Shadows of Men (The Watchers Book 1) (5 page)

              Then, all of a sudden, the High Protector stepped forward and gave a shout to cease fire.  Tammeran was vaguely aware of a blur of flesh that darted from his side and away from the line of victims.  He saw the archer that stood next to his executioner raise his arrow and fire into the air.  Tammeran followed the arrow with his gaze until it landed at the feet of the boy that had run.

              The young lad had let fear drive him away.  He had spun around at the word ‘aim’ and ran, making for the edge of the Twin Peaks forest as fast as his feet could carry him.  Tammeran could hear his frightened gasps as he ran on, leaping over the wayward arrow that had missed.

              Another arrow whizzed past Tammeran and he begged the Gods to let this one miss its aim as well.  The arrow landed behind the boy this time, even farther from its mark than the first one.

              Tammeran heard the frustrated sigh of the High Protector.  He turned back around and watched as she took the bow and arrow from the archer and shoved him aside angrily.  She took four small steps forward, raised the arrow and pulled the bowstring taut, taking her time lining up her aim.  All the while the boy was getting closer and closer to vanishing into the forest but Tammeran knew the High Protector would not miss. 
She never misses. 

             
A small, horrified gasp escaped his breath as she loosed her arrow.  It flew past his head with a soft hum, singing as it made its way towards its victim.

              Captain Jamus led the procession that Lord Ivran Cassius had insisted follow him.  Not only did Lord Ivran send him with a small army to escort him through the wilds of the Ylian outskirts, but Lord Ivran rode amongst them.  He had welcomed Captain Jamus with open arms into his city and when Jamus told him of the refugees, he gathered a contingency of men and was heading towards them within the hour.

              “They will need all the help they can get for the remainder of their journey.”  He said to Jamus.  “They need food and protection and we will bring it to them.” 

              Two-hundred horsemen rode from the gates of Ylia and even after three days of riding they were not tired in the least.  They rode on with determination, wanting nothing more than to help the innocent people who wished to flee from the King’s tyranny. 

              The group of riders moved forward without much worry in their hearts.  They japed and laughed and rode on, knowing they would reach the group of refugees soon.

              On the fourth day, they came over a ridge and stopped abruptly.  Their horses neighed in protest to the sudden pull of the reins and all joking and laughing ceased.  Lord Ivran and his men looked down to the valley below in horrified shock, unable to move forward. 

              It was Captain Jamus that rushed ahead.  He had dismounted and ran on foot, down the hill towards the smoking pile of rubble.  Lord Ivran would have done the same but he did not share Captain Jamus’s curiosity- he knew the smell of burning flesh. 

              Captain Jamus rushed to the pyre and stood before its smoldering remains with eyes widened.  Amongst the ashes and smoking dust and buzzing flies that were feeding upon the carcasses, he could faintly see the bones of the bodies that had been piled on top of each other and burned.  He felt the sting of tears in his eyes and his legs suddenly gave out from underneath him.  He fell to his knees and was barely aware of the cry of sorrow that escaped his lips.  He cried out to the heavens, wondering how the Gods could allow this to happen. 

              It was Lord Ivran that pulled him to his feet and gently guided him away.  He wrapped Captain Jamus in his arms and began leading him back up the hill. 

              Jamus barely heard through his own sobs Lord Ivran bark orders to his men to bury the bones of the victims then Lord Ivran leaned in close and whispered into Jamus’s ear; “we will get revenge for what has been done on this day.  She will pay.  They will all pay.”

Chapter 3

T
he sun had yet to peek over the horizon but already the city of Tyos was bathed in a warm blue light, making it seem as though the waters of the Blood Sea spilled over into the empty streets.  The breeze blew the smell of the salt and the dampness of the ocean spray into the city, causing the rooftops to drip with moisture.  Years of this had allowed for dark moss to grow upon the rooftops and wooden planked walls of all the shops and houses lining the streets.  The dirt of the roads in Tyos was always muddy during the winter months, whether it had rained or snowed or was just overcast.  But on this day, one of the last days of the lingering summer months, the streets were dry from the heat, sending little plumes of dust into the air whenever the dirt was disturbed. 

              It was the footsteps of Tybalt Latimer that sent the dry dust spiraling into the fresh, morning air.  All was quiet and serene as he made his way through the empty streets- the way Tyos always was an hour before sunrise.  The houses and villas he passed were dark and lifeless as the occupants inside slept.  The shops and vendors that were so lively during the day were abandoned and seemed almost dreary as he passed, bathed in only the pre-morning dawn that filled the empty streets.  The only sounds that could be heard at this hour were the occasional neighing of a horse off in the distance and the soft crunch of his own footsteps as he walked.

Over his shoulder, he carried a large knapsack filled with tobacco, the finest liquors that only the North produced, and sweets his wife had made for him and his crew.  He could smell their sugary aroma as he hoisted the sack higher upon his shoulder and almost felt tempted to have a taste before greedy hands pilfered their way through them.  He was not fond of the sugary flavors of candies or cakes, but when his wife was the one cooking them, his mouth would water at the first scent he got.  She was known in town for her incredible ability to bake and everyone seemed to flock to their house whenever she was in the kitchen. 
Gods, I will miss that woman! 
 

              As he walked, his smile never faded but only grew wider as the smell of the sea became stronger.  He knew he was close to the docks and soon, his beloved Sea Voyager came into view.  Her masts rose proudly into the sky as she rocked gently back and forth with the incoming waves.  The sound of them breaking upon her breast hit his ears and he had never heard such sweet music before.  The wooden hull of her vast breast jutted out before her in eagerness to set sail, as though she was more desperate than Tybalt for the open sea air.  Her white sails were flapping in the breeze like the arms of a ghost, alerting Tybalt to the fact that conditions were perfect for sailing.

              All his childhood, he had dreamed of sailing on the open sea and all his adult life had been spent doing just that.  Though he loved his wife very much, his heart truly belonged to the ocean.  The sounds of it rang in his ears constantly and his dreams were consumed with his Sea Voyager and the feeling of the wind in his face as she pressed on faster and faster.

              Tybalt desired nothing more than the freedom of the sea.  He longed for the days when he could sail away from his tiny home and bask in the vastness of the open blue before him. He spent most of his land-locked days curled up in his favorite reading chair next to the hearth, staring out the window with dreamy eyes at the ocean beyond. The sight of the sparkling water on a bright, summer day never ceased to inspire him.  

              At long last, after what seemed like hours of walking, Tybalt reached the docks.  His ship loomed over him at the last dock and his crewmen were already loading provisions onto her.  The morning sun had just begun to make its daily appearance, rising over the horizon looming behind his vessel.  The orange glow burned through her sails and tinted her wooden frames, making it look as though she were made from pure gold.  He smiled at the glorious sight of her but turned his head away quickly when he noticed the men standing before his ship. 

Next to his Sea Voyager, he spotted Merek Vandram, the Protector of Tyos.  He was a tall, muscular man, with dark hair and dark eyes that always seemed to glow with warmth.  He was wearing his usual brown leather jerkin and thick, wool pants.  On his belt strap hung the sword that he was never parted with.

Next to Protector Merek, stood a tall, spindly man that seemed to struggle to stand upright in the morning breeze.  His name was Thurdan Malum, Sorcerer of Tyos, and he rarely made an appearance into the outside world.  His haggard visage and pale skin made him look as though he spent his days lurking deep within some forsaken cave, with no light or warmth to keep him company. 
The man looks as though he has never spent a day of his life out in the sun.
  He wore a long dark robe and kept his hands stiffly at his sides.  His balding head glistened in the sunlight and his bright green eyes darted about as though he were constantly looking for danger.  

              Merek, upon seeing Tybalt approaching, smiled warmly and waved in greeting. 

              “Hello there, Merek!”  Tybalt shouted with gaiety.  “Going to be a wonderful day, do you not think?”

              Merek chuckled and patted Tybalt welcomingly on the shoulder.  “Yes, yes.  I believe you are right.”  He responded, looking up to the sky that was now turning a soft hue of pink as the sun was making its morning appearance over the horizon. 

              “It will be a glorious day.”  Thurdan piped in his strangely high-pitched and nervous voice.  He reached a wiry hand up and grasped Tybalt’s free hand and smiled at the captain reassuringly. 

              “I have had no premonitions of a storm passing over the Blood Sea.  Your voyage should be both prosperous and uneventful.”  Thurdan stopped shaking Tybalt’s hand and, without realizing that he was doing it, wiped his own hand vigorously on the cloth of his robes, as though Tybalt had soiled him with his touch.

              Tybalt, whose gaze had followed the Sorcerer’s motions, quickly averted his eyes away as to avoid making the Sorcerer uncomfortable.  Everyone knew Thurdan was quirky in his own way and no one questioned him. 

              “That is good news indeed!”  Tybalt said with enthusiasm.  “Since this is the last voyage of the season before the storms begin raging; we will need it to be very prosperous.” 

              Merek nodded his head in agreement.  “Good luck fishing, Tybalt.  We shall see you in a month’s time.”  Merek smiled at the sea Captain one last time before leaving the docks with Thurdan following closely behind. 

              Tybalt watched the two men for a moment before turning his attention back to his Sea Voyager.  With his pack over his shoulder and his head held high, he began the enthralling hike up the plank to the deck of the ship.  His crewmen- who all recognized him- nodded their heads in greeting as they passed him by.  He said a small “hello” to them under his breath and kept walking.

              When he reached the deck, his breath bated.  He always found the pristine look of the clean, unused deck of his ship beautiful.  She had not been walked upon since their last voyage three months ago and had since been scrubbed and shined to perfection.  Only a few scuff marks and muddy footprints decimated the wood planking. 

              Tybalt sighed with satisfaction as he watched his crewmen shuffle about, priming the sails, rolling barrels of food and wine to the stocks below and shouting orders to one another, trying to get the ship ready to set sail as soon as possible. 

              “Hello Captain!”  Tybalt turned his head to find Felix descending the stairs of the top deck.  He waved at his first mate, a young but bright man, with golden hair and a permanent smile painted on his face.

              “Everything in shape then?”  He asked, wondering if they would be able to set sail soon.

              “Everything is ready captain and waiting your command.”  Tybalt removed the heavy satchel, which had been digging painfully into his shoulder, and handed it over to Felix. 

              “Put that in my cabin and help yourself to one of the sweets.”  He looked Felix in the eye stubbornly.  “But don’t tell the other crewmen about the sweets or my cabin will be full up with the thieves.”  Felix smiled humorously before turning and heading for his cabin.

              Tybalt made the ascent to the upper deck and took in a big breath of fresh air.  He stood at the helm; one hand placed upon the large wooden wheel, and looked around. 

              Below him, his crewmen scurried about like ants fighting over a crumb, before him lay the open sea that awaited his launch, with rolling waves beckoning him on.  And towards the city, he spotted his wife, Elza.  Her green eyes sparkled in the morning light; her yellow hair spiraling outward in the soft breeze.  She had come to see him off.  He smiled appreciatively at her and waved.  She waved back at him and placed the palm of her hand to her lips and blew him a kiss.  He reached a hand in the air and pretended to catch it, placing it to his own lips.  He could see her laughing in the distance. 

              Moments later, the sails were set, the wind was blowing generously at their back, and the Sea Voyager was leaving port.  Tybalt looked behind him one last time to say farewell to the only city he had ever loved.  He smiled at its glorious silhouette on the horizon.  It stood above the hill and the rising sun bathed it in a brilliant, golden light, making it look as though the Gods themselves were touching it with their radiant hands.  He smiled and bid the city farewell silently in his thoughts then looked out towards the sea, his only destination. 

***

              The three men sat in Tybalt’s cabin which was small and dark, save for the tiny windows lining the walls, and rank with the smell of salt and moist wood.  They held their glasses in the air and smiled widely at their captain.  He held his glass up as well and beamed down at his fellow crewmen.  All were waiting for him to give the toast. 

              The special occasion as to which they were delving into their libations was a massive shark they had caught while fishing for tuna and hagfish.  The shark measured at fifteen feet in length and had been too heavy for even the three of his crewmen who accompanied him at that moment to lift. 

              Tybalt had ordered the shark to be promptly placed in icy water to preserve its freshness and invited his fishermen inside his cabin for a celebratory drink. 

              Felix was there, along with Tem and Hardy.  They were responsible for capturing the beast.  Seeing its massive fin sticking out of the water, Hardy promptly motioned for Tem to grab the harpoon.  It took all three of them to pull the shark in and even more of his men to lift it onto deck.

              “To a job well done!”  Tybalt shouted and the men cheered, tipped their glasses to each other and drank in celebration.  Tybalt drank his wine in one large gulp, not caring for the taste of it then smiled back down at his men who were beaming up at him proudly. 

              “That fish will be sold for a pretty penny!”  His men cheered once more.  “You can each expect a handful of gold when we return.” 

              “Thank you, Captain.”  Hardy said, delighted. 

              “No, thank you.  This ship would be nothing without you fine men.  And the city of Tyos would starve without your courage to voyage the open sea and wrestle its beasts to death!” 

              The men drank the rest of their wine with a gleeful shout and Tybalt promptly excused them.  His aching feet were screaming at him, begging him to take the weight off. 

When his crewmen were gone, he poured himself a proper drink; a dark, tangy spirit that burned the tongue and throat on its journey downward.  With glass in hand, he stepped over to his desk and let himself fall into the chair heavily.  He propped his feet upon the desk, not bothering to remove his boots.  The day had been long and his old bones had begun to ache with each movement he made.  Even bringing the glass to his lips to take a sip caused pains to crawl up the length of his arm.  He grunted in anger at his aging self and tried to ignore the discomfort as he took a sip.  Just as always, the liquid was warm on his tongue and burned as it trickled down his throat, leaving a small trail of fire.  He pulled the glass away and sighed with satisfaction.  

Tybalt suddenly felt a strong desire to close his eyes and rest.  He placed the glass upon the desk and reached both arms behind his head for support before closing his eyes.  The weariness of the day had finally caught up with him and he was about to fall into a blissful afternoon slumber when his cabin door was thrown open, slamming against the wall, making him jump straight up with a start.

              “You had better come see this Captain.”  Felix said with panic in his voice.  He turned and ran back in the other direction.

              Tybalt, slightly annoyed at the disruption, sighed and forced himself to his feet, listening to the bones in his legs and hips crack in objection. 
Whatever it is, I’ll deal with it quickly so that I can rest. 
He stalked, with shoulders slumped, out of his cabin and headed towards the stairs when he stopped promptly and looked at his crewmen in confusion. 

              All were huddled around the edges of the ship, peering over into the water below.  No one spoke and no one looked up to him in acknowledgement.  He looked up at the sky and realized that the breeze, which always blew, had ceased and their sails sat stagnant without a single ripple flowing through them.