Erec stood in Lothair’s cabin with an obviously feigned kind of authority. It was exactly as he imagined a spoiled noble boy would deflect fear. It was the kind of authority that he hoped captain Bovin would not feel threatened by. Erec had a feeling that captain Bovin was not a man who was comfortable with himself or his ostensible position in society.

While they waited the crew were murmuring to each other. They did not seem overly upset that their quartermaster had been brutally murdered. Lothair had not been a popular man. Still, it was not every day that your quartermaster was killed by a scrawny malnourished lordling. Also adding to the mystery of the situation was that Lothair had been brutalised. Blood coated the wooden planks of the cabin. Lothair was almost unrecognisable, Erec had purposely made a mess of the body to obscure the clinical nature of Lothair’s execution. That thought gave Erec pause. He had not at all thought about what he was doing while he was planning to kill Lothair. He had felt no apprehension at killing the man. He had been a horrible person but still, he had been a person. After Erec determined that killing the man was the most efficient course of action, he had just done it.

Perhaps being capable of doing almost anything and doing it well made doing that same thing easier to contemplate. He had had no doubt that he could kill Lothair with little to no danger to himself. Moral considerations did not seem as important when all practical hindrances no longer applied.

Erec’s musings were interrupted as captain Bovin pushed his way into the cabin. He was a short man with one of those faces that just seem designed from the ground up for meanness and petty power.

Looking at the mutilated body of his quartermaster captain Bovin sputtered, “Who... who did this!”

The crew all turned to look at Erec. One of the crewmen said, “found the boy stabbing Lothair with the knife captain.”

“Boy!” Erec interrupted, “I am the heir to house Leon, Tristan Leon. You will treat me with respect peasant.”

Erec could see the captain was angry, but his noble accent and demeanour made the man cautions. Until he worked out what was going on he did not want to risk offending a noble family, particularly the sponsor of his ship.

“Throw him in the brig for now,” said the captain dismissively, “then help me search Lothair’s papers.”

Norbert made sure that he was the one who took Erec away. Norbert was sweating, probably hoping that no one remembered that he and Erec had been talking at dinner.

As soon as they were separated from the rest of the crew Norbert hissed, “By Absolon’s balls boy what is going on.”

Erec let his Tristan Leon act drop, “Lothair was a problem, and I needed a way to get some authority on the ship.”

Norbert huffed, “can’t say I blame you for sticking the man, but the captain needed Lothair, the man kept this tub profitable. He isn’t going to just take you at your word. No matter how fancy you make yourself sound.”

Erec raised a brow, “I could be noble, you said you didn’t know who I was.”

Norbert scoffed, “please no noble would be as underfed as you.” Although, Norbert had to admit that Erec had a confidence about him. He wore it like a mantle of authority. Through his brief interaction it was clear that Erec had a type of certainty that usually only came with command.

“Why the hurry to get us both killed,” Norbert questioned, “you could have just avoided Lothair and why would you need authority?”

Norbert also observed that Erec was looking much better than he had been at dinner. Most of his bruising was healed and he walked without obvious injury. Given the state that Erec had been in, his renewed health was miraculous. Norbert suddenly thought that there was more to this Erec than he had assumed when he first met him.

Erec winced, “We are sailing straight towards one of the death-zones. I need a reason for the captain and crew to listen to me. Otherwise, we are all dead.”

Norbert paled, “Ambrosine have mercy on us. Why don’t you just tell everyone and how do you know? Death-zones in the Everstorm have no rhyme or reason to them. They come on as disasters and leave just as quickly.”

Erec shrugged, “the mana in the air is increasing in density. An increase of this scale only happens when one approach’s one of the death-zones. The captain would never believe me. To him I was just one of Lothair’s new playthings. This way I can get him to turn around and head back to port immediately”

Norbert was still shacking with fear at the prospect of sailing into a death-zone when they reached the brig. Erec doubted that the wooden bars could stop anybody who was determined to escape them. The rusted lock also seemed dubious at best.

It did not take long for captain Bovin to join them. Erec had not made his version of the truth very hard to figure out. Even Bovin could paint himself a picture of shady intrigue that led to the presence of the Leon heir on his ship. It also was not a leap to figure out that there were only two ways for Bovin to play this. If there was any way that Erec, or Tristan as Bovin knew him, was missed and the Leon family found out that Bovin’s ship had something to do with it, then his only choice was to bring Tristan back to the city. If, however, nobody knew where Tristan was, then it was better for Bovin to finish what Lothair had started rather than risk Tristan having him killed in a fit of pique.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Before Bovin could come to a decision one way or the other Erec gave him a reason to let him live, “That Lothair must have been keeping me drugged. I demand an explanation captain; how could you have allowed such scum to remain in your employ? It is a mercy that I killed him when I did, I am sure my father has already tortured his conspirators to find out where they took me.”

Erec showed a bit of cunning through his noble mask. Tristan was spoiled but he was not a complete idiot. He would know that the captain might still have him killed. He was hoping that Bovin would hear the implication.

After a pause Erec proffered the carrot that went along with the stick, “Of course my father would pay well for my return and anyone who aided me. You sail under his license do you not? I’m sure he might even revisit the terms of your contract.”

That final comment tipped Bovin over the edge. It was a risk to let Tristan live but if he could renegotiate his cut of profits then he might retire a wealthy man. He could even hire crewmen who hadn’t started life as gutter scum.

Bovin gave an inexpert bow, “of course my lord. I am sorry for the treatment you received but I did not know of your station. I assure you that Lothair acted without my knowledge. If you so desire, you my use my cabin until we return from this voyage. We are scheduled to return to port in a week or so.”

Erec snorted, “I suppose there is no better accommodation on this accused ship. I will take your cabin captain, but we must set back for port at once. I will not spend another minute than necessary onboard. My father will repay whatever petty loss you make from the lost time.”

Bovin tensed at the insult to his ship and the order from the brat, but nevertheless replied, “of course my Lord.”

Erec clapped, “excellent I will also require a man servant to assist me. This one will do,” he said pointing at Norbert, “he does not have all his teeth, but he seems and agreeable enough serf.”

Norbert was shocked at the mention of him. Bovin took it in stride and snapped, “Norbert you are at his lordship’s disposal until we make port. Now if you will excuse me my lord, I must make new orders to turn us around.”

Bovin stalked off to take out his petty need for authority on his crew members.

Erec turned to Norbert with a smile, “that was easier than I thought it would be.” Erec then set off for the captain’s quarters with Norbert scrambling to catch up.

As they reached the captain’s cabin Norbert signed with relief, “well at least we are out of danger from the death-zone now, but what are you going to do once we get back? Captain Bovin is not a man to forget debts.”

Erec waved his hand dismissively, “one problem at a time. We are not completely safe from the death zone yet and besides, if it comes down to it I could kill Bovin and his whole crew bare handed. What I cannot do no matter how skilled I am is sail a ship by myself. I only have two hands.”

That comment caught Norbert off guard, “wait you could kill us all? What do you mean that we are not safe yet”

Erec pushed his way inside the cabin, “just because I could does not mean I will. That is just a worst-case scenario. I could just as easily sneak off the ship without his notice. As to your second question the death-zones move and this one appears to be moving towards us.”

Norbert gasped, “they move? I’ve never heard that. The death-zones are rumour more than anything else. Nobody has survived to tell folks more about them.”

“That’s not quite true. When the first pioneers of the early Tulan Empire scouted the Everstorm a captain by the name of Bertrand Reyer sailed close to the edge of one. He could not be sure what he was seeing but he described feeling a presence. One that was unfamiliar and alien. At that time men had not sailed the Everstorm before. He claimed that only the death-zones unfamiliarity with men and their ships saved him and his crew.”

“He speaks as if it were alive,” scoffed Norbert.

“He maintained that it was, somehow,” replied Erec, “He saw no creature, only a raging patch of more intense storm. He was, quite clear that whatever it was did move.”

“How do you know all this?” queried Norbert, “I’ve never heard of this Reyer and I’ve been a sailor all my life.”

“Not surprising, he wrote his observations down in a little-known memoir almost a four hundred years ago. As for how I know it,” Erec shrugged,” I just do.”

Before Norbert could ask any further Erec hissed in pain. He felt as if shards of ice were being used to carve furrows in his chest. He stumbled to a standing mirror that Bovin kept bolted down to the floor in the cabin. Erec ripped his shirt off and looked at his chest. There written backwards as to be legible in a mirror was a short paragraph.

“In two months, a women named Agace Martel is to be married off in Strombreaker city. Before that time find her and ensure that she only marries a man of her choosing. She must also retain all her legal property. A favour is owed, a favour is called in. A word once given is stronger than memory.”

“Well, that’s a bit of luck,” said Erec turning and rooting through Bovins cloths to find a replacement shirt. He had caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and found out what he looked like. He was a boy no older than sixteen possibly fifteen. He had black hair and eyes so green that they looked like lush grass. Despite his malnourishment he was handsome. No doubt that is why Lothair had picked him.

Norbert looked at him in disbelief, “Luck? You have words carved into your chest by a spectre and you call it luck. I don’t know my letters, but I doubt those scares tell you that you have been blessed by Ambrosine.”

“I knew I would have to pay some debt, at least that debt can be paid off in a place we are already going to. I just need to help some women with her marital problems. It is far easier than I had assumed. As I said however, Norbert, one problem at a time.”

Erec found a shirt that was not too soiled and pulled it over his head, “that death-zone is getting closer, and we need a plan for when it arrives.”

As Norbert started shaking again Erec mused to himself. So far things had felt so easy. He was hoping that the favour would prove difficult, but it seemed disappointingly straight forward. He needed to feel challenged. Feeling the approaching death-zone, he hoped that escaping certain death would be more interesting.