Lodestone Book One: The Sea of Storms (47 page)

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Authors: Mark Whiteway

Tags: #scifi, #adventure, #travel, #action, #fantasy, #battle, #young adult, #science fiction, #danger, #sea, #aliens, #space, #time, #epic fantasy, #conflict, #alien, #ship, #series, #storms, #world, #society, #excitement, #quest, #storm, #planet, #threat, #weapon, #trilogy, #whiteway, #lodestone

BOOK: Lodestone Book One: The Sea of Storms
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Patris fixed the rudder in place
and hastened down the ladder to the deck. Making his way to the
single mast, he scuttled up the rigging. Lyall, Shann and Alondo
descended the forecastle to the deck and gazed up in fascination as
he bent over the yard and untied the sail.

“He’s not going to ask me to go
up there, is he?” Alondo asked nervously.

Shann looked at him out of the
corner of her eye. “I don’t think Oliah would let you
go.”

“She doesn’t tell me what to do,”
Alondo protested.

“No,” Shann smiled a secret
smile. “Of course not.”

Patris slid down the rigging to
the deck beside them. His eyes shone and he looked as if he was in
his element. “Time to make sail. Let’s haul on the halyards.” They
looked at each other blankly. “The ropes here,” he indicated, “and
here.” Shann and Alondo took up a rope obediently and Lyall and
Patris grabbed the other one. “Now, pull together.” They hauled on
the ropes and watched the sail unfurl. The canvass flapped in the
offshore breeze, then filled out. As they tied off the lines, the
ship began to pick up speed, cutting a smooth wake through the
still waters of the harbour. Patris smiled encouragingly. “We’ll
make a crew out of you yet.”

Alondo headed to the afterdeck,
followed by Shann. She stood next to him, leaning on the stern
rail. Already, the ships tied up at the quayside were growing
smaller, but Shann fancied she could see a group of people gathered
at their now-empty mooring. Above the quay, smoke was rising over
the port city, a testament to their escape. Alondo looked like a
lost gundir pup. She rubbed his back gently. “We’ll be back. Lyall
will see to it.” He smiled at her gratefully and put an arm around
her shoulder as they both watched Sakara receding into the
distance. The ship began to rise and fall gently as it cleared the
harbour and caught the swell of the open sea.

Setting its
course eastward, the
Annata’s Reach
sailed towards the Great Barrier of Storms,
carrying on board five Kelanni, one Chandara and the fate of a
world.

 

Chapter
30

 

The Aronak Sea by night.
Ail-Mazzoth’s pale pink light playing over the waves. And in the
midst of the sea, the lights of a tiny vessel lost in the vastness.
In the cramped forecastle, Shann, Lyall and Patris sat around a
rough wooden table, picking over the remains of the evening meal.
Shann was chewing on a black flatbread and washing it down with
narrian wine.

Patris leaned back on his stool,
and took a sip from his flagon. “I see you renamed the ship,” he
said conversationally.

Lyall looked up from his own
drink. “You don’t like the name?”

Patris shrugged, “She’s your
ship.” He took another sip. “So…who is Annata?”

“She’s a friend of ours,” Lyall
said.

“An
old
friend,” Shann
added.

Lyall shot her a warning glance.
“Yes, I suppose you could say that.”

“Someone who has aided you on
your journey, perhaps?” Patris probed.

The thief-sailor was a clever
individual. Clever and perceptive. This was an interrogation,
cloaked in the guise of pleasant conversation. They would need to
be careful so as not to give too much away.

Lyall fielded the question. “Yes,
although she is far away now. It may be a long while before we see
her again.”

Patris adopted a different tack.
“By the way, how are your friends doing?”

“Keris has extensive injuries.
Boxx is tending to her,” Lyall sighed. “As for Alondo–well, I’m
sure he will be all right, given time.”

Not long after they had left the
still waters of the harbour, the musician had fallen prey to a bad
bout of seasickness. Shann had scarcely seen him above deck after
that, and when she went to the stern castle, he was lying
motionless on a bunk, his round face unnaturally pallid. He had not
been able to keep anything down.

“Well, not everyone is cut out to
be a sailor, I suppose,” Patris said. “Now, Shann here–she seems to
have taken to it right off. Are you sure you weren’t born on board
ship?”

Shann had to admit she had no
idea where she was born. She could barely even remember what her
mother looked like. Sometimes, she thought she could recall her
mother’s soothing voice, although it did seem to her that it
sounded like Gallar, so maybe it was just her mind playing tricks
on her. She frowned. “I…don’t think so.”

Patris and Lyall both laughed.
“Well, it doesn’t matter.” Patris said. “I’m just grateful to have
such an able deck hand. In fact, I’m thinking of promoting you to
first mate.”

“What would that mean?” Shann
asked.

“It would mean,” Lyall said,
“that you would be able to tell the rest of us what to
do.”

Her expression brightened. “I
accept.”

They all roared with laughter.
Patris ran a hand through his shoulder length black hair. “Now
that’s settled, I should ask, where are we headed,
exactly?”

“We sail due east,” Lyall
said.

“Well, you should know that there
is nothing east of here other than a few islands, all of which are
uninhabited as far as I am aware,” Patris said. “Besides, if we
stay on this heading, we will eventually run straight into the
Great Barrier and we will have no choice but to turn. Even near the
Barrier, the winds can be treacherous. You would be putting your
ship and crew in unnecessary danger.”

“We will not put you in
danger–you have my word,” Lyall said.

Patris bit his lip. “I could
understand your reluctance to speak about your plans in Sakara. But
now, here we are, in the middle of the Aronak Sea.” He spread his
hands wide. “Who am I going to tell?”

“That’s true,” Lyall agreed.
“Nevertheless, you will be returning to Sakara, so it is safer both
for you and for us if you cannot reveal our plans.”

Patris’ eyes narrowed. “Your
words would seem to imply that I will not be accompanying you to
your destination.”

Lyall met his gaze squarely.
“That’s correct.”

“You still do not trust
me?”

Lyall shook his head. “It has
nothing to do with trust.” He paused to collect his thoughts “Each
of us–myself, Shann here, Alondo, Keris and Boxx–each of us is a
willing volunteer. Each of us knows the hazards involved and has
agreed to accept the risks. Your interest is…financial. I
appreciate all you have done for us, but it would be wrong for us
to place you or the members of your thief co-operative in more
danger than is necessary.”

Patris gazed into his drink. “We
have tended to avoid contact with the agents of the Prophet in
Sakara. However, the situation in the city worsens day by day.
Violent crime–even murder is on the rise. There are rumours that
the Asoli are being paid to look the other way. Many believe it is
only a matter of time before the Keltar are sent in to ‘restore
peace.’ If that happens…then we will be in a fight for our very
survival. That is why I agreed to aid you–not just for the money,
but because I believe that in the end, people like you may be our
only hope.”

“If that happens, I’m afraid
there may be little we can do to help you directly,” Lyall
said.

“You are not returning to
Sakara?”

“It…seems unlikely,” Lyall
confessed.

“A pity,” Patris said. “We could
use people with your skills–breaking someone out of one of the
Prophets safe houses–now that was impressive. Not to mention
chasing me down in the streets after I had ‘liberated’ your coin
purse.” Laughter rippled round the table once more. “Well, wherever
you are bound for, you should remember that the authorities in
Chalimar are desperate to get their hands on you. Watch
yourselves.”

“We will, thank you,” Lyall
said.

Shann stood and gathered up half
a loaf of flatbread and a carafe of wine from the table. “I’m going
to see if I can get Alondo to eat anything.”

Lyall smiled at her. “Good idea.
Tell him I’ll be along to see him myself, presently.”

Shann opened
the door to the forecastle and stepped out onto the deck. All was
quiet save the lapping of the water and the creaking of the ship’s
hull, the sounds blending together like a lullaby. She walked
towards the stern, enjoying the gentle caress of the night breeze
against her cheek. At the entrance to the stern castle, she put her
hand to the latch. Suddenly the door opened inwards of its own
accord, and Keris stood in the doorway. She
was dressed in a loose white night robe. Her black hair hung
attractively about her shoulders in thick waves. Shann felt an
irrational pang of jealousy. They stared at each other for a long
moment.

Finally, Shann
spoke up. “I…I was bringing these things for Alondo.”
Why am I justifying myself to this
woman?

“I see,” Keris’ face was
impassive. She made no attempt to get out of the way.

“How is he?” Shann
asked.

“I’m not sure. Boxx says it can’t
do much to help.” It felt bizarre that they should be standing
there discussing Alondo’s seasickness, when Keris’ injuries had
been far more severe. The bruising and the cuts and abrasions on
the woman’s face and neck seemed almost gone and her stance seemed
more relaxed. Shann marvelled at the irony that Boxx could work
miracles on internal and external wounds of that kind, but a simple
upset stomach was beyond its capabilities.

“You seem a little better,” Shann
observed.

“I feel quite weak, but I am free
of pain, thanks to Boxx. I do have a permanent reminder of my time
as a guest of the Prophet’s minions, however.” She held up her
right hand. Shann registered with shock that the end of her Ring
finger had been cut off to the first joint. The injury had been
hidden beneath her rough bandage. Shann fought down the sensation
of nausea. “Unfortunately, Boxx can’t replace a missing limb.
Still, it serves as a reminder of my stupidity in allowing myself
to get taken off the streets in the first place.” She lowered her
hand and concealed it in a fold of her robe, as if it were a secret
shame. “I wanted to say…thank you for risking your life to rescue
me.”

Shann felt caught off guard. “I…I
didn’t do anything really.”

“Your modesty is unnecessary. You
have already proven your bravery on more than one occasion–like
when you rescued Lyall from the Pits.”

“But…you wouldn’t let anyone go
after him.”

Keris looked down at the deck.
“That was only because I was certain that he had perished, and I
didn’t want to risk anyone else. I was…gratified to have been
proven wrong.”

“But you didn’t
even
try.
You
would have left him there to
die
.”

“Look, Shann–”

“No,
you look
. Getting you
out of that place was Lyall’s idea, not mine. I went along with it
because Lyall believes you are important to the success of this
mission. Annata seems to trust you, as does Boxx, but that’s only
because they don’t know who you really are.”

Keris drew herself erect. “You
know nothing about me, girl.”

“You are Keltar, sworn to serve
the Prophet.”

“I was Keltar.” Keris had a
faraway look. “When I came to live at the keep I was young–younger
than you are now. My ears were ringing with words like ‘duty’ and
‘honour’. Mordal told me that I was special–that I had the strength
and the ability to help people–to protect them, and to serve the
Prophet’s greater purpose for all Kelanni. ‘The Unan-Chinneroth who
ascends to the Heavens and returns. His ways are beyond our
understanding.’ We were told that that great purpose involved the
extraction of lodestone in large quantities. So I dedicated myself
honing my skills–to becoming the perfect Keltar.

“However, as time went on, I saw
things–people being starved. Brutalized. Even murdered. I began to
doubt my oath. Finally, when the Chandara activated the machine
from the past and Annata appeared to me at the Great Tree, she told
me of the Prophet’s true intention. I did not want to believe it at
first, but–well, it made so much sense after all the things I had
witnessed. I knew in my heart that the woman spoke the truth. That
was why I had to travel to Gort to deliver you, Lyall and Alondo
from the trap that was waiting for you there. That’s why I turned
my back on the Keltar and was forced to slay the boy Nikome and
Mordal, who had been more of a father to me than my own
father.”

Shann’s face screwed up. “Do you
expect me to feel sympathy for you?”

“I expect nothing. I have chosen
my own path.”

“What about all of your other
crimes?” Shann demanded.

“Crimes?”

“Yes,
crimes
. What about all
of the people you rounded up and sent to die in the ore camps? What
about all of the families you broke up? The brothers and sisters
that were parted from one another?”
The
parents you dragged away from their children?
“What about all of that?”

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