Authors: Luke Scull
Ten minutes later and the captives were huddled together on the main deck. The Crimson Watch surrounded them, swords in hand. Captain Kramer stood on the forecastle. Falcus was to his right, fondling his crossbow as if looking for any excuse to shoot someone. Vargus brooded to the captain’s left.
Kramer placed his hands on the forecastle’s rail and surveyed the men arrayed below him. The stress of recent events had affected him: he looked thin, almost frail. His grey hair was cropped close to his head and his weathered face looked tired. Even so, his voice was strong and clear.
‘By now, you all know where we are going,’ he said loudly. ‘The Swell, a place said to be haunted by the restless spirit of the Lord of the Deep. Be that as it may, we are all here for a reason. Many of you are convicted criminals who have chosen to be part of this voyage rather than face the noose or the headsman’s axe. Some of you are free men who possess the courage to risk your lives in pursuit of greater fortunes. I salute your bravery.
‘I am here because I failed Dorminia and our lord. In his wisdom and mercy, Salazar saw fit to grant me a second chance. I will
not
fail him again.’
Cole looked around as Kramer’s words rolled across the deck. The wind was a constant whistling presence, shaking the mainmast looming over them and buffeting the sails high above their heads. The
Redemption
’s flag displayed a white background, but in an ironic modification of the arms borne by the Crimson Watch, the Obelisk had been replaced by a gibbet. The significance couldn’t have been lost on Kramer or anyone else aboard the carrack.
In the distance,
Red Bounty
struggled vainly to keep pace alongside the swifter carrack. The huge cog was loaded with mining equipment and a skeleton crew of sailors and miners desperate enough to risk their lives in an expedition to the Swell. The dark waters of the Broken Sea lapped hungrily at her sides.
Closing his eyes for a moment, Cole imagined drowning in that sea, thrust into an abyss of crushing saltwater that squeezed the very life from his lungs. The thought made him nauseous again.
‘Pay attention to the captain, dog!’ ordered a Watchman to the side of him. The soldier placed a hand on the hilt of his sword. Cole’s eyes obediently shifted back to Kramer.
‘Tomorrow morning we will arrive at the Swell’s boundary,’ the captain was saying. ‘If all goes as planned, our mining operation will be under way within a day or two. We could be stationed at the Swell for as little as a fortnight. I am a hard man, but I am also a fair one. Do as I command and you might well live long enough to return to Dorminia.’
All across the deck men perked up at the captain’s words. Cole wanted to shake them, yell at them that Kramer was just another of Salazar’s puppets, feeding them a line so that they would work themselves to death. They would be disposed of once their usefulness was at an end. He was a Shard – he knew how the Magelord operated.
‘Bullshit,’ he muttered, louder than he had intended.
‘What?’ It was the same Watchman who had warned him before. The soldier’s eyes narrowed dangerously. ‘Did you just call the captain a liar?’
Everyone turned to look at him. He swallowed. ‘Not at all,’ he replied. ‘Everyone knows that Admir— uh, Captain Kramer is an honest man. As honest as stone, I’ve heard folk say.’
‘And just as dumb,’ Three-Finger added loudly, to Cole’s disbelief. There were gasps followed by chuckles. The face of the Watchman turned an ugly shade of red and he drew his sword. The other soldiers followed suit.
‘Halt,’ ordered Kramer from the forecastle. ‘What is the meaning of this?’ Next to the captain, Falcus had his crossbow raised and was sweeping it over the prisoners assembled below them.
‘These two clowns called you a liar and a dullard, Captain,’ the Watchman answered. ‘Say the word and I’ll put them overboard.’
Captain Kramer looked almost pained. ‘I am loath to waste more lives so early in our mission. Yet insubordination cannot be tolerated, especially from a rapist and a child-fiddler.’
A child-fiddler?
Cole’s jaw dropped. A rational part of his mind told him to keep quiet, but the injustice of it all was too much to bear. ‘Forgive me, Captain, but you’re mistaken,’ he began. ‘I—’
‘
Silence!
’ Kramer screamed. He was shaking with anger. ‘You disgust me. Full details of your crimes were provided for each and every one of you. Some are more unfortunate than others to be here, true, but you, and
you
’ – he pointed at
Three-Finger
, and then at Cole – ‘deserve everything that might befall you on this ship. You’re the lowest form of scum.’
Cole bit down on his tongue so hard he tasted blood. This was a travesty!
‘Enough of this,’ Kramer said irritably. ‘You prisoners will be returned to the hold, where you will remain until your evening meal. If I so much as hear a complaint about the food from either of
you
,’ he added, glaring at Three-Finger and Cole, ‘you’ll both go over the side.’ That said, he turned his back on the crowd and disappeared off towards the bow. Falcus pointed his weapon at Cole, smiled, and then followed after the captain.
‘You crazy idiots,’ Soeman said, once they were back in the hold. ‘You almost got yourselves killed.’ He coughed and spat blood onto the soiled planking beneath them.
Three-Finger shrugged. ‘Death by drowning don’t seem so bad. I can think of nastier ways to go.’ He had an evil look in his eyes that made Cole uncomfortable.
‘Ain’t nothing worse than the Swell,’ the old sailor, Jack, spat. He made a warding sign in the air with his left hand. ‘I want to stare death in the face. Not be swallowed up by the sea when I least expect it.’
Three-Finger raised his mutilated hand and scratched at his scabrous cheek. ‘Most of us haven’t got any sailing experience. Know what that tells me? They mean to use us for all the dangerous shit – stuff no sane man would do. We won’t make it out of here, none of us.’
Cole cleared his throat noisily to get their attention. He’d had an idea. It was crazy and dangerous and some might even say foolish, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
When hard decisions need to be made, hard men step up to take them
. He had read that in a book once, and it had struck a chord.
‘Once we’ve reached the spot where we’re to begin mining, what happens?’ he asked softly.
Soeman answered. ‘
Red Bounty
will drop anchor. We’ll board her and begin unloading the equipment. It will be heavy work.’
Cole dropped his voice to a whisper so that only Soeman, Three-Finger and Jack could hear. ‘What if we create a diversion on the
Bounty
? Soeman could sabotage a piece of equipment and draw the attention of the Watch. If we can empty the
Redemption
of soldiers, we could sneak back aboard this ship and steal it before they realize what’s happening.’
Three-Finger grinned, flashing yellow teeth. ‘And what about her crew? You think the four of us can handle a dozen men? You’re deluded.’
‘Not just the four of us,’ Cole replied. ‘I can convince some of the others to join us. The sailors on board this ship are poorly armed. They’re no warriors. On the other hand,’ he said, waving an arm at the shadowy figures scattered about the hold, ‘most of us here know how to fight. Am I right, Three-Finger?’
‘Aye, I’m a surgeon with a shank,’ the convict replied. ‘And there’s plenty more killers among us. But we’re unarmed. We’ll be cut to shreds.’
Cole just about stopped short of tapping his head knowingly. He had them right where he wanted them. ‘The mining equipment is sure to include objects that can be used as weapons. Picks and hammers, that sort of thing. While the Watch are distracted, we’ll arm the other captives, board this ship and force the
Redemption
to sail before those aboard
Red Bounty
know we’re gone.’
It was old Jack’s turn to speak. ‘I can captain this ship, that I can.
Red Bounty
won’t stand a chance of catching us. But where would we go?’
Cole shrugged. ‘Anywhere, so long as it’s away from Dorminia.’
Soeman shook his head slowly. ‘This is madness. We’re better off working the Swell and hoping for a pardon from the magistrates. I have a family to think about.’
Coward
, Cole wanted to hiss at him, but he forced a look of compassion onto his face. ‘I understand your fears, Soeman,’ he said gently. ‘But do you think your family would want you to die out here alone in a freak accident? Or swallowed up by the Swell? No. They would want you to die
fighting
.’
He had a sudden flash of inspiration. ‘Besides, you’re sick. You’ve contracted something bad, Soeman. You can’t risk exposing your family to whatever disease it is you have. Better for them to discover that their beloved husband and father spent his final days a free man, sailing the sea alongside boon companions like the storied heroes of old.’
The engineer sagged. ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘I’ll make my family proud of me. Maybe… maybe we can send some gold home to my wife. Just so she doesn’t have to work the streets any more.’ His voice had turned hopeful.
Cole smiled. ‘Of course we will,’ he said.
If we have anything left to spare. Organizing a rebel army isn’t going to be cheap
. ‘I need to share my plan with the others,’ he said. ‘I’ll wait until this evening when it’s dark and I can move freely above decks.’
‘I’m with you, lad,’ said Jack. ‘I’ve wanted my own ship for years. Hah, I got caught trying to steal a pretty little schooner from the harbour. Turns out it belonged to a powerful magistrate. I was up for hanging until the
Redemption
called.’
‘Count me in too,’ said Three-Finger. ‘I’ll die with a weapon in hand if I’m going to die at all.’ The convict rubbed at his ravaged face again. ‘You still haven’t introduced yourself, kid. Or explained how it is you think you can convince a bunch of criminals to work together and pull off the escape of the century.’
Cole squared his shoulders and gave each of the three men a weighty stare, aches and pains forgotten in the sudden rush of pride. At last he was getting the respect he deserved! He could already see the amazement on Garrett’s face when he unveiled the full depth of his brilliance in years to come.
‘My name’s Davarus Cole,’ he said. ‘As for the exact details of how I’m planning to pull this off, you don’t need to worry yourselves. I have a lifetime’s experience with this kind of thing. You see…’ He paused momentarily for effect. ‘…
this is what I do
.’
Yllandris had thought she understood what it was to endure the deepest cold. The last couple of days had taught her otherwise.
She squinted, trying to make out the town a scant few hundred yards ahead of the war party. The blizzard that had buffeted them for the last few hours persisted stubbornly, slowing their advance and piling on the misery that had blighted the march since it began.
‘Fucking spirits be damned,’ Krazka spat, wiping frost from his beard with the back of his hand. His dead eye had frozen over and gleamed malevolently from his cruel face.
Standing beside the bloodthirsty chieftain of the Lake Reaching was Orgrim Foehammer. The grizzled old campaigner hefted his infamous great maul and scowled at the small army of Highlanders bustling behind them.
The war party numbered around five hundred men. The two Reachings provided the bulk of the force, with a further century of Heartstone’s finest warriors supplied courtesy of King Magnar. Somewhere in the swirling snow up ahead the menagerie of beasts that was the Brethren lay in wait. They would swarm out of the mist the moment hostilities with Frosthold began, a deadly whirlwind of claw and fang rending all before them.
The war party had lost seven men on the trek northwards. A mountain bear had burst out from an unseen hollow and killed the first, shaking him like a leaf until his arm tore away at the shoulder. The huge predator had begun disembowelling the screaming warrior before the first of half a dozen spears had buried themselves in its hide.
Two more Highlanders had plummeted to their deaths after a gust of wind stole them from the side of a ridge. Another three died of hypothermia.
The last man simply disappeared overnight. None of his fellows could recall his departure. That incident was the most troubling of all, as Wulgreth had originally hailed from the North Reaching before swearing loyalty to King Magnar. If he had deserted to warn Frosthold of their coming, the invasion of the town would prove all the more difficult.
And difficult it was likely to be. The capital of the North Reaching was home to almost three thousand Highlanders, a full quarter of them men of fighting age. However, that wasn’t what bothered Yllandris most. Frosthold’s circle was both large and powerful. Even with her sisters and the circles of the two Reachings beside her, the young sorceress felt a hint of trepidation.
Fifteen sorceresses against eight. The High Fangs will not have witnessed such a contest in many years
.