Ocean Of Fear (Book 6) (2 page)

“What happened here?” Zamara demanded. “Tell us!”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” said Frater Jonas. “The King of Siderea has sent us. We are here to protect you.”

They looked from the tall nobleman to the small priest and they seemed more afraid of Jonas than Zamara. It was his robes, Kormak realised. They were heretics of some sort.

“The writ of the King-Emperor don’t run here,” said the boy. His fists clenched. “The Blood Coast is not part of Siderea.”

“King-Emperor Aemon’s word is law wherever his soldiers are,” said Zamara. His manner was lordly but not unkind. “You’d do well to remember that, boy, before you speak.”

The boy glared at him. Kormak recognised the belligerence in him. The youth had looked on horrors. He no longer cared what he said or what might be done to him.

“What is your name, lad?” Kormak asked before matters could spiral out of hand.

“You’re no Siderean,” the boy said. “You don’t look like one. You don’t sound like one.”

“He asked you a question,” Zamara said.

“I’m an Aquilean,” Kormak said. He kept his voice gentle and moved between the soldiers and the survivors. “It’s far north east of here.”

“You don’t sound like a barbarian.” The boy seemed determined to give offence. “You sound like a priest.”

“I was educated by the Order of the Dawn,” Kormak said. The woman perked up.

“You’re a Guardian then, a monster hunter,” she said. “I thought as much from the way you carry that blade.”

Her voice was not what Kormak had expected. It was aristocratic in its way. Perhaps she was one of those who sought sanctity in a simple way of life.

The boy seemed to have found something to hold on to now. “A monster hunter, eh? Well, there’s work for you here!” His voice rose as he spoke till he was almost shouting.

“I thought there might be,” said Kormak. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

The boy’s name was Lorenzo. The woman’s name was Mora. The children were Edwin and Kaili. Their village had been known as Wood’s Edge. It was a peaceful place, founded by Preacher Thomas to enable its folk to explore the simple glories of the Holy Sun away from the corruption and hypocrisy of the big cities and the Universal Church.

Last night a ship had been sighted out at sea, a long sleek vessel, a warship of sorts, flying the flag of Siderea, but not looking much like any royal ship the former sailors among the congregation could recognise. It was too stripped down, too long, too lean. Brother Herman who had a questionable past before he found the Light claimed it was a pirate vessel out of Port Blood. Its sails bore the mark of a Black Kraken, an ominous sign indeed.

The men who had put ashore bore no resemblance to royal sailors. They wore a motley assembly of tunics, head-bands and lace finery that might have come from some wealthy nobleman’s chest. They carried well-oiled weapons. Their leader was a tall, regal looking man with a hatchet-face like that on Siderean coinage.

In the king’s name he demanded to be let in and given food and water. The Preacher refused and that’s when the Black Priest stepped forward at a command from the pirate leader.

Perhaps stepped was the wrong word. He glided, as if his feet did not quite touch the ground. His robes were black. The folds of his sleeves hid his hands. A cowl obscured his face. He spread his arms, emitted eerie sounds in a language that did not sound human. Demons came, like mist taking solid form out of the cold night air. They passed over the walls in a mass of swirling tentacles and terrifying features that the survivors could not quite recall.

The gate buckled at the Black Priest’s touch. The pirates entered Wood’s Edge and worked their will on villagers too terrified to resist. Lorenzo and his mother had somehow found themselves at the edge of the wood, leading the children under the shadow of the trees. They had cowered there, listening to the screams and howls of terror until they stopped and the pirates departed. They emerged to see if they could find any survivors and hid again when the three Siderean ships showed up this morning.

“When did the pirates go?” Kormak asked.

“They camped in the village overnight and they left with the dawn,” said the boy. “I crept along to Headland Point and watched them set out from the woods there. They took the prisoners with them.”

“Prisoners?” Kormak asked.

“Some of the older people. The Preacher.”

“That makes no sense,” said Zamara. “Slavers take men in their prime and young women. That’s not what happened here.”

“I know who they took,” the boy said. “I saw them go.”

“Which way?” Zamara asked. “Out to sea—towards the Sunset Islands?” It was a way of asking whether they had sailed west.

The boy shook his head. “They went upriver.”

The captain looked at him open-mouthed. “Upriver. Are you sure?”

“Yes—they had oars out and they went up against the current. It was not what I would have expected either.”

The captain shook his head. “That can’t be right.”

The woman said, “It is right. We watched them carefully. You would too, if your life depended on it.”
 

“Why would they do that?” Frater Jonas asked.

“You would need to ask them,” Lorenzo said. “I just know that’s the way they went.”

“What’s up river?” Kormak asked.

“Elves,” said the boy. “And a lot of them. We used to see them watching us from the edge of the forest.”

“They ever attack you?”

“Why should they? We never attacked them and we always respected the woods. The Preacher made us.”

“Then we’ve caught him,” said Jonas. “All we need to do is wait here and we’ll catch him when he comes back downriver.”

“If he comes back downriver,” Kormak said.

“He has to,” said Zamara.

“We can’t be certain of that. There are two more estuaries within a score of leagues from here. Your own charts show that. How do we know that those rivers are not connected? They might be able to take another route back.”

“We could split the fleet and cover the river mouths,” said Frater Jonas.

The captain shook his head. “It would surrender our main advantage. We have three ships to his one.”

“We could follow him upriver,” said Kormak. He watched the captain make some calculations in his head.

“The Marlin and the Sea Dragon are ocean-going cogs converted for war. They draw too deep to go far upriver. Only the Ocean’s Blade could follow under oar.”

“And we would surrender our advantage,” said Frater Jonas.

“Not necessarily,” said Zamara. “We could pack the ship with marines. We’d have a numerical advantage in fighting men.”

“You’d need to carry supplies as well.”

“We have the supplies, Frater, and we could put the men on half-rations.”

“Are you seriously considering following this pirate upriver?”

The captain nodded. “There’s a chance we may overhaul him and take him by surprise. And it certainly beats waiting here for an indefinite period of time for a foe that might never come back this way. Who might even get lost in the jungle.”

Zamara was convincing himself. He was one of those officers who preferred glory to waiting. And the Kraken had a large bounty on his head. This expedition might make Zamara’s fortune if he was successful.

“We can leave the other two ships here to blockade the river mouth in case, he somehow slips past us.”

He began to shout orders. Within ten minutes the village was clear and men and provisions were being transhipped to the Ocean’s Blade. The survivors refused to leave their village. Kormak wondered what would become of them.

Kormak stood on the prow of the ship once more, studying the forest as it glided by. At this point the nameless river was wide and slow. A sailor with a plumb-line stood nearby measuring the depth and counting it off.

The Guardian wondered what would happen if the river became too shallow to navigate or was blocked by some obstacle. He consoled himself with the thought that anything that could impede the progress of the Ocean’s Blade would also stop the pirate as well.

Or would it? The Kraken was a sorcerer and now there was this Black Priest to consider as well. He had asked the survivors about his magic but he had not got any more out of them than from his initial questioning.

Sandaled footsteps from behind him told him that Frater Jonas was approaching. The sailors all went barefoot, the marines wore boots and the captain had a heavier stride.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” the priest asked in a confidential tone. He studied the undergrowth by the riverbank with nervous eyes. He ducked his head as the ship swept through a curtain of vines.

“No,” Kormak said. “But what else could we do? Wait for the Kraken to come back? He might never do that.”

“You really think there’s an alternative route.”

“He might be wiped out. The elfwoods can be a hostile place for mortal men.”

“You sound as if you have had experience of that.”

“I have.”

A movement among the trees got his attention. Something was there, among the shadows. A deer emerged.

“I doubt we are going to be so lucky as to find the forest has swallowed our prey.”

“I fear you are correct.”

“It seems strange that a salt water pirate like the Kraken should suddenly decide on a river voyage.”

“It seems strange to me that a sorcerer should turn pirate and start raiding the coasts of Siderea,” Kormak said. “But it has happened. It’s why I am here. The Trefal Merchant’s Guild made a sizeable donation to my Order to ensure it.”

“You think there is a connection between the Kraken being a sorcerer and this little excursion through elf country?”

“Terves was right—we have no idea what is really up here. There could be anything within these woods. They stretch hundreds of miles east of here, all the way to Taurea, and no man has ever crossed them.”

“Or has at least recorded the tale, you are right about that. I’ve heard stories of everything being up here from giant walking trees to a lost city of the Old Ones.”

The water swirled by the prow of the ship. The sweeps moved in time to the drumbeat. Frater Jonas stood by his side in companionable silence till eventually the Guardian spoke, “He’s here for a reason. He has to be. Why come all this way otherwise.”

“This Black Priest—what do you think he is?” There was a curious edge to Jonas’s voice.

 
“I don’t know. It may be an Old One bound to service by soul pact or it may be an apprentice.”

“A strange apprentice who seems more powerful than most masters.”

Kormak tilted his head and stared at Jonas. The little priest smiled. “Magic is studied openly in Siderea, Sir Kormak, and I have found it necessary to learn about it. Sorcery is no easy thing to work. To so swiftly summon the sort of creatures this one did beggars belief. An archmage would struggle to do such a thing and, thank the Light, there are few of those in this world. If this being is as powerful as those poor people implied I fear even you, with your formidable blade and your formidable talents, might struggle to overcome it. And it is the servant...”

“Is it?” Kormak said.

“Ah, now that is an interesting question,” said Frater Jonas. “Perhaps the man we are pursuing is not the one we want at all. Perhaps it is this Black Priest, although I suspect priest is very much the wrong word to describe him.”

Kormak studied the priest. He was taking all of this rather too well. Most priests would have been filled with righteous fury or simple terror at the thought of what the Kraken and his companion had done. “You may be right,” Kormak said.

Frater Jonas made a small grimace that might have been a smile.

“Blessings of the Light upon you, brother,” he said then he bowed and made the Sign of the Sun before he walked away.

“I NOTICE YOU were chatting with our ship’s chaplain earlier,” said Captain Zamara. He used his handkerchief to wave away the cloud of midges that floated above the river in the early evening light. Kormak wondered if he should be flattered at the captain descending from the command deck to speak with him.

“I suspect he is more than the ship’s chaplain.” Kormak said.

“You are a perceptive man.” There was just the faintest hint of irony in the captain’s voice. Zamara walked over to the man checking the plumb-line. He counted to himself, making sure the sailor was doing his job correctly. He walked back over to Kormak, leaned against the deck rail and said, “Frater Jonas is a spy and something more, I think. He has a reputation at court for being an expert on occult matters.”

“You think he is a sorcerer?”

“The good Frater was an inquisitor before he took up his position as spiritual advisor at the Imperial Palace. He hunted witches and burned malefactors.”

Kormak nodded. Perhaps it was not just Jonas’s accent that made Zamara dislike him. Inquisitors were feared. In Siderea, even the mightiest might be brought down by an accusation of witchcraft.

Zamara said, “He was assigned to me as fleet-chaplain just before we departed on this mission. He had been with us only a few days longer than you have.”

“As chaplain? Not as an inquisitor?”

“Exactly so.”

“From the Palace Imperial to the under-decks of a warship in a few days. That is a big change.”

Zamara’s lips quirked into a humourless smile. “Perhaps he has displeased his superiors. Or the King-Emperor.”

“Or perhaps there is another reason,” said Kormak.

“Perhaps. Rumour has it that our Frater Jonas reports only to the head of his Order and the King-Emperor himself. His Order has tentacles everywhere. The tip concerning the Kraken’s course and heading came from their agents.”

Kormak considered this but said nothing.

Zamara remained quiet for a few heartbeats then said, “I disliked having him aboard as much as I disliked having you foisted on me. I confess that since hearing that boy’s tale of demons I am rather glad you are both here. Cold steel, wild seas and decks awash with gore I do not mind. Sorcery sets my blood to freezing and this Black Priest... I like not the sound of him at all.”

Zamara fell silent and stared out into the gathering gloom. He seemed to making some form of judgement as he watched the waters of the river flow sluggishly by. He nodded to himself, said something to the man with the plumb-line and said, “Good evening, Sir Kormak.”