Writing a letter to Mother was far more complicated than William had expected. For one thing, he was having second thoughts. The office, his Father's office once, was a small place with lots of books and papers he'd read for ages. The ink and parchment were something he was well-acquainted with writing. Most nobility was, and William was well-educated by their standards. Often, Father had entertained guests here. The old Duke Garath, William's grandfather, had compiled some of the most extensive records in Haldren.
There had been little else to do. House Gabriel's fortunes had been on the wane after losing the Escorian Civil War. What ought to have been Erik the Voyager's great triumph became his final humiliation. One of the greatest heroes of his era, the old man had to flee to Haldren to regroup. As an old man, he and his descendants had served in the name of Haldren. The Kings of this Land had been waning, but House Gabriel had proved critical in stopping the decay. And at last, they were awarded Gel Carn, a rocky and defensible realm north of House Telus. But, unfortunately, they were meant to be vassals.
But Father would never be a vassal again, not since the Duke had returned with Mother as a bride. He had returned before all the rest of his companions. House Gabriel's star was rising through political maneuvering and brilliant military feats. And William had been left outside until now. He did not want to be involved in the wars nor to win great glory for his house.
In the old days, writing was a rare skill, but with the rise of King Andoa, I had seen Antion become dominant. And Andoa II had picked up where he left off and arranged tutors for the nobility.
Rusara had put a hand to all of that. She habitually taught people around Harlenor how to write and tell stories. Still, William wondered if his desire to see Father again would be well received. However, he'd already told Raynald and Rusara he was coming, so he didn't feel proper backing out now. Also, he wanted to see the world outside, even if he feared it.
Now, he sat in his room, writing a draft as best he could; his doubts ran through his mind. Eventually, he finished his letter and set down his quill. Then, drawing up the parchment, he read it to himself and threw it into the fire in disgust. Then, taking up another sheet of paper, he started writing again.
This was his fifth draft.
"I can't believe you are going along with this," said Felix.
"Rusara and Raynald know best, I'm sure," said William, only half believing it himself. "Besides, Tanith left Carn Gable at about this age?"
"Tanith was of the Telus family," said Felix. "They are of lower rank than you. Have you forgotten House De Chevlon used to be House Gabriel's archenemy? There was an entire war fought in Escor between your families. Rusara was on the De Chevlon's side."
"That was a long time ago, Felix," said William. "No one is still holding a grudge about that. Least of all, Raynald." This was a gross exaggeration at best, but it was polite.
"The slaughter of Anoa the Bright's heirs was long ago," muttered Felix. "Yet everyone still hates Calishans." Anoa the Bright was the most excellent King in the world. Or at least the most outstanding war leader, depending on who you asked. Father regarded Anoa as a kind of necessary destructive force. A forest fire clears out the deadwood of the decadent old world. The elves hated him because they had run that world. But humanity was forever in his debt, and he'd been the one who led to the Halfling's rise to prominence. As a result, his name was universally feared.
But that was long ago. The sense of politics had changed, and the all-out conflict was gone forever. The orcs were exterminated, and the goblins were dead. The giants stuck to their hills, and the dragons had gone into banking. And to the east, under the hand of Baltoth, lay Calisha.
Calisha was the greatest empire the world had ever seen.
Calisha was the most terrible fighting force that had ever been witnessed. Whose soldiers never retreated without orders and who died with her name on their lips.
Calisha was where criminals met with swift and brutal retribution on the cross. It was ruled by a barbaric and calculating Emperor Baltoth, who brutally kept command.
Calisha, the Empire that the Heir of Kings, the descendant of Anoa the Bright, would destroy.
William was not the Heir of Kings. He'd kept careful track of his lineage and was unrelated to Anoa in any way, shape, or form. It had been quite disappointing to him. His family had been more or less obscure. That was before Erik the Voyager brought House Gabriel's star into the ascent. But Mother had been quite firm that his destiny lay west in the distant lands of Themious. William knew nothing about Themious, and he did not care about Themious in the slightest.
It was a realm of mighty Amazons, feuding city-states, and great warrior women. But there were plenty of great warriors here in Haldren. Some of the greatest were under this roof now. And what William had learned of the history demonstrated an inability to organize. There were no Great Themosian empires, simply regional hegemonies. Acoria, where he was descended, was the greatest. But Mother had kept it all secret, and William was not interested anyway.
If she intended to keep it a mystery, let it remain a mystery until the time was right. William was no longer waiting for his destiny.
The wars of the east were where he would earn glory. No one in Harlenorian cared about Themious, so neither did he.
He finally finished writing the letter and looked at it, feeling satisfied. Or at least as much as one can be when explaining why one has left without the leave of one's parents. Father might disapprove of his actions, but Father was never here.
"What do you think of this?" asked William before reading aloud;
"Mother,
"I am going with Raynald and Rusara to Artarq. I need to see more of the outside world. I have carefully considered this decision. Raynald is one of the finest swordsmen in Harlenor, and Rusara is a powerful sorceress. I am safe.
"Signed,
"Your son, William Gabriel."
"Short, to the point, a pack of lies and ultimately futile," mused Felix. "You haven't considered this decision or wouldn't be making it. Second, you are only doing this because Rusara told you as part of her ongoing campaign to spite Lady Azgora. Third, you are only partially safe; travel always has risks, no matter how you are guarded. And lastly, she will be angry no matter what you do.
"You might as well not write this letter for all the good it will do you."
"Well, I have written it," said William, "I will leave it for her. Have you gotten the packs and things together?" He set the parchment on the desk by the window to see it.
"Of course," said Felix, hoisting a pack over one shoulder, "we can go at any time."
"Then let's get to it," said William. "Before our resolve falters."
"Resolve?" asked Felix. "Do I have a choice in any of this?"
"Not really," admitted William, "be glad Father pulled most of our men to Artarq. Otherwise, we'd never be able to sneak out of here."
Tanith had won great glory out there in the world. She had sacked many Calishan towns alongside Prince Aris and Eitrigg. Her letters were often sent to him and others. She often described the fortifications and shorelines, though her pen had become bloodthirsty. She was fond of Calishan women and had good relations with her companions. That and several others she'd written up. Would that he had been able to fight in raids from Estal. William would love to meet Tanith again someday.
They slipped out of their room and entered the nearly empty torchlit halls. Evading the guards was simple enough, much to William's relief. He wanted to avoid explaining to the guards where they were going with travel packs and swords. So they got to the bottom floor and into the courtyard without incident.
As soon as they got out, they saw Mother standing on the wall by the gatehouse. She was speaking to Maria. Mother got on well with most of the soldiers; it was why Father could leave her in charge.
"A beautiful view, is it not, Maria?" asked Lady Azgora.
"Yes, Lady Azgora, it is," answered Maria.
"Sometimes, we miss things in all the scurrying to and fro. We don't stop long enough to appreciate beauty while it is there," said Azgora. "Take those flowers down there. They bloom for a time, then fade and die. We'll never get another chance to see them."
"But others like them will come when the gods will it," noted Maria.
"Yes, but will they be the same?" asked Azgora. "Look at any flower, and you'll find that no two are alike. Yet all of them fade and die. As everything does."
"The gods don't fade, Lady Azgora," said Maria.
"Not to us," conceded Azgora. "But I wonder if even goddesses and gods may grow old and wither in some far-off time. They have the shape of mortals, do they not?"
"Perhaps we have their shape," suggested Maria.
"Yes, it might be the other way around," mused Azgora.
They fell silent and stood where they were, staring out over a view that neither of the two boys could see. So typical; Mother had never had this kind of conversation with him. William tapped Felix on the shoulder.
"We'll be caught for sure if we go through the gate," said William. "Let's scale the wall and climb down that way."
"I didn't bring any rope," said Felix.
"Then we'll do it by hand," said William. "It's not that hard."
"Easy for you to say," said Felix.
They crept up the stairs and came to the battlements. William quickly got on top of one of the crenulations and gradually lowered himself. The surface looked smooth, but he knew where the footholds were from years of climbing it. William was glad the Furbearers who constructed Carn Gable were worse stonemasons. It made climbing easier. Any recent fortress would have been far more challenging to scale.
As he reached the base of the wall, he looked up. Felix was coming down much more slowly, looking uncomfortable. He'd never had William's natural talent for it.
"Would you hurry up?" asked William.
"I can't climb as fast as you," hissed Felix. "I'm human, not an ape in human form."
"What's an ape?" asked William. "Do you mean that elvish slur the Urishia used to use?" The Urishia had been the former rulers of Calisha in all but name. They'd administered everything on the part of Valranor.
Then Baltoth and Anoa started killing people, which all evaporated quickly.
"Um... It's not a slur," Felix paused, "they are sort of humanoid creatures, but with hair. They are very good at climbing trees and cliffs. I read about them before Duke Vanion freed me. They live in the jungles of Dinis, the Far East. Now quiet; I'm climbing."
Felix reached the bottom after a bit more work, and they made their way along the edge of the wall. The village they were to meet Rusara and Raynald. It was about a mile away, with many thatched houses built of stone. They were sure to be spotted if they went straight on for it. William looked to Felix, then to the edge of the trees about half a mile to their left.
"We'll head for that forest," said William. "Once we're there, we'll follow along the road, then make for the village once we get near. Anyone who sees us from the walls may not recognize us from that distance."
"Whatever you say," said Felix without much enthusiasm.
They made for the forest. As they ran, William felt his heart beating. He was afraid someone on the walls would look up and notice them with every passing moment. No call went out, and the trees drew nearer and nearer. Finally, they passed the eaves of the forest and halted for breath.
William found he was smiling despite himself. His journey had only begun, but escaping without being noticed was exciting. He felt a little foolish thinking like that. Felix could have been more enthusiastic.
"Can we please turn back now?" asked Felix.
"Come now, after all that?" asked William. "You want it to be for nothing?"
"More or less," admitted Felix. "I don't like going behind Lady Azgora's back like this."
"Then you ought to have brought it up before," said William.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
"I did bring it up before," said Felix. "You never listen."
"Well, it's too late to go back now," said William. "Come on, let's keep moving."
They made their way along the edge of the trees as quickly as possible. The trip itself was more uneventful. Soon enough, they were parallel to the village.
"Let's take it slow," said Felix. "No one will recognize us at this distance anyway."
"You are probably right," admitted William.
As they made their way towards the village, William risked a look at the walls. He could see no sign of Mother. William hoped that it wasn't because she had seen them and was coming to drag them back by force. William did not want to see a showdown between her and Rusara.
They entered the village, and nothing happened.
They got into the square — still, nothing. William's nerves frayed. He had a feeling that their actions would be discovered very soon. He kept glancing behind him. He was expecting to see Mother coming around the corner with a furious look in her eyes.
"At the least," said Felix, "all the men are out in the fields. On the other hand, the secret may be slow to get out."
"You certainly took your time," said Rusara behind them.
William jumped with sudden fright before turning around. How did she do that? He saw Raynald leaning against the far wall behind Rusara, spinning a dagger in one hand. "Mother was on the wall. We had to scale down and go through the forest ways to get here."
"I suppose the precaution was well-founded," said Rusara. "But it has cost us precious time. Come, let's get moving. I don't doubt your absence will soon be discovered, and I'd rather be far from here when that happens. So we'll head south along the road until we reach the port of Ran Telus."
They departed the village and made their way along the road. William and Felix had to run several times to keep up with Raynald and Rusara. The party moved very quickly, and their haste proved wise. Just as the village was fading into the horizon, they heard it. It was a cry of unfathomable rage echoing throughout the hills.
"I think we'd better run," said Raynald.
They did just that.
On the fourth day of their journey, they came within sight of Ran Telus. It was a large town of stone houses with shingled roofs. Farmlands stretched out on either side of the road and got denser near the city.
William looked around as they entered the city gates, taking in the changes. "It's grown larger," he said. "Several buildings weren't here the last time we came."
"Well, that is the way of things," said Rusara. "They grow and shrink, live, and die."
"Is that statement of the obvious meant to be profound?" asked Felix, forgetting himself for a moment.
"Be silent, Calishan," snapped Raynald.
"It's quite all right, Raynald," said Rusara. "Sometimes, the simplest of realizations are the most profound."
Felix could have looked more impressed.
"Do you think Lord Telus will host us?" asked William, remembering a pleasant stay here a few years ago. Well, except for when Tanith cut the ears off that squirrel.
"We'll not have time to enjoy his hospitality," said Rusara. "We are still being pursued, as you ought to have remembered. Raynald has arranged a ship to Artarq. Or do you think those few days were idly spent?"
"Would it surprise you if I said yes?" muttered Felix in a low enough that Raynald could not hear.
The ship that had been contracted was a large vessel of an older kind. A dragon's head was on its prow, and it had a bright red sail emblazoned with the symbol of a bull's head on it. This was fitting since minotaurs crewed it. They attended to various tasks with practiced ease. Their leader, a hulking gray bull with a long white beard, approached Raynald and hugged him. Raynald returned the embrace with his good arm. Then they separated.
"Lord Raynald," said the minotaur, "we were afraid you would not reach us in time."
"Is everything arranged, Hrungeld?" asked Raynald.
"Of course," said the minotaur. "We can leave at any time."
"Good," said Raynald, glancing back. "William, this is Captain Hrungeld, a friend of mine. He hails from Viokinar. He will be taking us to Artarq."
"I am glad to meet you," said William. "Your ship is magnificent." But, of course, he knew little enough about ships that he could be completely wrong. Even so, it seemed to please Hrungeld, who clapped him on the back in a move that sent William staggering.
"It is a source of great pride to my clan," said Hrungeld. "Come, come, all of you aboard! With your permission, we'll leave at once-" His eyes narrowed on Felix. "What is one of them doing here?"
"Felix is my servant," said William. "He will be no trouble, I assure you."
"See to it that he isn't," said Hrungeld with a glare.
They boarded the vessel. The gangplank was pulled up, and the ship glided out of the port like a swan. It was amazing how smoothly it moved. The few boats William had been on before had rocked and swung from side to side, but this one was more stable. It was still unpleasant, however.
As they left the harbor, William approached Raynald. "Raynald, why are we going with these Viokins?"
"You needn't fear, William," said Raynald. "Hrungeld is a fine sea captain."
"I'm sure he is if you say so," said William. "I've heard so many stories about the Viokin Minotaurs."
"Oh, those are all true," said Raynald. "But their days of coastal raiding are long past. Viokinar has problems at home, so they don't have time to do any raiding."
William gave up. Looking up, he saw Felix looking back at Ran Telus. He put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Are you all right?"
"Yes," said Felix. "I've long since become accustomed to it." He looked a little unsteady, though.
Then William saw Mother appear on the shore in full armor along with a contingent of guards. There was a gleam as she drew back her spear and then hurled it. There was a moment of silence. Then the spear passed over their heads and impaled itself in the mast. It was mere inches away from Raynald's head.
"... We're too far out to sea to throw a spear at us," said Hrungeld.
"Perhaps you'd like to tell her that to her face," mused Raynald, quite calm and unmoving.
Hrungeld reached out with one massive hand and gripped the spear before jerking on it. It didn't come out. He pulled harder several more times, so the wood groaned, and still, it would not come out. Grabbing it with both hands, he set one foot against the mast and then hauled it with all his might. Still, he has yet to receive results. Finally, Hrungeld stepped back and turned to a gigantic minotaur.
"Get this spear out of the mast," he said. "It's in the way."
The minotaur came forward and tried. It also failed. Thus began an odd assembly as each of the minotaurs came forward to push and pull out the spear. None were able to get it out. Finally, as Ran Telus had become tiny in the distance, Raynald came forward.
"Step back," Raynald said. "I'll handle this."
Hrungeld laughed. "Raynald, you are a mighty warrior. Yet, in sheer strength, a minotaur cannot be matched. What hope-"
Raynald set his hand to his sword. There was a blur of movement, and he was sheathing his sword, even though no one had seen the blade. A long moment passed, and then the spear fell into seven pieces with only the head remaining in the mast.
"Ever you surprise us," said Hrungeld. "All right, you bulls, back to work!"
Over the next few days, they sailed through the Haldrenian channel at a brisk pace. The air became warmer as they went further east, and the sun beat down on them. William did not enjoy himself during this time in the slightest, for he soon became seasick. He spent the next few days in an utterly wretched state, often throwing up over the side. It was much to the minotaur's amusement.
When at last he recovered, the air had turned cooler. But a heavy mist was rising up over the sea. It all seemed ominous, and William wasn't alone in thinking so.
"Mark my words; it's bad luck," said a sailor.
"Work of evil spirits, I'd wager," said another.
"They seem afraid," noted Felix.
"I have a bad feeling about this myself," said William. "Let's go see what Raynald is doing."
Finding them was tricky, with the mist sweeping over the deck. William found Raynald and Hrungeld standing at the prow, talking. Hrungeld appeared not so much afraid as concerned, while Raynald looked eager.
"It could be the normal sort of mist," said Hrungeld. "Or it could be some evil force that has decided it wants us to crash on the rocks. Or are they trying to hide an enemy approaching us even now?"
"Which do you think it is?" asked Raynald.
"Not sure," admitted Hrungeld. "The satyrs of Seathorius patrol these waters. They seek ships to seize for their demonic god. They have some proper sorcerers among them, worshippers of Melchious. Still, mists of the natural sort can be found anywhere. A proper fight might be a relief after all this suspense."
Melchious. The name sent a shiver down William's spine, and he felt like evil eyes were upon him. But, glancing around, he saw nothing. He turned back to Raynald and Hrungeld, who stared across the water.
"You ever wonder what it would be like to live in a world without sorcery?" asked Raynald. "I mean, you'd still have to deal with regular mists. But when it happened, you'd know there wasn't some malevolent force behind it."
"So you could just focus on avoiding the rocks and not getting lost," noted Hrungeld. "Yes, that would be nice. Even so, it would still mean ill fortune. Mists are omens of bad luck; we must not forget that."
"Perfect," said Raynald, "I hate all this waiting. I haven't had a good battle in years. An adventure would do everyone some good."
"I wish I were as confident as you," said Hrungeld. "But I'm not as young as I used to be, and my men and I are unlikely to survive such a venture. We have no special destiny keeping us safe, so you'll forgive us if we hope against you."
"I forgive you," laughed Raynald.
William liked only some of this talk of satyrs and adventure. He'd heard all sorts of horror stories, from how they acted to how they treated their prisoners. The prospect of satyrs who worshipped Melchious appealed even less. The stories of the demon were so many you could fill a thousand tomes with them. And you still need to have them all written down.
To distract himself, he went to the ship's opposite side. There, Rusara was staring into the mist. "Lady Rusara, is it true you fought Erik the Voyager?"
"Yes," said Rusara.
Silence reigned for a moment as William waited for her to continue. Then, finally, he sighed as he realized she wanted him to ask. "Could you tell me about him?"
Rusara smiled with memory. "Erik the Voyager was ancient when I fought him. He had handsome features and intense green eyes like you and your Father. But he had a long white beard when I faced him. He was a terrible enemy, killing many people and nearly taking off my head. However, I managed to escape him, and since his side lost the battle, he couldn't pursue me.
"He was always viewed as a worthy opponent by us. We hated him bitterly but also respected him. He kept his word, you see."
"Is that the only reason?" asked William.
"It is more important than it may seem at first glance," said Rusara. "Oaths are binding in more than one way. To break an oath is to break a part of oneself. It is unforgivable to do in all but the most extreme circumstances.
"And no one who does so fails to get paid out in full by the end."
"Surely, some must get away," said William.
"No one ever really gets away with anything, William," said Rusara. "Oh, you might escape the consequences of your actions for a day or even a lifetime. In the end, however, there is consistent accounting for your sins. More people would only realize it would be a better world.
"Then again, perhaps not."
"Satyrs! Portside!" cried a sentry.
William looked up in terror and rushed with Rusara to the ship's side. Out of the mist had come a black vessel with black sails. There were designs of skulls on its surface. Its figurehead was that of a screaming woman, her face terrified and her eyes bleeding. Dozens of dirty men with goat legs and long braided beards were aboard. Their hair was wild and unkempt. In their hands were swords and axes, which they waved as they howled and hollered.
The minotaurs were arming themselves with spears and axes in a frenzy. Several were cheering. Raynald himself stepped forward, naked sword in hand and a broad smile on his face.
"Finally!" he said. "We'll see some excitement!"
William drew his sword and stepped back to stand behind Raynald. He was trying to get as far from the coming battle as possible without making it obvious. He didn't want to fight. He couldn't get rid of a lump in his throat or stop his hands from shaking. Cold sweat dripped from his brow. But, no, he steadied himself. He had to get involved. He had an obligation to fight alongside the crew!
"William," said Raynald as an afterthought, "I want you to stay back and out of the fighting."
"Yes, Raynald," he said. Thank Elranor. It was all he could do not to praise him out loud.
Raynald looked annoyed at the quickness of his response. Yet there needed to be more time for conversation. The ship was drawing nearer as they spoke. Then Rusara raised a hand.
"We don't have time for this," Rusara said.
A bolt of green flame shot forth from Rusara's palm to hit the black ship. The fire soon spread over the boat. William hoped the vessel would be destroyed without having to have a fight. Though the satyrs would probably all die, he didn't like the idea of anyone dying.
Then, a great shadow was cast over both ships. A wave arose and quenched the fire. William felt as though some terrible creature was reaching out for him.
The ships were now sailing parallel with one another. Ropes were thrown by both sides and hauled on to draw the vessels closer together. For a long, terrible moment, they were drawing nearer and nearer. Both sides strained to narrow the gap between them. The satyrs waved their weapons, curved scimitars, and fur, making them like beasts of hell. Across from them, the crew of Hrungeld, minotaurs to the man, held axe and spear. Raynald stood among them, smiling. For a moment, the sound of war cries was everywhere. Then they were side by side, and the satyrs spilled over the deck.
A minotaur was run through before his killer had his skull cloven by a battleax. Raynald's blade flashed lazily, and two heads fell from the shoulders of two satyrs. Hrungeld was fighting a satyr with his axe, both sporting bloody wounds. Rusara stepped aside from a lunge. She snapped her fingers and watched as her enemy burned to death, screaming. Then, their ashes were scattered in the wind.
Then, a satyr bore down on Rusara with a knife, and she fell to the deck, wrestling with the creature. William knew what he had to do. He had to go help her to slay the beasts. But he dared not move; people were dying around him, and his terror grew.
A dead body hit the deck before him, eyes lifeless and blood-soaked the wood. He shrank back from the corpse with a scream and found himself at the ship's edge. He looked back and saw the sea churning beneath him.
Then, a white-furred satyr of enormous size emerged from the fray over the corpse of a minotaur. On his face was a smile, all too like Raynald's. In his hand was a bloodstained sword. He was coming this way!
William's sword fell from his hand, and he rolled away just in time to avoid being grabbed. The white satyr loomed over him, blade in hand. Then Felix rushed at the creature, sword swinging. The beast knocked the weapon from Felix's hand, spinning it into the sea. Then, grabbing Felix by the collar, the satyr slammed him against the rail and threw him into the sea. Felix did not surface.
Felix would die if he didn't do something.
William vaulted over the ship's side and dove into the waters below. It was bitterly cold as he descended, trying to hold his breath. He could see Felix sinking into the water. He was not moving. William quickened his strokes, kicking at the water as he did so. Finally, reaching Felix, William tried to pull them both up. His lungs were burning; his boots were filling with water. Kicking them off, he removed Felix's shoes and then swam upwards.
William couldn't hold the air in his lungs any longer! His heart was beating, his legs aching as he kicked to try and get free of the chill around him! He could sense something behind him, and he almost screamed. He could feel something snapping at his heels! Then, they broke through the surface of the waves with a splash, and he gasped for air. Nothing was below him.
Had he imagined it in his terror?
It didn't matter. Felix was still unconscious.
Why wouldn't he wake up?
William realized that the boy must have breathed in the water while sinking. His vision suddenly seemed to become crystal clear. He got behind Felix, putting a hand on his forehead. There was a sensation of something putting its will through him. Then Felix spat out water and pulled himself from William's grasp.
"You fool!" said Felix. "Why did you come after me?!"
"You're my friend," said William.
"No, I'm not!" roared Felix. "I'm your servant! Now... where is the ship?"
Confused, William looked up and around. The mist had arisen anew, and he could see no sign of the ship anywhere. Instead, a distant echo of fighting and screams could still be heard. Yet he could not tell which direction it was coming from. They were alone in the open water, and their ship was gone.