Fable: Edge of the World (8 page)

“Look!” said Finn. He held up a spoonful of stew, and the king could see steam wafting off of it. The king laughed. Someone broke out a lute and began to regale them with lively tunes. Many voices joined in, and some brave folks even got up to dance.

The cold set in once the sun finally set. Even so, most seemed to prefer settling in for the night on deck, where there was fresh, if cool, air, and no rain for a change. The king stood and leaned up against the railing. He peered down but could see nothing in the darkness as the ship peacefully rocked at anchor. He looked up, to the north, the shore of Samarkand no longer visible.

But something was.

He rubbed his eyes, making sure they weren’t playing tricks on him. No—they were lights, bobbing gently, pinpricks in the darkness but closing.

Lights from the lanterns of approaching vessels.

“All hands on deck!” cried the king. “Battle stations!” So the bastards weren’t even waiting for them to land before attacking. They—

A hand fell on his arm. “Your Majesty, these are not Samarkandian vessels. They are the trading ships from Aurora! Look at the colors of the lights—we tint our lantern glass that particular hue of red!”

Relief washed through him. “Belay that order!” he cried. “These are
our
ships!” The bustle of a crew about to engage in attack muted to shaky laughter then cheers.

“This is a good sign,” said Kalin, beaming. “The ships are greatly overdue, but they are intact and free to sail to greet us.”

“But why were they delayed at all?” the king asked.

“We will ask the crews and find out,” said Kalin. “I’m sure they will have much to tell us.” The ships were drawing closer now, and the king could faintly make out the distinctive Auroran design. He could even see faint shapes moving about on the deck. He narrowed his eyes. There was something he couldn’t put his finger on—something about the way they were moving, in a halting, jerky sort of manner, and there were little lights, barely visible, where their eyes—

“They’re hollow men!” he cried. “It’s a trick! Battle stations, everyone!”

The captain took over shouting orders while the king began loading his rifle. Beside him, Kalin looked stricken. “Get below and take Shan with you!” he shouted to her. “You’re a leader, not a fighter. Let us handle this!”

“I am no Hero,” said Kalin, “but I have learned how to handle a rifle. Give one to the boy as well. Thank goodness there are only the eight ships.”

The ships were drawing closer. There was no time to argue, so he merely nodded.

Finn, not surprisingly, was already in position. His rifle, dubbed “Vanessa,” cracked with what seemed like lightning speed, and the king saw a shape drop with every shot.

The enemy vessels were converging on the flagship
Queen Laylah
. Only eight they might be, but it was still a terrible sight—eight tall ships manned by the dead. Their eyes shone with an eerie red glow, mimicking the deceptive lanterns that had gulled the king’s navy into thinking the approaching ships were allies.

“Fire!” came a shout. The ship’s timbers shivered as the port cannons roared, striking one of the Auroran ships full on.

“What are they?” Shan cradled a rifle at his shoulder and
fired. He was nowhere near as good as Ben or the king, but he had clearly used a rifle before.

“They were once men,” the king answered. He steadied the rifle, held his breath, then exhaled as he pulled the trigger. It struck in the center of a hollow man’s chest, and the walking corpse dropped. “They should have a peaceful rest. Instead, their bodies are inhabited by angry spirits, who would live on at any cost. Most of them are mindless, but not all. Aim for the center of mass. Some of them survive losing arms”—he fired—“legs”—he fired again—“even heads.”

Shan nodded, reloading. “I have heard of such things,” he said. “But I only ever saw the Shadows and the beast-men—the jakala.”

Click. Click
. Out of ammunition.

The air was pierced by screaming—not the angry, take-that-you-rotter shout of one person attacking another, but the scream of someone utterly in terror.

The king swung around just in time to see four hollow men crawling over the railing. Soldiers were hacking at them wildly, their wits and skill returning. Two of the undead, cut literally to pieces, splashed—multiple times—into the ocean below. The other two made it onto the deck and began fighting, each carrying two pitted but lethal swords.

The king unsheathed his own sword. Blue-white runes danced along its edges as he swung in a wide arc, cleaving through one of the leathery, skeletal, undead creatures. The red light in its eyes went out. Six more were clambering up the sides.

“Crossbows!” he cried. “Dip them in pitch and set them aflame! Aim for the sails!”

He swung again and again, cutting a swath through the lurching things that once were men. A huge boom sounded, and the
ship shivered again.
Good. Keep firing
. Some would surely be trapped by the sinking ship, and he and the crew could take those that survived as they tried to climb aboard.

And then suddenly there was another boom, and the king was knocked off his feet as the ship lurched violently to starboard.

These hollow men were clearly not all mindless.

The king scrambled to his feet. Other ships in his navy were firing on the hollow men’s ships as well. One of them was almost completely blown to timbers, while another one was halfway sunk. Hollow men were crawling off it like the proverbial rats, heading straight for the
Queen Laylah
.

“We’re taking on water!” the captain cried. “Your Majesty—what should we do?”

Panting, the king swiftly assessed the situation. The hollow men seemed exclusively focused on the flagship—and his soldiers were hampered, as they dared not fire their cannons too close to their king.

“It’s the
Queen Laylah
, and me, they’re after,” he said. “Tell everyone to abandon ship. Have them head for the nearest friendly vessel or else strike out for shore. We’re not that far. Give everyone a few moments to get clear, then have every single ship still afloat target both us and the remaining two enemy vessels.”

The Auroran captain nodded. The monarch was impressed by his calmness. “Aye, sir,” he said, and began to shout the orders. The
Queen Laylah
was sinking quickly, and staying upright was becoming nearly impossible.

“We’re not going to leave you!” Ben shouted. He, Kalin, and Shan hurried up to their king.

“No, you’re not,” said the king. “Because we’re all going to swim for it. The shore is due north! Come on!”

And with that, he grabbed Kalin and Shan and leaped overboard.

The water was freezing and black as pitch. The sinking flagship threatened to pull them down to the briny depths with it, and the king kicked and pulled furiously to escape. He sank for what seemed like forever, then his head broke the surface and he gasped for breath. Beside him, Ben, Shan, and Kalin surfaced.

The ploy seemed to have worked. The flagship was partly submerged by now and was crawling with hollow men. “Go, go!” the king urged, setting action to word and striking out with all his strength toward a gap between two ships. If the
Queen Laylah
’s captain had made it to another vessel and relayed the king’s orders, they didn’t have much time.

They had barely gone twenty feet when it seemed like chaos itself was unleashed. The nearly deafening sound of several cannons firing at once made the king wince and he dove, letting the water muffle the sound. He went as far as he could, his lungs burning for air, and when he surfaced he looked back.

The
Queen Laylah
was nothing more than a pile of burning flotsam. So were most of the hollow men who had been on it. The cannons kept roaring as the royal naval ships slowly swung about to target the rest of the enemy.

The king sucked in air, relieved, and was even more pleased when he saw so many survivors. He waved his arm, and gasped, “To shore!”

A few minutes later, they drew close—and Ben swore. Quite colorfully.

Not all the hollow men had been on the ships.

Ben let out a yell and charged, wielding the soaked and useless Vanessa like a club. Running at full tilt, the king unsheathed
his sword. The wet hilt was slippery in his hands, but the blows he struck were true. He grasped the weapon and swung mightily, turning the hollow men into just so many body parts. Out of the corner of his eye the king saw Shan fighting desperately, and even Kalin, unfamiliar with swords, was doing the best she could. Several yards out to sea, the skies were lit with red and orange, against which rose plumes of smoke.

They kept fighting. The sound of gunshots erupted behind the king, and he realized that some of the soldiers had made it to shore in small boats. More and more came, firing guns and charging with swords, until at last it seemed that they were finally outnumbering the enemy.

The king continued to fight. Finally, the sounds of gunfire slowed, then ceased. A cautious cheer went up.

“That should teach those buggers,” Finn said cheerfully. He picked up Vanessa, tilted the rifle muzzle down, and sighed as water poured out. Vanessa would be usable again, but not without some tender loving care.

The king looked back over the ocean. The fighting was over there, too. The ships were approaching, and he realized sickly that there were several fewer of them. One of the men strode up to him.

“Sir,” he said, touching his forelock, “we lost four other ships.”

“Which ones?”

“
Sea Lady, Good Boy Rex
, the
Sir Walter Beck
, and the
Tiderunner
,” the man said somberly. “Seems like many of the crew and passengers survived, but all the cargo’s at the bottom of the ocean.”

“No,” breathed Kalin, who had stepped beside the king. She folded her arms closer to her chest, shivering.

“Please don’t tell me those were carrying ballistae and catapults and other very handy siege weapons,” said Ben. “Or food
supplies and ammu …” When silence from the king and Kalin was the answer, he grimaced and turned away. “How is that possible? They’re bloody walking corpses!”

“Remember the scarecrow when we first fought together, Ben,” the king said grimly, and Ben grew pale. Ben and the king had met at Mourningwood Fort, where the first indication that the hollow men were coming was when one of them disguised itself as a scarecrow—that came to terrifying life. Or undeath, as the case may be.

“What about … scarecrows?” asked Kalin, unfamiliar with the term.

“Let’s just say that both Ben and I have run across some hollow men who seemed to know exactly what they were doing,” the king said grimly. “At least some of them had enough of a mind left to steer the ships and direct the attack.” He sighed. “Come on. Let’s get a fire going—we don’t want to be surprised by anything else tonight. Once it’s light, we’ll assess our situation.”

Few slept that night even though the fires offered warmth and comfort. Morning arrived early, with a heat that was at first welcomed but hinted at a scorching day to come.

The news was not as good as they had hoped, but not quite as bad as they had feared. Over two hundred soldiers and crew were lost, but considering only five ships were sunk, the loss of life was small. Ben was cheered after locating his friends Russell and Thorpe alive and well, if a bit waterlogged. A few heavy weapons still survived, and enough horses and oxen to move them. And best of all, they had sufficient rations for the time being, including precious fresh water. The morning was spent unloading and inventorying, and the day grew ever hotter.

The animals—horses, donkeys, and oxen—were led onto land and given water and food. What ammunition, weaponry,
and supplies had survived last night’s attack had been prepped for travel on wagons, which would be drawn by the oxen. Shan sought out the king and showed him where they were on the map.

“We came ashore too far to the west,” he said. “The main port city, Fairwinds, is about seven miles east.”

The king stroked his chin, thinking. “I rather think we should avoid Fairwinds if we can. Those ships crewed with hollow men most likely sailed from there.”

Ben and Kalin had come up while they were talking and listened attentively. “Agreed,” said Kalin firmly. “My people only have sketchy maps, but that is the closest port—and the main one. It is likely that it is under the Empress’s control—or else everyone there is dead.”

“Either way, sounds like a highlight to miss,” said Ben. “What about it, Shan? Can we pick up the Great Trade Road a bit farther north?”

Shan looked uncomfortable. “It will require a detour of about twenty miles through difficult terrain,” he said. “I do not know if the siege weapons can cross it.”

“Lovely,” said Ben. “Towns ruled by an evil Empress or dying in the desert.”

“We will not die,” said Kalin. “But we may need to leave weapons behind if they cannot cross.”

“Well, I don’t like either choice,” the king said. “But I think the one that gives us the best chance is the desert crossing. I’ve no desire to become a hollow man myself.”

Everyone was forced to concede he had a valid point. There were several horses that had been intended for riding; now the noble beasts would be pressed into service as mere pack animals, and all of the would-be riders, including the king—he
would not ask of his soldiers what he himself would be unwilling to do—would have to walk. At least until they hit the Great Trade Road.

The king made a point of shaking the hand of every captain and thanking him or her personally for aid rendered. “Sail for Aurora as soon as you can. When you arrive, get word to Albion that we have arrived safely,” the king said. “I have faith in our victory, but it won’t be for at least several months. Return for us in four. Hopefully, we’ll all be sitting here, playing Keystone while we wait for you.” There were a few chuckles and smiles at the image. He grinned reassuringly. “I will be able to send up some magical activity that you can spot a fair distance from the shore.”

He hesitated. He disliked what he needed to say next—not out of fear for himself but because he knew even mentioning the possibility would dampen morale. Still—the words had to be spoken. “If for some reason I am not able to be present, we have a few flare guns. And if we’re pathetic enough that we don’t even have
that …
look for a large fire on the beach.”