center platform, is built of worn and cracked stones, but all of the others are constructed of sturdy wooden boards that creak as waves roll under them.  Walls stick out from the fortifications of Amnigaddah and into the water on either side of the dock, creating a horseshoe-like shape.  There are many small structures built into the walls, out of which some people are selling things and others are discussing matters of business.  Ships of every size, from small rowboats to enormous galleons, sit anchored in the water.  I watch as the sail of a particularly large ship unfurls from the mast and the galleon embarks on its journey.  My full attention is focused on something else, however.

For the first time, I see the ocean.  Water stretches all the way to the horizon in a vast plain of blue, and I wonder to think that there are those who would dare challenge its power by sailing.

“Any idea who he could be?” James asks.

“None,” I respond.  “Let’s find out.”

I walk to an important-looking person sitting at a table in one of the open structures next to the wall.  “Excuse me,” I say.

He looks up, extremely annoyed that anybody such as I would be disturbing his work.  “Eh?” he says.  “What do you want?”

“Do you know where I can find Captain Alastair?”

He shrugs and goes back to his paperwork.

Persistently I ask, “Who’s in charge around here?”

He raises an eyebrow and looks back up.  “Why do you care?”

“It’s important.  We need to find him.”

“Is it now?  Shall I tell him you’ve asked him to dinner with your mother as well?”

I shake off the abrasive comment and try again, “Who is he?”

“Go away.”  The man looks back down at his paperwork and doesn’t look back up.

I roll my eyes as we walk away.

“That was rude,” James says.

“Maybe one of the guards will know,” Percival suggests.

“Not a bad idea,” I reply.  “Let’s try it.”

The guard acknowledges Percival as he approaches.  He’s leaning against a wooden beam supporting the overhang of a structure on the dock, and only his head moves to watch us.

He senses something and says, “Something wrong?”

Percival gets right to the point and says, “Can you tell us where to find Captain Alastair?”

“Don’t know,” says the guard.

“Do you know someone who can?” Percival asks.

“The Dock Master would know.  He’s in charge of all of the comings and goings ‘round the dock.  If anybody departs or makes port, he knows about it.”

“Where can we find him?”

“There.”  The guard points to a wooden door set into the stonework of the wall.  “He’s a busy man.  Likely won’t have time to talk to you.  What’s your business with Captain Alastair anyway?”

“Heard he was hiring,” Percival covers quickly.

“Hm,” the guard nods, evidently done with the conversation.  “Good luck.”

Percival walks back towards us with quiet triumph.

“There?” James clarifies, pointing towards the wooden door.

“Yes,” Percival responds.

“No time to waste,” Nathaniel butts in.  “Let’s get this done.”

“Do we knock?” asks James.  “Or can we walk in like a store?”

I shrug.  “Let’s try both.”  Then I hit my fist on the door a few times.

Gulls squawk behind me and the surf breaks against the walls with surges of sound.  Nothing comes from behind the door.

Then I try the door.

The latch clicks and the door creaks on the old hinges while it swings inward.  We walk into a dark stone room lit with torches and candles.  There are no windows.

“Who are you?” a guard asks.  “What’s your business in here?”

“We seek an audience with the Dock Master,” Percival replies.

“By appointment,” the guard says.  “He’s a busy man.”

“It’s important,” Percival says sheepishly.

“As are all of the things he is dealing with,” the guard says.  “Get lost.”

I step forward and reach into my pocket.  “We have an appointment,” I say, flipping a coin to him.

“I’m not sure that you do,” he says.

I flip him another coin.  “We do,” I assure him.

“Oh, that’s right,” he says.  “Admiral Avery’s down the hall to the left.  He may have forgotten your scheduled time.”

“Thank you,” I say.  Then we walk down the dimly lit hallway.

The admiral looks up, surprised, when we walk into his office unannounced.  There’s a bookshelf that takes up the entirety of the left wall, full of record books and scrolls.  He sits at a desk with a ledger, several inkwells, and a quill in his right hand.  His hands are smudged with ink.

“Admiral Avery,” I greet.

“Who are you?” he asks.

“Only a fisherman,” I reply.

“Ah,” he says, eyeing my size and my gloved hands.  “And what are you doing in here?”

“Looking for Captain Alastair.  I was told you could help me contact him?”

“Even if I did know how to contact him, I could not help you.  I am forbidden to give such information.”

“Is he in port?”

“I told you, I am not allowed to give that information.”

My mind grinds for a moment, thinking of something to get it out of him.  It might be expensive and risky to bribe him, so I try to gravitate towards the more persuasive ideas.

Threatening him could blow our cover and is double the risk of bribing him.  He’d be sure to send guards after us and then we’d never find Alastair.

I glance at the ledger he is working on, but it’s a list of numbers and imports.  No names.

“Who’s Helena?” Aela suddenly asks.

The admiral is shocked.  “What?” he asks.

“Who’s Helena?” she repeats.

“What- I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

I glance to a letter he is suddenly concealing in his left hand.

“Let’s say everyone were to find out about this Helena,” Aela says, stepping forward and resting her hands on his desk.  “What would that do to you?”

“Who are you talking abo- what is this?” the admiral seethes.

“Helena,” Aela repeats.  “The woman you’re seeing tonight.”

He sits in appalled silence.

“Let’s say others were to find out you… were not so honorable,” Aela finishes.

“Be quiet!” the admiral breaks.  “Fine!  What do I care?  Captain Alastair is scheduled to come into port in two days with a shipment of silks and spices from Rallunsea!  What of it?”

“That’s all we needed to know,” I reply.

“Not a word,” the admiral stresses.  “Not a word.”

“Nor from you,” Aela replies coolly.  “Or I talk.”

His face crinkles angrily and he explodes backwards into his chair without emitting a single noise.  “Fine.  Now get the dingflies out of my workplace.”

“Gladly,” she says.  Then we leave.

When we reach the sunlight, Nathaniel is the first to speak.  “That was incredible.”

Before I can ask the question on all of our minds, she says, “Note on the desk signed by a lover.  All I had to do was read it.”

“Brilliant!”  James exclaims.  Then he continues quietly, “But now we have to wait two days and hope we can find the Captain when he shows up.”

“Not too bad,” Nathaniel says.  “Could be much worse.”

“It’s getting late,” Percival observes, gesturing to the sinking sun.  “Let’s call it a day and head back.”

I sleep for only a few hours in the chair.  We’re in an enemy city.  I can’t afford to let my guard down.

For fear of drawing attention to myself, I stay inside the next day.  Percival and James go back to the dock to see if they can figure out which spot Captain Alastair will use to dock his ship.  I tell them that predicting that spot is about as likely as predicting the number of dingflies in James’ head, but they pay me no heed.

I sit alone at a table in the inn, next to the cold fireplace.  Aela rests back in our room.

The barkeep offers me a drink and I decline politely, sitting with my gloved hands clasped on the table and my eyes staring into its wooden center.  My thoughts keep trailing back to our mission and the battle plans we will use once this all comes to fruition in our invasion of Balgr’s Fall.  That is, of course, assuming we can actually find Captain Alastair once he comes into port.  And that Admiral Avery was telling the truth.

Quickly I deduce that he was telling the truth because once we found out he was lying, it would be within our power to tell the world of his dishonorable love life.  And that’s the last thing he wants, apparently.

Am I doing the right thing, Father?
I wonder. 
Would you be proud of me?

His last words to me cross my mind: 
You carry my name upon you, Kadmus.  Do not do anything that you know would taint it.  I know you will become something much better, something much more than me.

I suddenly remember an experience I had months ago in Terrace, before the war had latched onto me with its horrible claws.

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