The Fourth and Fifth hailed from Odera and were nearly always together in everything they did. To call them lovers would do them injustice for they had risen above the simple needs of men. Or so they wanted us to believe. They were the most peaceful of all, choosing progression and prosperity above power and conquest. Despite that, none dared advance against them. If the need for war arose, every single one of their people would rally underneath their banners.
Excerpt from Rise and Fall of the Seven by Maïz the Wise.
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“Well, I mean it was obvious they were pirates,” Asmund argued. “I thought you knew that. I’m only surprised we actually boarded with one of the pirate lords.”
“You knowingly led us on this ship?” Yara asked, mouth agape. “Have you gone mad?”
Asmund held up his hands apologetically. “They’re the only ones going west and besides it’s not like we can’t defend ourselves. Sevens be damned I thought you knew!”
Yara sighed and rubbed her forehead before heading down to the captain's quarters. Samos chuckled. He had to admit he had been a fool to not see these men for what they really were, but all things considered they were surprisingly civil. Whatever rumours people told of them, he thought them greatly exaggerated. Morley was a pleasant host and skilful captain, commanding his men firm but just and allowing for the necessary distractions on deck to keep them busy and satisfied.
One of those distractions, it turned out, had been sparring matches between the crew and the three Talented they had taken on board. Morley had told the three had had known them for what they were, claiming he had a special sense for recognizing Enhancers in a crowd. The bouts, he had proclaimed, where to be an extra fee on top of the taen Asmund would pay and any man able to defeat either Samos or Asmund had been promised a portion of it. Yara he had wisely kept out of the bet, knowing that her lack of training and experience would make for unfair matchups.
The Hullbreaker was a large three-master, its deck wide enough for both a sparring circle and a small area on all sides for spectators. After the first night of sailing, four people had claimed places for a fight with Samos and five with Asmund. The next day that number had dropped down to two for each and today, the third since leaving Arrowpoint, there was only one crewmate still willing to challenge either of them.
They fought well, their days on sea providing them with a steadier footing than both Samos and Asmund, but their lack of Talent made it clear from the start who would come out on top. Asmund’s barehanded techniques were exceptionally refined, Samos had come to realize. Every time a swing would come at him or blade was about to meet his skin, he changed his footing and deflected the blow with either hand, arm or even leg at times. At time, Samos thought it looked as if he was dancing.
His own fights felt dull at times. He missed a true challenge, one that would push him to perform beyond what he had done before. His training and sparring with Eder, Serifé and Ralph had made him too expecting of his opponents.
“You look bored,” Morley said as he joined Samos at the railing of the quarter deck, leaving the wheel to the steersman. From where they stood they had a clear view of the main deck where Asmund was occupied fending off blows from the last remaining challenger. The crowd around them was shouting him on in hopes of finally seeing one of their own come out victorious.
Samos shrugged. “I’m just thinking,” he responded. “Over three months we’ve been underway, Yara and me, and I feel as if we’re finally reaching whatever it is we’ve been unknowingly chasing. We just have no idea what to expect.”
Morley nodded. “Same goes for me. I’ve been away from Nokoroy for quite some time now and a lot has happened since. I’m one of only two lords who managed to escape with their lives intact when Ethel took over. I wonder how my arrival will be received.”
“The man who defeated Ethel’s forces, what do you know of him?”
Morley gave Samos a curious look. “There are plenty of rumours going about, but from what I’ve gathered he’s Talented, Enhancer at the least and maybe more. He’s been gathering men under his command the moment Ethel left with his fleet, preparing for the right time to take over. Some say he arrived with Ethel, some say he’s from Nokoroy itself and even others claim he’s just some random outlander. But all agree on one thing, his name is Mettias.”
“Mettias…” Samos mouthed the name. “Have you heard of him before?”
“First time I heard the name,” Morley shook his head. “Perhaps I do know him and he changed his name to avoid recognition, but we’ll only found out once we see him.”
“You plan to meet him then?”
“I don’t think I have a choice really,” he grimaced. “As I said before, I plan to take back what’s mine. If this Mettias holds the power in Nokoroy, I’ll have to face him at some point.”
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“Tell me, Morley,” Samos said as he turned his attention away from the bout where Asmund had just disarmed his opponent and focused on the captain at his side. “You’re a pirate, one of the ten pirate lords at that, and your reputation towards the world beyond is a fearsome one. Why do you let us sail with you?”
He shrugged. “We were going west anyways. And when Asmund showed me the taen as payment I was pretty much convinced.”
“But why not just rob us? Isn’t that what pirates do, take whatever they want?”
Morley gave a chuckle. “There are those who would do exactly that, yes. But I have a reputation to uphold, what would people say if I just straight up robbed and killed three people on the docks of Arrowpoint? Besides, I don’t think robbing the lot of you would have been an easy task.” He nodded at Asmund who had just thrown his opponent over his shoulders and into the crowd surrounding them. “If anything, I should be the fearful one.”
Samos grinned and underneath them, the doors of the captain’s quarters swung open. Yara strode on deck, gave a quick glance at the now dispersing crowd around the sparring circle and walked upstairs towards Samos and Morley. She held an ancient looking book in her hands.
“Captain, you surprise me,” she said with a warm smile. She had surprisingly quick adapted to living on a pirate ship among nothing but weary and hardened men. One punch similar to the one she had handed out on the docks of Arrowpoint in a crewman’s stomach who had reached for her behind had been evidence enough she was not to be messed with.
“How so, my dear Yara?” Morley asked with a cocked eyebrow.
“Your books. I’ve never had thought a man of your… reputation could be bothered to read anything at all.”
“An educated man is worth twice his value,” the captain replied smoothly. “I will admit it is a small hobby of my mine to collect the rarest works out there, preferably written on makran paper.”
Yara nodded enthusiastically. “I thought so, there were quite a few titles I didn’t recognize.” She held up the book she was holding. “This one for example, Rise and Fall of the Seven by Maïz the Wise. I’ve heard of Maïz before, he wrote The Laws of Talents, but I’ve never seen any mention of this work before.”
Morley took the book from Yara’s hands and let his finger trail over the cover. His eyes glazed for a moment as if he remembered something. “I doubt you’ll find more than three or four copies of this book anywhere in the world,” he began softly. “Not even in Eresath would you find this, I reckon. It’s old, ancient even, showing signs of degrading even though it is written on makran. I bought it from a vendor in Nganoy over two decades ago, I don’t think the man understood the value of it.
“It tells of events that took place several thousands of years ago, when the Talents had yet to manifest itself in humanity and mankind had just began to spread across the world. Some say they were the first, others say they were just the most powerful. Whatever the truth, the Seven laid the foundation of our civilizations as we know them today. It’s an interesting read, I’d recommend you take your time to read it.”
“I will,” Yara answered, an exciting glimmer in her eyes as Morley handed her the book back. “I most definitely will.”
She moved back down the stairs and into the captain’s quarters, no doubt finding a comfortable place to sit and read until her eyes fell out of their sockets.
“An interesting woman,” Morley mused and he laughed at Samos’ expression. “Don’t worry, Samos. I saw the way she looks at you, you won’t lose her to me or my men. But something about her is interesting. She’s an Enhancer, no doubt about that, but there’s more to her than meets the eye.”
Samos swallowed and waited, but Morley didn’t push the unspoken question.
“Same goes for Asmund there.” He pointed at the man now standing along on deck, going through his forms now that the fight was over. “Back in Arrowpoint, when he stopped Jeven’s sword, he didn’t use Enhancement. That was a seal. Which means he’s Dovra’Sha.”
He gave Samos an expecting look who nodded in confirmation. The captain obviously knew a thing or two about the Talents, he thought it best not to play dumb and refute his assumptions.
“An Enhancer who won’t use weapons,” Morley laughed. “And I thought I’d seen it all. Same goes for you, Samos. You carry an Enhancer’s sword yet you don’t fight like a fully trained one. There are holes in your defence, missed opportunities in your attacks. You cling too much to your forms.”
Samos realized he was staring at the man. “How…” the words came out stumbling over one another. “How do you know all this?”
Morley grinned and pushed back his cloak. At his hip hung a sword. Its sheath was plain and dull-looking, but the guard at the hilt that showed was what stunned Samos. It was shaped in the same way as his, the cross-shaped symbol enclosed by a circle. The symbol of the Order.
“You’re… You’re a member of the Order.”
“Was,” Morley corrected him. “I left over two decades ago after being accepted as full Enhancer. They tried to change me, pull me away from the place I was born and raised, but there was too much pirate in me I guess. I discarded the sheath and recruited my first men with the coin I got for it, but the sword I had to keep. It wouldn’t surprise me if I was considered dead in Eresath.”
He pointed at several men working about on the ship. “Those I found in Nokoroy and trained myself, you’ll find them tough opponents if I allow them to challenge you or Asmund.”
“Why forbid them to spar with us?” Samos inquired curiously.
“I wanted to see what you were made of,” Morley replied casually. “And now I’ve given my men enough time to get used to your fighting styles.” He gave a mischievous grin.
Samos was about to answer when something in the corner of his eye drew his attention. He turned away from the captain and stared at the front of the ship, or rather what lay beyond it. At the horizon, a thick dark-grey plume of smoke had appeared with underneath it the blackest and widest mountain he had ever seen. Even from this distance he could see just how vast it was.
Morley sounded worried and pleased at the same time. “Mount Raeyner,” he said more to himself than anything. “And on its slopes Nokoroy, the pirate city. I’m finally home.”
Tightening his grip on the rail Samos stared at the mountain, the tugging westwards now as strong as ever and growing with every passing second.