The Awakened: Part 1: Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The sun was touching the western horizon, turning the dark blue of the ocean a fiery orange as Adair entered the courtyard of his mansion situated in the hills overlooking Bastul. All was quiet except for the voices of his son Kael and Ajani, the youngest of the slaves. Ajani was only slightly older than Kael, but much taller. The two were throwing makeshift spears at a nearby tree, and from the look of determination on their faces, it was a competition.

“Hello, boys,” Adair said as he walked up behind them.

“Hello, father,” Kael answered without looking. The boy was holding a spear above his shoulder, readying himself for his next throw.

“I don’t wish to disturb such a fierce competition, but I was hoping that you might know where I could find Saba?”

“He’s gone until tomorrow,” Kael answered.

Adair paused with his hand on his chin. “Well, please continue,” he told the boys with a wave of his hand and walked toward the main entrance of the house. To the right of the stairs, he found Maeryn sitting on a rock ledge which surrounded a broad-leafed tree. She was pruning a flowering bush with her back turned to him. Adair suddenly found a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he decided to sneak up behind her.

“Those flowers just don’t stand a chance at looking beautiful when you are next to them,” he whispered in her ear.

Maeryn jumped at the unexpected sound, spinning around.

Adair couldn’t help the huge smile of amusement that spread across his face.

Maeryn’s startled expression quickly melted. She sprang to her feet and threw her arms around him. “Where have you been? Is something the matter? You left so early!”

Adair rubbed his forehead. “There is always something the matter; never a moment’s rest for me.”

For an instant, a flicker of some emotion crossed Maeryn’s face. Adair had a talent for reading people. It was one of the skills that allowed him to rise so quickly through the ranks to his current position of authority. But sometimes his wife was a complete mystery to him. And now was one of those times. He knew he should ask her what was wrong, but it had been a long day and he wasn’t in the mood for an emotional conversation. “Kael said Saba will be gone until tomorrow?” he asked instead.

“Yes. He left just after dinner. I think he was going to visit a friend. Anyway, he said he should be back before sundown. Are you hungry? I could fix you something to eat.”

Adair smiled. “I’m starving. That would be great!” He knew Maeryn suspected that something was wrong but dinner would be a good distraction. Besides, he couldn’t tell Maeryn what had happened. Especially when he wasn’t sure exactly what had happened himself, or how dangerous the situation might be. Whoever attacked Bahari out at sea was thorough enough to search the beach for survivors, and it wasn’t safe to involve Maeryn at this point.


It was midnight, and there was a slight chill in the breeze coming off the ocean. Adair had been unable to fall asleep and had wasted away the last few hours watching the curtains at the balcony dance in the breeze. Only minutes ago, he decided that the arrowhead wasn’t going to lead him anywhere. Saba was the only one who would be able to make some sense of it and turn it into a usable clue. Unable to bear the boredom any longer, Adair rose from his bed, dressed, and grabbed a cloak before heading toward the guest quarters in the east wing of the mansion. In Saba’s room he found a scrap of parchment in one of the desk drawers and laid it on the desk next to a burning candle. Pulling a quill from its ink pot he began to write.


Saba,
Something terrible has happened to an acquaintance of mine. I am looking into the matter, but have been unsuccessful in finding any useful information to this point. The only clue that I have thus far is this arrowhead. I leave it in your possession to find out what you can about the people who made it. I have been unable to find any meaning in it and would, therefore, be grateful for any information that would aid me in my searching.

Gratefully,
Adair


After blowing on the ink to speed its drying, Adair rolled the parchment and tied it with a thread. He slid the arrowhead inside the tube of parchment and left the message on Saba’s writing desk before blowing out the candle and leaving the room.


Even in the early morning hours, the streets of Bastul were busy, though to a lesser degree than during the day. The majority of the traffic belonged to merchants, wheeling their carts down to the docks to be ready for business as soon as the sun came up. Groups of men clustered in the shadows nursing bottles of wine, occasionally shouting at the passersby, offering some meaningless challenge before collapsing from the exertion of raising their voices.

Through it all, no one noticed the silent, cloaked figure that walked briskly through the alleys, keeping to the shadows so as not to attract attention. Adair was heading for the Shipping District, just as the merchants, but for an entirely different reason. He would have preferred to take a direct route, but thought it best to stay out of sight. It is not often that someone of his position goes skulking around in the early hours of the morning. …or, rather it is not often noticed!

Three blocks from the ocean, he came upon a series of small stone buildings that made up the majority of inns and pubs in the city. Adair peered around the corner and could see a few people hanging around in the street. They were either waiting to be the first customers of the day, or else, they were the last ones of the night. Adair glanced behind to make sure that nobody had followed him and when he was assured, ducked down the back alley. All of the business owner’s living quarters faced away from the main street and toward the alley, so Adair walked softly until he found the building he was looking for.

He walked to the appropriate door and knocked softly. When no one answered, he tried again, a little louder this time. The thick wooden door finally opened just a crack, orange candle light spilling from the opening. Adair pulled back his hood just enough to reveal his face to the person inside and the door opened all the way. A short, fat man filled the doorway, waving his hand rapidly for Adair to come inside the house.

After closing the door, the man put a finger to his lips and turned to walk through a low doorway at the back of the house. Once inside the back room he shut this door behind them as well and offered Adair a seat at a small wooden table. The table wasn’t the only thing that was small; in fact, it fit the rest of the room perfectly.

“What’s the occasion?” the man asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Why don’t you offer me something to drink, Gursha?” Adair said as he took off his cloak and draped it over the chair before sitting down.

“Sorry,” the large man muttered, and walked out of the room.

While he waited, Adair studied his surroundings as a matter of habit. The table was obviously where Gursha ate his meals, but the walls were lined with shelves stuffed with an assortment of knick-knacks that didn’t appear to be kitchen related. Before he was able to come to any conclusions, Gursha returned, carrying a bottle of wine and two dirty glasses. He set them down on the table and slumped into his chair with a look of exhaustion. Adair waited for Gursha to pour him some wine, but the man was clearly flustered with this meeting and overlooked it completely. Adair wasn’t used to meeting his informants in their own homes, so he felt a little out of place, but obviously not as much as Gursha.

“Thanks,” Adair said, pouring himself a glass instead. “I can see that you don’t prefer to meet in your home, but I can assure you, it will be worth your time.”

A greedy smile spread itself across Gursha’s wide face and then quickly retreated, replaced by a forced look of seriousness. Usually, Adair didn’t have to pay any of his informants. There were other methods of extracting information from people. Some were happy to tell all just to escape the punishment that they justly deserved. Others found themselves in trouble so often that they would do just about anything to have friends in high places. Adair had found that Gursha was a unique case. He ran the pub next door and was a legitimate businessman. But there was a way to get to anyone, and Adair had a special way of knowing people better than they knew themselves. The truth was that the Dockside couldn’t survive on its own. Adair timed his meetings perfectly to coincide with Gursha’s financial troubles and was now in a position of providing the pub owner with a necessary second income, to which Gursha had become accustomed.

“Tell me what you know about a man named Bahari,” Adair said as he took a sip of wine, ignoring the stains on the side of his glass.

Gursha grunted and scratched his chin before his eyes lit up.

“A merchant. Hasn’t been doing well lately…specially this year with the bad growing season and all. He’s in pretty deep with Quartus. Last I heard…took a shipment to Nucotu. Hopin’ to get paid better up there.”

Adair liked what he was hearing so far. “When is he due to return?”

“Should’ve been back a few days ago. Missed his deadline from what I hear.”

“And why do you think that is?” questioned Adair.

“Don’t know. Haven’t heard nothin’.” Gursha’s eyebrows wrinkled as he tried to think of where these questions were leading. “Didn’t have nothin’ to do with it,” he said defensively.

“With what?”

“Well,” he paused. “You say he’s missin’, maybe you think I did sumthin’.”

“I didn’t say he was missing,” Adair corrected. “You did.”

Gursha opened his mouth to defend himself, but promptly closed it when he realized that he had nothing to say. Adair was amused at how easy it was to get this man where he wanted him.

“Look,” Adair offered. “I know you wouldn’t be involved in anything like that. But I want to know, in your professional opinion, why would a man like Bahari not meet his deadline? And think carefully about your answer.”

Gursha looked down at the table while he considered the question. Adair knew that this man had all kinds of information in his head. Most of the time, he didn’t even realize it. You don’t run a local pub without coming in contact with all sorts of people who like to tell stories. But the best way to get information from Gursha was to make him feel as though he is constantly on the verge of losing his precious second income. Fear tended to make this confused man think clearly.

Gursha finally started to speak. “He was doin’ better ‘till this year. Was close to having his debts paid off. Things turned bad. Maybe he ran away.” He smiled as the words came out, pleased with his conclusion.

“However,” Adair countered. “He’s got a wife. And you just said he was close to paying off his debts. He wouldn’t just leave with the prospect of getting paid more in Nucotu.” This line of questioning was really irrelevant. What Adair needed to find out was where Bahari was when he was attacked, without revealing any information of his own.

Gursha returned to his thoughts with a look of determination on his face. Adair thought he looked like he needed a push in the right direction. “What are some other reasons that a man might disappear?”

“Two things,” Gursha responded. “If he got in trouble…” His speech trailed off as the thought got away from him and then returned in another form. “He coulda been drunk, crashed his boat. Course, he wasn’t a big drinker.” He paused in mid-thought, still staring at the table. “If he was tryin’ to get back on time…probably wouldn’t stop to sleep. Coulda fell asleep and wrecked on the reef, people do that all the time.”

Adair’s attention perked up at this news. “Why is that?”

“Well, if he was comin’ from Nucotu, he should’ve stopped early before passin’ by the reef. But if he was in a hurry, he coulda tried to go right ahead through the night.”

Adair smiled as Gursha said these words and pulled a bag of coins out of his cloak, setting it on the table. Gursha was visibly relieved to hear the sound of coins clinking together. Obviously, he was worried that his information wasn’t valuable to Adair.

“Do you have a map that I can look at?” asked Adair.

Gursha’s chair creaked as he leaned back and grabbed a piece of parchment from the shelf, disturbing a layer of dust that seemed to have been accumulating for years. Everything was at arm’s length in the tiny room. “Here you go,” he said and laid the old map in front of Adair.

Adair unrolled it and set his glass in one corner to keep it from rolling back. After inspecting the portion of the map that showed the western shoreline of Bastul, he stood up and lifted his glass, emptying it in one last gulp. He set the glass down and slid the map back across the table.

“Thank you Gursha. It’s always a pleasure.” Adair took the bag of coins off the table and tossed them to the fat man who was still sitting. Gursha snatched the bag from the air with an unexpected quickness.

Adair looked at the tavern owner and waited until he had full eye contact. “As always, I was never here, and we never talked about any of this.”

“Talked about what?” said Gursha, his sense of humor the only thing about him that was finely tuned.

“Precisely,” Adair said and couldn’t help smiling.

Gursha grunted as he rose from his chair and showed Adair to the door. When Adair stepped outside, Gursha glanced nervously up and down the street before shutting and locking the door.


The early morning air was cool on Adair’s face. The lurching of the ocean was mesmerizing and he realized how easy it would have been for Bahari to fall asleep trying to make it back to Bastul to meet his deadline. But the normal shipping routes between the coast and the reef were used regularly and situations like Bahari’s didn’t occur often. Bahari was attacked by someone, but it probably didn’t happen on the eastern side of the reef. Remembering Gursha’s map, Adair wondered if Bahari might have fallen asleep, like Gursha suggested, and missed an important turn just before the northern tip of the reef began, causing him to sail down its western side. There were many strange stories about that part of the sea, folklore mostly, told by drunken fishermen who didn’t have much credibility to begin with. However entertaining the stories of sea serpents might be, it was common knowledge to stay away from that side of the reef. It was also dangerous to sail in that water for no other reason than the sharp coral that could sink a boat in a matter of minutes.

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. And that was where he was headed. He knew it was hopeless, but he had to follow through with checking out the area. After all, it was all he had to go on. Who knew how long it would take Saba to find out anything useful with the arrowhead, or if he ever would? By then the trail might be cold.

As soon as he left Gursha’s house, Adair went straight to the docks and boarded a small but fast patrol boat, taking a few soldiers with him. If he did manage to run across the people that attacked Bahari, he would need to be able to maneuver quickly and it would help to have experienced soldiers with him. I should be at home, in bed next to Maeryn! But he knew that on nights like these, his mind would race and he would lie awake for hours only to watch the sun rise. This way, at least he was doing something about the situation.

After a few hours of heading north along the shore, the sun began to rise. It peeked over the mountains to the east, only a bright orange sliver at first. The ripples on the water picked up the color and suddenly the whole ocean seemed to glow around them. Within a few minutes, the sun had risen enough to be seen in its entirety above the mountains. The light quickly changed to a pale yellow which illuminated the whole sky and the orange glow disappeared.

As the morning drew on, Adair wondered about the consequences of leaving so suddenly. He had left a message for Thaddius to watch over things for a few days until he could return. But Thaddius wasn’t a soldier, just an official elected to deal with the social issues that the governor didn’t want to deal with, or else, wasn’t able to because of a military absence. Adair held the position of Colonel in Orudan Military, but, as with all colonels, he also ruled over a city and was charged with its protection. Adair found the dual responsibilities taxing and leaned heavily on Thaddius to handle most of the decisions that were not specifically military in nature. He knew that the city would be in great hands for the duration of his short trip, but he was now starting to consider how dangerous this excursion might really be. What if something happens out here and I’m unable to return to Maeryn and Kael? It was too much to think about and he shook his head to make the thoughts go away.

“Colonel,” one of the soldiers called to him from the main deck, breaking the silence. He walked quickly across the deck and climbed the short ladder to the navigational deck where Adair sat under a canopy. “Sir, if you don’t mind me asking, what are we doing out here?”

The soldier was close to Adair’s own average height with dark brown hair. He had a fierce look in his eyes and it was obvious that he was asking not out of a sense of fear for himself, only curiosity, but didn’t want to offend his superior by questioning his reasons.

“I am investigating the death of an acquaintance. He was attacked out near the reef where we are headed.”

After a moment of silence, one of the other soldiers spoke up. “What do you hope to find? If it was pirates, there won’t be any sign of them by the time we get there.”

Adair smiled. “This acquaintance had an arrow embedded in his leg. Our patrols haven’t seen any signs of pirates in years, but more importantly, pirates don’t use arrows. They are not trained in the military arts. Usually, they are commoners who rely on surprise to overtake their victims. These men were soldiers. And if they were not our own men, I would like to know what rogue soldiers are sailing through the waters of the Empire.”

The sun was directly overhead, beating down on the small crew when they reached the northern end of the reef. They were making excellent time and, as the swift boat made its way around the tip and began heading southwest, Adair’s senses began to tingle with anticipation. He wasn’t sure what he would find out here on the ocean, if anything. Part of him expected to sail around for hours, not seeing anything that would give him a clue as to what might have happened. Another part of him, the part that got excited in dangerous situations, expected to meet confrontation. He was prepared if that was to be the case.

Much to his disappointment, the minutes turned into hours, and still there was no sign of what he was looking for, whatever that might be. He watched clouds roll in from the north, covering the sky in a thin veil of gray. The sun slowly crept west and eventually slipped behind the horizon, turning the sky from pale gray to a brilliant purple. Adair had just come to the decision that this trip was a failure and was about to give the order to turn the boat around when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. He scanned the southern horizon, trying to find what had grabbed his attention, but now there was nothing except for a smooth ocean surface.

“Keep your eyes open for anything unusual,” he called to the men at the bow.

A few seconds later, he saw it again, but it was only visible when he didn’t look straight at it. It was a disturbance on the surface of the water; an area where the reflected light from the sunset danced a little differently than it did in the surrounding water. Being a reef area, there were shallow spots everywhere around them, but something was different about this. It wasn’t just a sandbar or a coral shelf.

“What is that?” one of the soldiers asked.

“I’m not sure, but head straight for it,” Adair answered, hoping that he’d gotten lucky.

Are my eyes deceiving me? It seemed as if something was there on the water, but he couldn’t make out any distinct shape. The men on his boat busied themselves with adjusting the sails to make the change in direction, trying to take full advantage of the wind coming from the west. As their sails bulged once again with air, something inside Adair told him that this was what he was looking for and with every second, he was getting closer.

He was just starting to detect a shape in the shimmering water when it began to change. A dark area began to grow on the eastern side of the shimmer. The darkness seemed to emerge from nowhere and finally detached itself, moving to the left.

A ship! Then another appeared on the right side of the shimmer. Suddenly, his eyes found their focus and it all made sense to him. The ships were emerging from behind a structure on the surface of the water. The pale light in the western sky was growing darker with every second, but now that Adair was able to make sense of what he was seeing, more and more details were becoming visible. It was a circular structure with polished metal walls that reflected the surrounding water, giving the illusion that nothing was there. The camouflaging effect was stunning and it wasn’t until the second ship emerged from behind the wall that Adair was able to understand what he was seeing.

The two black ships which had been moving in opposite directions away from the structure, turned north simultaneously, heading straight for Adair’s small vessel. It only took a few seconds for everyone to realize that they were not equipped to handle this fight.

“Colonel?” one of his men asked, sensing danger.

“Head for the reef. They won’t follow us in there.” We’re small enough to maneuver around obstacles and this boat doesn’t run deep. If they try to follow us, they won’t make it out alive.

One of the men pushed on the rudder and the small boat carved a sharp turn to the port side and headed for the reef. The others jumped into action, trimming the mainsail to keep the westerly wind. The larger boats moved from their intended flanking positions to a direct chase and they were closing in fast, but Adair already saw what he had come to find. These people were doing something out here that they wished to keep a secret. Judging by what they did to Bahari, they were willing to kill for it. But now Adair knew of their presence. He couldn’t hide the smile on his face and soon, the other men were grinning as well, with admiration for their superior.

As soon as I get back to Bastul, I’ll bring the fleet back and find out what they’re hiding.

As their small vessel entered the shallow water of the reef area, they slowed just enough to maneuver through the sharp coral, while still maintaining their lead. The pursuing boats, which dwarfed Adair’s boat, came to a stop as they neared the reef. Adair exhaled a deep breath, relieved to be a safe distance away and protected by the coral. Turning his attention back to the difficult task of navigation, he heard a sharp cracking noise from behind.

All the men turned to look back at the large black boats that had positioned themselves with their starboard sides facing the reef. Their silhouettes were barely visible against the sky in the east. Halfway between them and their pursuers, something landed on the surface of the water. Adair squinted just as it skimmed past the prow, leaving a wake on the mottled ocean surface that quickly faded from view.

An unsettled feeling began to grow in his stomach and his heart began to race as he realized his pursuers had projectile capability. The sunset was almost gone now and within a few minutes, there would not be enough light to navigate the dangerous reef. Just as the thought came to him, he noticed the water in front of the boat getting lighter.

“Hard starboard!” he yelled to the men as he pushed on the rudder.

The boat pitched and swerved to the right. Adair almost lost his footing, grabbing the railing for balance.

Another sharp crack sounded as the crew struggled to adjust the sails, hoping to maintain their momentum. Adair turned to see a splash on the rippled surface of the water as another projectile came skipping toward them. Judging by the angle, it was aimed more accurately than the first.

“Brace yourselves!” As the words left his mouth, the middle of their tiny boat erupted in a shower of saltwater and splinters. The jolt knocked Adair off his feet and he rolled across the deck as the boat pitched to the port side and began to fill with water. He clawed at the wood decking to get a handhold, when his eyes settled on the body of one of his crew only a few yards away. The man’s midsection was almost completely missing. It looked as though the projectile went straight through him as well as their boat.

Adair pulled himself to his feet and scanned the boat, trying to get a sense of the damage. Water poured across the deck and the weight was rolling the ship back to its starboard side. The remaining soldiers jumped overboard, abandoning the ship which was nearly ripped in half and sinking fast.

Adair ran to the nearest port railing and dove over the side. The other men were already a short distance away and splashing so loud that Adair could follow them by sound alone. He began to swim east with a steady pace that he could maintain for a long time. At this point, the most important thing is to keep moving. It took only minutes to catch up to the others. They had slowed considerably after using up their energy with panicked strokes. As Adair closed in on the men, he risked a look behind, but the light was gone from the western sky and nothing could be seen. Even their sinking boat was only a slightly darker blot on the water.

Shouting voices came across the water from the direction of the enemy ships and Adair’s heart dropped. He had hoped they would be satisfied with sinking his ship, but it sounded as though he and his men were being pursued.

“Ahh!” one of his men grunted.

We’ve reached the coral. “Try to stay on the surface as much as possible. The water is shallow, but we should still be able to get over it if we’re careful.” Adair tried his best to sound confident for the men, but he was out of his realm of experience. He really wasn’t sure how close the coral grew to the surface, but it sounded good, and at this moment, keeping the men from despair was important.

Adair flipped over on his back and began to swim with a backstroke, keeping his body on the surface. Then he noticed an orange light hovering over the water behind them. A lantern! The flickering glow illuminated what appeared to be six men rowing and several others standing. Whatever hope Adair had of escaping these men, it had just ended. The rowboat was much too fast for panicked swimmers. We’re not going to make it.

“We’ve got to split up,” he called to the others. No one acknowledged him. He repeated his words a little louder, but all they could hear was their own splashing. Adair decided not to risk yelling any louder to the men and veered to the left, taking his own advice instead. He quickly lost sight and sound of the other men, but the orange light continued to move forward. Adair adjusted his own course even more to stay out of the light, turning directly to the north.

“Stop where you are!” The words came across the water to him and for a brief second, he thought he had been sighted. Then he heard shouts, followed by complete silence.

I’ve just lost my crew!

He quickened his pace and continued to swim north. The minutes passed slowly and Adair began to grow tired. After fighting fatigue for as long as he could, he slowed to an easier pace. The glow of the lantern had disappeared. He wasn’t sure how long he had been swimming, but he knew that he couldn’t keep this up forever. Gradually, the sky lightened and he turned to see the moon rising over the eastern horizon. As it climbed higher in the sky, the concealing darkness vanished.

The orange light of the lantern reappeared a moment later. It was only fifty yards away and it looked like they had already spotted him. The rowboat moved swiftly, coming alongside of Adair as he floated in the water. The men standing in the center of the boat were holding bows, stretched taut with arrows ready.

“Climb aboard,” came a raspy voice.

Adair knew it was pointless to resist, though his mind still raced to find a way to escape. Against his instincts and years of training, he swam over to the boat and grabbed the extended hand of one of the rowers.

“That’s it, nice and easy,” the man with the lantern spoke again.

The rower pulled and Adair slid into the boat, rolling over the side and slumping onto his back with exhaustion. The bottom of the boat had a musty smell like it hadn’t touched fresh air in a long time.

The man with the lantern stepped forward and held the lamp over Adair’s limp body. “I already know from your late friends that you are the Captain.”

Captain? Adair was relieved that his men hadn’t told the whole truth. Although the position of Captain evidently gave him some measure of safety, being a Colonel and the Governor of Bastul was something that should stay hidden.

“Yes, that is true,” he replied, sitting up and wiping the saltwater from his eyes. “What do you…”

Out of the corner of his eye, Adair caught a sudden movement. He didn’t even have time to flinch before something hard slammed into the back of his skull and everything went black.

Copyright 2008-2010 by Jason Tesar

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Chapter 6 >>

The Awakened: Part 1: Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The carriage bounced and creaked in response to the stone road underneath, as Adair watched the scenery pass by the window. To the east, rolling meadows stretched from the road to the mountains, the land rising sharply as it drew close to the foothills. Occasionally, a tall row of trees would divide the land, designating a property boundary. To the west, the cobblestone road gave way to patches of grass, clinging stubbornly to the shoulder, which ended abruptly at a steep cliff. The ocean, which was hundreds of feet below only minutes ago, was getting closer now as the carriage descended into a valley. After a few minutes, the road ended at a sandy beach and the carriage came to a halt. Adair quickly opened the door and stepped out, happy to be rid of his method of transportation. He preferred to ride a horse, but because of his position, was expected to do otherwise for safety reasons.

A hundred yards away, at the opposite side of the beach was a wooden guard tower clinging to the side of the cliff like a vine in one of the surrounding vineyards. It reached from the beach floor, all the way to a lookout perched fifty feet above the top of the cliff. Two of the four soldiers that had been accompanying Adair rode up and began to dismount, intending to follow him inside.

“I’ll return shortly,” he said to them.

They each glanced at the other and then back to Adair, conceding with a nod. Adair turned away and walked toward the guard tower, leaving the men to keep charge of the carriage.

It took him several minutes to reach the lower entry. Two guards on either side of the door tipped their spears in salute. They were otherwise motionless, staring straight ahead without making eye contact. Adair never ceased to be impressed at the discipline of his soldiers, especially those who were stationed at posts far away from the scrutiny of the Governor. It was a small sign, but it confirmed his success at ruling the city. He smiled as he walked past the soldiers and through the stone archway. This room was one of many rooms making up the lower level, serving only as an entrance to the enormous staircase carved into the rock. Around the other side of the building, facing the ocean, were other rooms of supplies and stables for the mounted patrolmen who rode up and down the coast at scheduled intervals, but this one was completely empty. Adair waited for a few seconds, looking around at the construction of the room. He had been here many times, but had never paid much attention to the place beyond its practical uses. He glanced up to the ceiling and observed thick wooden beams that extended twenty feet over his head from their anchor point in the rock cliff, to where they were supported by slightly larger vertical beams buried in the sand. The room itself was nearly forty feet wide, but only half as deep.

To his left, a door opened and another soldier walked through. As soon as he noticed Adair, his casual demeanor disappeared. “Colonel, it is a pleasure to have your company.” The man bowed his head in respect. “How may I be of assistance?”

“I am here to see your Lieutenant.”
The soldier motioned to the stairs. “He is up above in the observatory; I will go fetch him for you.”

“No; that won’t be necessary. I don’t wish to keep him from his work; just take me to him.”

“Certainly,” the man bowed. “Please follow me.”

He led Adair up the stairs, which switched back and forth across the cliff face. The soldier climbed slowly out of courtesy for his superior. After five floors they reached the observatory, which stood even with the top of the cliff. The stairs ended at a spacious room with a balcony overlooking the ocean. From here, a ladder extended through the ceiling, leading to the upper lookout. The Lieutenant was standing at the railing of the balcony, looking north along the beach. He was dressed much the same as Adair, with a hammered metal cuirass and a short red cloak gathered at one shoulder by a silver torc. Though he was younger than Adair, he looked ten years older. His sand colored hair was starting to thin on the top and his weathered skin had seen too many years of sun. Adair walked up behind him, but the Lieutenant was deep in thought and didn’t notice.

“Lieutenant,” Adair said softly.

The man turned his head, startled. It took him only a second to realize who was standing before him and he quickly bowed. “My lord…what brings you from the city?” he asked, unable to hide his nervousness.

“I came to inquire about the man that you found on the beach yesterday.”

“Yes, my lord,” he replied.

“Tell me everything you know.”

“Well,” the man started, “I don’t know who he is, but I can show you where we found him.

“Please,” Adair said, his curiosity peaked.

The Lieutenant motioned for Adair to come farther out onto the balcony and pointed to a sandy finger of land to the north that jutted out from the rocks into the ocean. Adair judged it to be just over five miles away.

“He was found lying face-down in the sand on the other side of that point. It was yesterday morning,” he quickly added, getting ahead of himself. “When we came upon him, he was already unconscious. His tunic was torn in many places and he was badly burned by the sun.” The Captain looked out at the ocean as he remembered. “His hands and feet were cut and bruised all over. It happens when fishermen get tangled up with the reef. He also had a large wound, high up on his left leg. When he was first brought to me, I thought he was dead, but his breath could be felt under his nose. I had one of my men wash him and temporarily dress his wounds. But we were unable to get him to wake up for food or water, so I sent him to the city to be cared for.” The soldier stopped with a puzzled look on his face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know he was important or I would have contacted you immediately.”

Adair dismissed the man’s comments, not wanting to get sidetracked by instructing the Lieutenant about how everyone was important in one way or another. “Did he speak at all when you had him in your custody?” Adair asked instead.

“No, my lord, he didn’t even move,” the Lieutenant answered.

Adair only nodded in reply.

The silence was clearly uncomfortable for the Lieutenant. “With all of the activity around here lately, my men have been volunteering to make patrols rather than waiting for me to order them,” he said, trying to make conversation.

“What do you mean?” Adair said in a stern voice, his gaze now leveled at the man.

“Oh, I beg your pardon, my lord. I didn’t mean to make light of his unfortunate circumstances,” the Captain quickly replied.

“No,” Adair clarified, waving his hand to the side. “What do you mean by all of the activity?”

“Oh!” the Lieutenant exclaimed, a look of relief washing over his face. “I just meant that you are the second person to come asking about the man today.”

Adair’s pulse quickened. “Who else have you talked to?” he asked, not bothering to hide his look of worry.

The Lieutenant, who was looking more nervous by the second, put his hand on his forehead as he tried to recall the details. “Some of my patrolmen came across a young man, maybe thirty years old, walking along the beach early this morning. He said he was looking for his brother…and that their boat had gone down. I told him where we sent the man and offered to have one of my men escort him, but he refused and ran away.”

“I need a horse,” Adair blurted out.

“I’m sorry…” the Lieutenant replied, not understanding what was happening.

“Quickly, I need a horse,” Adair repeated, much louder this time.

“You can take mine; he’s outside that door,” said the Lieutenant, pointing to a door by the stairs.

“Have someone notify my men down on the beach that I’ve gone back to the city.” Adair barely got the words out of his mouth before he reached the door. He threw all his weight at it and it flung open, revealing the rolling hills at the top of the cliff. Squinting at the bright sunlight, he found the horse only a few steps away and ran to it, leaping into the saddle in one swift movement. He pulled hard on the reins, turning the horse around and kicked his heels, causing the beast to leap into motion.

“I’m sorry, my lord,” the Lieutenant shouted, leaning out of the doorway. “I should have taken him myself.”

Adair’s heart was pounding as he raced southward along a narrow path which followed the top of the cliff. One specific part of the Lieutenant’s story worried him the most. Adair made it a point to know everything about his informants. He knew that Bahari had a wife, but was positive that he didn’t have any other relatives.

Adair’s horse was running at a steady pace, despite the winding path. It was obviously used to the terrain from being part of a patrol unit. The path eventually curved to the west and descended steeply, connecting with the western road on which Adair had just traveled by carriage only half an hour ago. It was wider and paved with flat stones, being the main thoroughfare along the west coast. The pavestones which kept the sand from eroding into the ocean made travel by carriage easier, but slowed the progress of a horse. Adair steered the animal to the inside shoulder of the road, where its hooves would find traction in the bare sand. The horse was able to gain speed on the unobstructed road and within minutes he reached the outskirts of the city. Whereas the trip by carriage took him all morning, already he was riding past the vineyards and farmland that surrounded Bastul. Slowly, the rural environment gave way to the urban, as houses and structures of various kinds became more frequent. Just before reaching the Market District, the road forked and Adair veered to the right, taking the road that paralleled the water and ran out to the peninsula, encircling the city.

The organization of the Market District, with its large buildings and regulated structure ended abruptly at the Housing District, which had fewer regulations and resulted in a haphazard look of odd sized and shaped dwellings, housing the bulk of the population of Bastul. Adair counted streets as he passed them, turning left at the sixth one, heading across the peninsula toward the bay.

The temple of Adussk was located at the other end of the district, just before the docks. It sat on a man-made island in the center of the Nescus River, with arched bridges connecting it to either shore. Adair received stares of wonder from the citizens of Bastul as he steered the horse through the western gate and over the bridge. The horse skidded to a halt in the graveled courtyard in front of the building and Adair leaped off, running as soon as his feet touched the ground. His knees were stiff from the ride and he stumbled at first, but ignored the pain and headed up the front steps for the door. He was in too much of a hurry to knock, so he pushed the door open as soon as it was within reach. There was no one to greet him at the entry and he turned right, retracing his steps from the previous night. As he rounded the corner, he almost collided with the old nurse.

“My lord!” she screamed in shock.

“Give me the key to his room,” he demanded, his voice sounding louder than he intended in the close quarters.

The lady struggled in her apron for the right key.

“Here’s the one,” she said as he snatched it from her hand and ran down the hallway.

Coming to the door of Bahari’s room, Adair jammed the key into the lock and twisted it, expecting to hear a click. When nothing happened, he pushed on the door, but it didn’t move. Without waiting for the woman, he jumped back a few steps and kicked at the door with all of his weight. The lock broke and the door swung on its hinges, crashing into the wall with a loud thud. There, on top of the bed, lay Bahari, unflinching.

Adair rushed over to him, but it was obvious that he was too late. Bahari’s skin was a pale blue beneath his sunburn. Adair bent down and put his ear to the man’s mouth, listening for breath.

“What is the ma…” the old lady began as she entered the room, but trailed off as she caught sight of Bahari’s dead body. “Oh my!” she exclaimed. “I just checked on him not more than twenty minutes ago.”

Adair stood up and looked at the woman. “Has anyone been in here?”

“No, my lord…only me!”

“Did you give your keys to anyone after you checked on him?” he asked, trying to calm himself down.

“No, my lord. I always keep the keys right here,” she replied with a pat to the front pocket of her apron.

Adair looked back to the body. As his mind raced to find a solution, something caught his eye. Other than being devoid of life, Bahari’s body looked strange and Adair stepped back, trying to figure out what was wrong. He realized, after a few seconds of inspection, that there was something wrong about the way his head looked in relation to his body.

“His neck is broken,” he said, more to himself than to the old woman. “That rules out death by natural causes.” One thing is sure—the people who caused Bahari to end up in this infirmary were dedicated enough to make sure that he didn’t come out alive. He looked back at the woman. “Someone was in here, and I want to know who.”

“I swear, my lord. I checked on him just a short time ago and he was breathing. His fever had broken, and I went to prepare some broth for him to drink.”

Adair tried to think his way through the problem, starting with the way in. He had to kick down the door, so she didn’t forget to lock it. He looked around the room and his gaze settled on the window, which was the only other way into the room. It was small, but the shutters were open. He walked over to it and looked out, seeing that the ground was only a short jump away. Someone would still be able to climb through if they were determined.

He briefly considered jumping out of the window and searching for the person, but they would be impossible to track once outside of the temple grounds. The city was too big and the population too large. If someone wanted to hide in this city, there were plenty of places to do it.

“I’ll need a moment alone with him,” he told the woman, who now had tears in her eyes.

“Certainly, my lord,” she replied with a sniffle and started to walk out.

“Oh, wait. I need to see the arrow that you pulled from his leg,” he added. It was the only clue that he had to go on.

“Yes, my lord. I will get it for you,” she said and left Adair alone with Bahari’s body.

He sat down on the bed and grasped Bahari’s cold hand. “The gods have not smiled on you today Bahari,” he said aloud. Pausing to find the words, he continued. “I will find the one who did this and I will make it right. You needn’t worry about your wife; she will be taken care of. I will see to that. May you find the peace in death that escaped you in life.”

After a few minutes the old woman returned and handed the arrow to Adair. He fingered the tip of the arrowhead as a matter of habit, before turning the weapon over in his hands. The construction of it showed skill, but nothing unusual caught his attention.

“Thank you,” he said to the woman, tucking the arrow in his belt.

“Shall I notify his family, my lord?”

“No, that won’t be necessary. I’ll take care of it,” replied Adair. He rose to his feet and excused himself, a feeling of defeat replacing his prior sense of urgency.

Copyright 2008-2010 by Jason Tesar

Purchase the full novel in paperback or ebook (for iPad, Kindle, Nook, Sony Reader, and more).
Or, click here for the FREE download of Book One.

Chapter 5 >>

The Awakened: Part 1: Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The rectangular peephole slid open, showing the eyes of an elderly woman, then shut suddenly. A few seconds later, the large door opened inward and the nurse of the temple of Adussk, the god of healing, bowed in reverence before the Governor of Bastul.

Adair Lorus walked through the door and motioned for the woman to rise. Although it still made him uncomfortable, he had come to expect this reverent behavior from his subjects. Each of the royal guards at his flanks carried spears in their right hands and torches in their left, casting a flickering orange glow around the trio, barely fighting back the darkness of the night.

“I was told you have a man in your custody…a sick man.”

“Yes, my lord,” the old woman responded. “He has been here since yesterday morning, unconscious and silent until a few hours ago. But then he started moaning your name, so I sent for you. I hope I have not disturbed you,” she stated quickly.

“Not at all. Thank you for notifying me. May I see him?” he asked, unnecessarily.

“…at once, my lord.” The woman turned to Adair’s right and began walking down a long hall. The dark green fabric of her veil and floor-length tunic billowed as she hurried through the dark passage, restricted only by the leather apron tied at her waist. The sound of their footsteps echoed off the stone floor as they passed numerous doorways and candles burning in sconces along the stone walls. The hall turned to the left and continued for another hundred feet before it ended at a door. The woman pulled a set of keys from her apron.

With a nod of confirmation, she unlocked the door and pushed it open. Adair walked slowly into the room, unsure of what he might find. The guards followed closely, their torches adding to the light from a small lamp hanging on the wall. The soft illumination showed a man lying on top of the sheets, covered in bandages, and throwing his head back and forth. If he had been moaning before, he showed no signs of it now.

“Where did you find this man?”

“A soldier brought him to me. He said they found him on the western shore.”

Adair wrinkled his eyebrows as he walked over to the bed. “Is he awake?”

“No, my lord. It only appears that way because he moves so much.”

Adair stood over the bed with his hands clasped behind his back. It was plain to see that the man was badly injured. He had a large bandage around his left thigh and the skin on his face and arms was burned and peeling. His hair was gray, flecked with brown, and matted on his head. Adair looked at his face but didn’t recognize him.

“No…” the man mumbled and then flinched as if dodging something.

Suddenly, a memory sprang into Adair’s mind. He had dealt with this man before on the matter of neglecting to pay a shipping tax. Usually, any crime against the Empire, no matter how small, was punishable by death under Orudan law. Adair had shown mercy on the man and let him live. After that, the man tried to repay Adair’s kindness by sending word of any criminal happenings around the city, as he became aware of them. Adair had to admit that this man had proven to be a useful informant on several occasions, but he hadn’t heard anything from him in almost a year.

As the man’s name came back to his memory, Adair said it aloud. “Bahari.”

“Do you know him, my lord?” the old woman asked.

“Yes,” Adair answered, wondering why Bahari would be moaning his name. “You said he was found on the western shore?”

“Yes, my lord. That’s what the soldier told me. I’ve…” she started, but then trailed off.

Adair turned to her. “What is it, woman? If you know something, tell me at once!”

“I’ve seen this type of thing before,” she answered, her body language more timid than before. “A man gets in a drunken fight and finds himself washed up on the beach. I thought this was another such occurrence,” she said, her voice lowering to a whisper. “But when I cleaned the wound on his leg I pulled this out.”

Reaching into the pocket of her apron, she produced what appeared to be the dangerous half of an arrow. She handed it to Adair and he took it carefully.

The craftsmanship was better than what the Orud military used, but he couldn’t place it.

“How was it positioned in his leg?”

“May I…?” the woman asked, motioning for the arrow.

“Please,” Adair said, handing it back to her.

“It entered from the back,” she said, holding it up to Bahari’s leg. “But it wouldn’t come out so I had to take it out from the front. It wasn’t easy, but he didn’t even seem to notice.”

Adair looked back at Bahari and shook his head. What did you get yourself into this time? “I am leaving for a while, but I will be back,” he said to the woman. “While I am gone, keep his door locked and let no one else see him.”

“Yes, my lord,” she said with a nod.

Adair strode out of the room with the guards following closely. When he reached the front door, he called over his shoulder to the old woman who was struggling to keep up. “If he wakes up, try to find out what happened.”

* * * *

The sun had just peeked over the mountains to the east and the Bay of Bastul glittered with the first rays of the morning sunlight. Maeryn stood on the balcony of her bedroom with her hands on the stone railing. Her night clothes and long blonde tresses swayed in the light breeze as she took a deep breath of the salty air and exhaled. Adair wasn’t in bed when she woke and the sheets were cold. He had obviously left sometime during the night and it was bothering her. It wasn’t as if this was the first time. Actually, it was a regular occurrence for someone of Adair’s position. But Maeryn was finding it harder and harder to deal with his absences. When you’re the governor of Bastul, everyone needs something from you. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and yawned, walking back into the bedroom.

The house was already alive with activity. The slaves had been awake for a couple hours and were scurrying around the house, busy with their duties. Maeryn pulled a fresh white tunic from her closet and slipped it over her head. The purple thread sewn into the hem dragged on the floor until she gathered the tunic at her waist and fastened it with a matching purple silk belt. She walked barefoot to her mirror set against the wall and sat down in the chair which faced it. Voices drifted to her from different parts of the house as she combed her hair, but she hardly heard them. She was unable to stop thinking about Adair and her thoughts turned from irritation at his increasing responsibilities to worry about his safety.

After combing out a night’s worth of tangles, she wove her hair into a simple braid that hung down to the middle of her back, tying the ends of the thick locks with a narrow ribbon. On the table next to her comb were two elaborately decorated glass bottles of rose oil, a rare treat in her culture. Adair had purchased each of them on separate occasions from a merchant friend of his that passed through Bastul only a few times a year. She pulled the glass stopper from the older of the two bottles and applied a drop to each wrist and one on either side of her neck.

Now ready for the day, Maeryn left her bedroom and descended the stairs leading toward the center of the house, remembering Kael’s excitement about a new project that he and Saba were going to start in the morning. As she reached the first floor, the garden courtyard came into view between white stone columns which supported the overhanging roof. She headed through the center two columns and down a circular set of stairs that led to the gravel floor. The bright morning sun reflected off the top of the house to her left, leaving the rest of the open area in morning shadows. By noon, the sun would be shining straight down into the garden and the many trees and flowers would bask in the warmth.

Just as she suspected, Kael and Saba were at the other end of the garden. As she approached, Saba stood from a kneeling position at the base of a small tree.

“Good morning, Maeryn,” he said in a soft voice.

“Mother,” exclaimed Kael, running toward her and throwing his arms around her waist.

Maeryn reached down and stroked Kael’s shoulder-length blonde hair. His blue eyes were bright, especially when he was excited about something. Most boys his age would be embarrassed to hug their mothers. But not Kael; he was different—special. “Good morning, you two. And what are you working on now?” she asked.

Kael answered excitedly before Saba had a chance. “Saba is going to show me how to graft a branch onto this tree. They are different species, but he says they will grow together if we are very careful.”

Maeryn smiled at his excitement, then looked to Saba. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“My pleasure,” he whispered back.

Saba was an old man, old and wise. He was tall, with silver hair that fell past his broad shoulders and a beard that was just as long. Between the beard and his thick eyebrows, most of his features were covered, except his straight, sharp nose and bright blue eyes.

Adair first met him seven years ago when he needed some information. Adair didn’t tell her much, except that he was impressed with the man’s wealth of knowledge. It seemed that they had just discussed what to do about Kael’s education only weeks before and couldn’t come to a decision. They both agreed that the usual Orud upbringing did not interest them. Most of the education revolved around the history of the Empire and the lineage of Emperors from the first to the most recent. Beyond that, the education was simply a preparation for becoming a soldier.

And then Saba came into their lives. He was knowledgeable about many different cultures, history, religions, economics, nature, and weather. Actually, Maeryn couldn’t think of a single thing that Saba didn’t know about. Not once had he ever responded to a question with “I don’t know” as his answer. Yet, he wasn’t arrogant in any way. In fact, he was one of the most humble people that either of them had ever met. That, combined with his patient and kind personality made him the perfect tutor for their son. Adair wasted no time approaching him on the matter, taking great care to emphasize the fact that the pay for tutoring the governor’s son would be quite handsome. They made sure there was no way he would refuse. And he didn’t.

That was seven years ago, when Kael was only three years old, and Saba had since become part of their family. Maeryn watched as he knelt down and talked to Kael. He was so patient and gentle, and Kael’s eyes lit up with excitement every time Saba was near. The agreement had always been that he would tutor Kael in a variety of subjects for several hours each morning. The hours would get longer as Kael got older, but at the beginning, the tutoring was to end by midday so Kael would also have the time to play like every child should. The tutoring eventually evolved into something much less formal. The two became friends and did everything together. Whether play or work, every situation became a teaching experience and Kael thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it.

“Have you seen Adair this morning?”

Saba looked up and shook his head. “He was gone before I woke.”

Maeryn smiled nervously.

“Have fun, you two,” she replied, turning to leave.

As she reached the steps to the house she turned around to watch them from a distance. They were both kneeling by the tree, as Saba pointed at the peeling bark and explained some incredibly detailed information that would have bored her. But Kael was enthralled. As she watched, her thoughts returned to her husband and she wondered how long it would be until she would see him again.

Copyright 2008-2010 by Jason Tesar

Purchase the full novel in paperback or ebook (for iPad, Kindle, Nook, Sony Reader, and more).
Or, click here for the FREE download of Book One.

Chapter 4 >>

The Awakened: Part 1: Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The sound of lapping waves was faint and peaceful, at first. But eventually it caused something in Bahari’s mind to take notice. He awoke with a jerk. He was sitting at the stern of his cargo ship and the rudder handle was an arm’s reach away, swaying back and forth in unison with the ocean swells. He grabbed the handle and steadied it, cursing himself for his carelessness.

He looked out across the deck of the ship, laden with cargo, and could not see much farther than the bow. A thick fog had rolled in while he slept, reducing visibility to almost nothing. The mainsail was full with a breeze coming from the northwest. Bahari took a deep breath and exhaled, trying to calm himself; sound was his only navigational tool now. Then he heard it again, the sound of waves breaking off the port bow. Leaning to the side, he pulled on the rudder until the boat slowly began to turn starboard and away from the shoreline. He had obviously drifted off course while he slept and immediately felt guilty for endangering the lives of his crew who were asleep below deck.

That would be my luck! He envisioned the boat smashed into thousands of pieces, washing up onto the shoreline for miles. It sickened him to think of how hard he had worked to get where he was. One careless act could have ruined it all. But the feeling of guilt was quickly replaced by a sense of relief at waking up before anything went wrong.

Bahari kept his south-westerly course for almost an hour, listening intently for the sound of waves. When they had faded to almost nothing, he felt confident that he had reached a safe distance from shore and turned the boat back to the south, resuming his course for Bastul. He could feel the pull of sleep dragging him down and knew that if he stayed in his seat he would only fall asleep again. After securing the rudder handle with a loop of rope and taking a drink from the waterskin stowed beneath his seat, he rose to his feet and walked across the deck, stretching his legs. His tunic was uncomfortably twisted and stuck to his body as if he had just come back from a swim in the ocean. He tried to peel it away from his skin and reposition it, but gave up after a while. He wished he could take it off altogether, but there were laws against that. Citizens of the Orudan Empire were not allowed to be seen wearing only a loincloth. Such dress was only appropriate for slaves, who must not feel a sense of camaraderie with their masters, even in something as seemingly insignificant as clothing.

…although, it would be much more comfortable, especially in this warm, humid air.

He meandered across the deck, walking around crates of fruit and olives, until he found himself standing at the bow of the ship. The fog was starting to thin.

Bahari sat down on a wooden crate and watched the water as it passed by in small ripples. Immediately, his thoughts drifted toward his financial troubles. The growing season had been rough this year, and it meant that he wouldn’t be able to pay his debts unless he traveled to Nucotu, where he could get more money for his cargo, and bring back some valuable items on the return trip. But the return trip had been grueling so far—two straight days without sleep.

That’s the problem with this line of work—too much time to think and worry. Maybe I’ll just have someone take over for me in the morning so I can get some sleep.

Over the next hour, the fog lifted completely and the moon began to carve out the texture of the ocean with its dull light. Bahari rose from his position at the bow and walked back toward the stern, trying to keep from staying in one place too long; the threat of sleep was still heavy on his mind. Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks. On the eastern horizon, a bank of low clouds was rolling away to the south, revealing nothing but ocean as far as the eye could see. There was no land in sight. He scanned the horizon, which was now clear for miles in every direction, but saw nothing. He started to panic as he retraced the night’s events in his mind.

And then it hit him. “I missed the turn!” he said out loud. As soon as the thought came to him, everything made sense. Just after midnight he should have reached a section of the coastline that jogged sharply to the east. But he missed it and must have kept heading south, all the while moving farther away from the coast. When he awoke in the fog and heard the crashing waves, it was the western side of the reef which paralleled the coastline.

Bahari glanced over the port side of the boat and searched the water for some sign of confirmation that he was right. It only took a few minutes before he could make out a sandbar reflecting the moonlight from shallow water, only fifty yards away on the port side. He slumped down into his chair and buried his face in his hands. He was going to have to turn around and sail back to the northern tip of the reef.

I’ve just lost a whole day of travel. I’m not going to make my deadline! How can I explain this to Quartus? He’s going to think…

Bahari’s thoughts trailed off as his eyes settled on something in the water to the south. A few hundred yards away, just off the starboard side of the bow was a void in the water that didn’t reflect the moonlight. At first he thought it might be a sandbar or a small island of rock, but after a few seconds it became clear that the void was moving toward him.

He stooped and pulled out a small wooden box from underneath his bench seat. It contained a looking glass that he had purchased a few years ago. Lifting it to his eye, he scanned the water and found that the object was a ship, roughly the same size as his own. It was shaped strangely with a high bow and low, wide sails. Though it was difficult to tell at this distance, Bahari’s ocean-going experience told him that is was moving much quicker than his own vessel.

But that doesn’t make sense. It’s heading almost straight into the wind.

It was obviously not an Orudan patrol, which Bahari could expect to encounter at regular intervals while sailing along the coast. This ship was bearing no flag or standard of any kind and—thanks to Bahari’s carelessness—they were nowhere near the coast. He stomped his foot on the deck.

“Wake up,” he yelled to the crew underneath.

There was no response.

He stomped again and repeated himself several times before he heard grumblings from his crew.

One of the men shouted a question in his native tongue.

“I’m turning the boat around. Get ready to row.”

He set down the looking glass and untied the rudder handle. Grabbing it with both hands, he set his feet in a wide stance and pulled with all his weight. The ship pitched slightly as it swung sluggishly to the starboard side. The sails began to droop and eventually went slack altogether as the ship came about to the north.

Bahari stomped on the deck once again. “Row as hard as you can…we’ve got pirates behind us!”

Sixteen long oars slid out of the boat from oval slots along each side of the hull, their blades landing with a splash in the water. The boat began to lurch forward like a wounded animal struggling to regain its footing. Bahari ran across the deck and began to take in the sails and secure them to the mast. He shot a quick glance behind and was startled by how much distance the other boat had already covered. He couldn’t understand how it could be moving so quickly into the wind. He hadn’t seen any oars, but even if they were rowing, it was impossible to move that fast.

He secured the last of the sails and took his place back at the rudder. He doubted that the other boat was actually a pirate ship. The Orud patrol had cleared these waters of pirates years ago, but he couldn’t think of anything better to say. And there was something menacing about the other ship that told him they were in danger.

All of a sudden, a scraping noise sounded from below and the boat began to lose speed. Bahari could hear the murmur of confusion from his crew as their rowing efforts were being hindered. He leaned on the rudder to move the ship away from the reef and instantly the scraping stopped. For a few minutes, the only sounds above the silence were the voices of his crew rowing in unison, bringing the ship back up to top speed. Bahari looked back and watched in amazement as the pursuing ship turned back toward their starboard side, cutting through the water with full sails.

Abruptly, a crunch reverberated through the hull and the ship ground to a halt on the reef, pitching slightly to the port side. Bahari was thrown forward, landing awkwardly on the deck. He quickly grabbed the nearest crate and pulled himself back to his feet. The confused crew came up from below, cursing in their native language, wondering what was happening. But Bahari wasn’t paying them any attention; he was staring with dismay at the silent form of their pursuer, which had already closed the distance and was heading straight for their stranded boat. Within a few seconds it became clear that the menacing ship wasn’t going to stop.

“Grab on to something,” he yelled, but before they were able to, the boat shuddered and rolled sharply to the starboard side, throwing everyone to the deck. The impact came sooner than Bahari expected and his confusion only worsened when he regained his footing and got his first good look at the other ship. He stared at a serpent’s head carved into the high prow only a few feet away from the port side of Bahari’s ship. The boat was a strange sight to behold; its mast and mainsail sat at a backward angle to the deck. The ship was completely black, including the sails and ropes. There was movement on deck, but the crew of the enemy boat was dressed in black as well, appearing as shifting shadows. The moonlight was insufficient for Bahari to see what the men were doing, but it took only a few seconds before grappling hooks came whistling over the railing to bite into the wooden deck. Bahari fought back the fear in his chest to voice his outrage at this attack.

“What is the meaning of this?” he shouted into the night, but his question went unanswered. “How dare you attack a citizen of the Empire!”

“Stay where you are or you will be shot.” The clear, low voice was commanding, leaving the impression that its owner was used to being obeyed. The sound of running footsteps was followed shortly by a line of archers assembling along the starboard side of the enemy ship. Two men slid a plank across the short distance between the two boats, and the man who gave the order stepped from the shadows into the moonlight.

He was almost a full head taller than Bahari and emitted intimidation that was even visible in the body language of the men around him. Just like the other soldiers, the Commander was dressed completely in black. His long-sleeved tunic fell just above his thighs and was gathered at the waist by a leather belt which held a short sword at his left side. He wore black trousers that fell to his calves and boots that laced up his legs, just above the ankle. His chest was covered by a cuirass of boiled leather, with a cloak fastened at his shoulders and falling to the back of his legs. His manner of dress was strange to Bahari, whose only point of military reference was the Orudan soldiers in Bastul. These men were definitely not Orudan soldiers.

Bahari looked over his shoulder and noticed that his crew had assembled in a huddled mass behind him, possibly expecting some measure of protection. He knew he was inadequate to protect them, but turned to give them the only thing he could—a word of encouragement. Before he was able to open his mouth, one of his men bolted across the ship, heading for the railing. He only made it a few steps before he pitched forward and fell to the deck with multiple arrows sprouting from his back.

“I will not tell you again,” the Commander shouted.

Bahari turned back and watched as the Commander strode arrogantly across the plank, dropping onto the deck with a short hop. Six other soldiers followed him, dressed similarly, but wearing leather helmets and lacking cloaks. Their swords gleamed with reflected moonlight.

“Who is in charge here?” the Commander asked.

“I am,” Bahari answered timidly. He made no effort to conceal himself, realizing that he was the only one on the ship who wasn’t a dark-skinned slave.

The Commander walked over to Bahari. “Wrong,” he stated and grabbed him by the throat, pulling him close so that their faces were almost touching. “I am in charge.” He glanced over Bahari’s shoulder at the frightened crew. “Guard them,” he shouted.

Immediately, the soldiers surrounded the slaves.

The Commander pulled Bahari a few steps away from the commotion. “What are you doing in these waters?” he asked in a suddenly calm voice.

“I…uh,” Bahari stammered for a few seconds, trying to remember what he was doing out here. “I am a merchant. I am delivering a shipment to Bastul from Nucotu.”

The Commander eyed him suspiciously for a while before deciding that his story was true. Then a smile slowly crept across his face. “Well, isn’t that unfortunate. You took a wrong turn and now it has cost all of you your lives.” Still holding Bahari by the throat, he turned to the men guarding Bahari’s crew. “Kill them,” he commanded.

Bahari began to struggle, but the Commander’s grip only tightened until it threatened to crush his windpipe. He could only watch helplessly as the soldiers began to hack their swords into the huddled group of slaves. One by one they began to drop to the deck, slipping on their own blood. One managed to break free of the soldiers and started to run, only to receive a slashing sword across his back. His feet immediately lost strength and he crumpled forward onto the deck.

Rage flooded Bahari’s mind, overpowering his fear. He lashed out at the Commander, punching his clenched fist toward the man’s face. The Commander reflexively flinched and Bahari’s knuckles glanced off the bottom of his chin and struck his throat with a hollow crunch.

Instantly, the grip on Bahari’s neck loosened and he was free from his captor.

The Commander stumbled back, grabbing his throat and fighting for breath.

Bahari saw his opportunity and took it. He lunged at the Commander, dropping his shoulder, and slammed into the tall man’s chest, driving him to the deck.

Panic seized Bahari’s mind and he started running, without a purpose other than to get away from this madness. He saw the opening in the deck near the bow that led down to crew’s quarters and altered his course slightly, heading for the door. As he ran, he felt a quick puff of air from a passing arrow brush across the bridge of his nose. Somewhere to his left, he heard the dull thud of another bolt as it struck the deck. The doorway was now only a few steps away and Bahari jumped, headfirst, toward the concealing darkness. Suddenly, his left leg exploded with pain. He pulled his hands toward his face and tightened his body into a ball to prepare for the impact. His jump was a little short and he landed painfully on his left shoulder at the top step, tumbling down the short flight of stairs.

Fighting the pain, Bahari rose out of the shallow water that had filled the lower level of the boat. Surging through the knee-deep flood, he hurried toward the stern of the ship where his quarters were located. Making his way around several crates that had worked loose of their ropes, he passed a section of the port hull where water gushed into the ship through a puncture wound left by a serpent-headed battering ram. Bahari stumbled on without slowing, realizing in an instant why the enemy ship was able to stop short of crashing into his freighter.

The sound of pursuing footsteps could be heard above him, moving in the direction of the stairs at the bow. Bahari reached the stern and stepped into his room, bolting the door shut for the first time that he could remember. Now that he was momentarily safe, Bahari reached down to the back of his left thigh and felt the shaft of an arrow protruding from his leg. He pulled gently, but stopped as waves of pain raced up his leg, making him feel suddenly nauseous.

All of a sudden, something crashed into the door and it bowed slightly inward. Outside the door, he could hear the voices of his pursuers who had found his hiding place. He quickly looked around for a weapon to defend himself, but instead noticed the porthole above his bed. It was just large enough to squeeze through, but he knew the arrow sticking out from his leg would cause a problem.

Again, a crash sounded at the door and the thick wood flexed, threatening to break but for the strength of the iron hinges bolted across its planks.

They’ll break it eventually!

Bahari grabbed the shaft of the arrow as close to his leg as he dared touch, and broke it with a quick snap of the wrist. The feathered part of the arrow came off in his hand, leaving the rest of the shaft and the arrowhead in his leg. The sharp pain made his stomach turn.

Now there was shouting outside the door, followed by another loud crash.

Bahari tried to ignore the pain in his leg as he climbed onto his bed and leaned on the wall for balance. The porthole was now at eye-level and he pushed it open, catching a brief glimpse of the moonlight reflected on the ocean.

He gripped the sill of the porthole with both hands and jumped, relying mostly on the strength of his right leg, while pulling with his arms. Squeezing his upper body through the hole proved more difficult than he thought it would be. With the water in sight, he no longer thought about the men behind him. He simply leaned forward and let gravity pull the rest of his body out of the porthole.

It was a short fall into the water below, the world becoming suddenly silent. For a moment Bahari felt a small measure of peace. But it didn’t last long as his need for air drove him back to the surface. Once more, his ears were assaulted by the sound of yelling and more running footsteps, which he hoped would conceal his escape.

Quietly, he moved to the hull of his ship to keep from being seen from above. His leg was throbbing now.

I have to think quickly. I have to hide…but where?

Treading water was getting difficult with his leg wound and he knew he couldn’t keep it up for long.

Where can I hide that they won’t look for me?

Then it came to him. On their boat! He knew it wasn’t possible to board their ship without getting caught, but maybe he could hide along the hull.

He tried to calm his breathing, then sucked in a big gulp of air, diving beneath the surface. He kicked his one good leg and clawed with his hands along the underside of his boat. The sounds of the soldiers above were muffled and echoing as if he were listening from far away. He felt safer down here, detached from the horrible things that took place above him. When he reached the keel, he pushed off and swam with all of his might for the other boat. It took longer than he expected and he was out of breath by the time he reached it.

He knew that he couldn’t surface between the boats without getting caught, so he dove deeper, trying to fight the panic of drowning as he struggled to get underneath the enemy boat. To his surprise, the hull of the ship was shallow and he soon found himself on the other side, heading for the surface. His lungs were burning now and he had to fight the urge to open his mouth and breathe in the water around him. Just as quickly as the thought came to him, his head broke free of the water on the port side of the enemy ship and he gasped for air as silently as he could.

Though still vulnerable, he was farther away from the commotion now and used the opportunity to search along the ship for somewhere to hide. The hull was completely smooth, just as he expected it to be, and he was unable to find a handhold. He made his way cautiously to the stern and found, to his relief, an alcove where the anchor was suspended from a chain that exited the hull of the ship. Bahari swam underneath the anchor, into the shadows of the alcove and gripped the anchor with both hands.

The passing seconds seemed like hours to him as he hung in the water, holding the rusting metal. Occasionally, scraps of coherent sentences floated to him from above deck.

“…leave him there. He’ll go down with the ship!”

Bahari hoped that the men outside the door to his room had given up on their chase. As long as they were unable to get into the room, they would think that he remained there for the safety that it offered. If they got into the room they would see the open window and know that he was outside the ship. Within a few minutes, he could hear the sound of marching footsteps getting louder as the soldiers left his boat and boarded their own.

The sky was beginning to lighten in the east, which was the only direction that Bahari could see past the anchor and the confines of the alcove. With miles of ocean surrounding him on every side, he started to wonder what he was going to do if the enemy stopped looking for him. Without warning, the ship lurched backwards, putting an end to his wondering as he struggled to hold on to the anchor. Then he heard the voices of men yelling in unison and the ship lurched again. He counted five such motions, accompanied by a shuddering vibration that moved through the hull of the ship each time. On the last attempt, they pulled the battering ram free of Bahari’s ship, allowing the weight of the water inside the hull to drag it down the side of the reef. As the enemy ship turned back to the south, Bahari watched from his hiding spot as his cargo ship rolled to the port side and slipped beneath the surface. Everything he had worked for, everything that made his way of life possible came to an end in that moment. Within minutes, the boat was gone, with only an area of bubbles and floating debris to show where it had been.

Despair threatened to overtake him, but he fought it off, realizing the urgency of his situation. What am I going to do now? I can’t hang on to this anchor forever. Even now, the jagged, rusted metal was biting into his hands. Even if he could hold on, he would be in greater danger once the ship reached its port. No, I’ve got to get free of this boat without them seeing me! Suddenly, the ship began to turn around and as they came back to the sight of the attack, Bahari realized that they were looking for survivors.

Isn’t it enough that you attacked us and sank my ship? Is it really necessary to make sure that we’re all dead? Pirates would be satisfied with looting and sinking the ship. As soon as the thought came to his mind, Bahari was faced with the obvious conclusion. These were not pirates.

Who are these people? What are they doing out here? Are they looking for something, protecting something, hiding from something? It is an outrage that a citizen of the Empire would be attacked like this!

As they passed the attack area once more, Bahari hoped to come in contact with some debris that he could hide behind, but the ship stayed just barely out of the wreck area. Then as they moved further to the south, he noticed a barrel floating a few yards away. The sky was still mostly dark, offering a small measure of concealment and he knew that the opportunity would not present itself again. So, taking a deep breath, Bahari ducked under the water and pushed off of the boat. The saltwater stung his eyes and it was too dark to make out the barrel. He continued to kick his good leg and paddle with one arm while the other was outstretched, feeling for the barrel. At first, he thought that he had passed it and started to panic, knowing that he couldn’t go to the surface to look. But then his hand touched something firm. Swimming underneath it, he surfaced, taking caution to keep the floating barrel between him and the enemy ship. He waited, for what seemed like an eternity, before risking a peek from behind the barrel. When he did, he saw that the ship was only a dark silhouette on the brightening horizon. For the first time since the attack began, Bahari breathed a sigh of relief.

He floated in the water for a moment, clinging to the barrel, trying to come to grips with what had just happened. His most immediate threat was now sailing to the south, but in many ways, his current situation was worse. Now what do I do? I’m floating in the middle of the ocean and I don’t even know where I am or how to get to land! He shook his head to clear his mind.

He had been heading south along the coast from Nucotu when he missed the turn and ended up on the west side of the reef. As close as he could figure, he was still well north of the halfway point between the two cities and many miles west of the shore. With a dangerous reef in between! He would have several days’ journey before he could reach the shore. That’s if the tides don’t carry me past the southern tip! For that amount of time, he would need food and water.

Then, as the sky continued to lighten in the east, a smile formed on Bahari’s face. All around him, scattered in the dawn light, were crates of fruit drifting away from the sight of the attack. If the gods are merciful, I should reach land within a few days. And then the Governor will know about this!

Copyright 2008-2010 by Jason Tesar

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Chapter 3 >>