Ocean Of Fear (Book 6) (3 page)

The captain withdrew to the sterncastle, wrapped himself in his cloak and took a seat in the great wooden chair beside the steersman’s wheel. As Kormak watched, Terves brought him a cup of hot wine.

Kormak put his back against the guard-rail and closed his eyes. The day had given him much to think about and it was time to take his rest.

A scream rang out through the night. Kormak woke to the sound of thrashing on the deck and a horrible crunching noise. He rose to his feet. A massive form moved nearby, scales catching the lantern light. A screaming man’s head protruded from a mound of what looked like cables. A cracking sound told of the man’s ribs being broken.

A ghost snake, Kormak thought, one of the great forest constrictors. It must have dropped from the trees above and enveloped the struggling marine. Other soldiers dithered around the enwrapped man. They ran to and fro, panicked, not realising what was happening, fearing that a demon had emerged from the forest to claim their souls.

Kormak sprang to his feet. His blade slid from the scabbard. He aimed just below the reflected glitter of the lantern light in the creature’s eyes, hoping to sever its head. At the last moment, as if sensing its danger, the snake unwound from around its prey. The dwarf-forged blade slid through the great coils of muscle in its lower body.

The creature hissed and thrashed in agony. Its muscular length hit one of the hanging lanterns, knocking it from its post. The lantern crashed to the deck, spilling oil and then igniting it. A stream of flame flowed across the deck, giving sudden flickering illumination to the scene.

Men shrieked when they saw the gigantic serpent and the flopping corpse of its victim revealed in the firelight. They threw themselves away from the monster. Some dived into the water.

Sailors bellowed with fear of another sort, the age-old terror of unleashed fire that every nautical man dreaded. The ship’s decks and ropes were caulked with tar. Sailors kept their pigtails in place with it. The pitchy stuff burned all too easily.

The monster twisted to face Kormak, long neck rising out of a mound of coils. Its head swayed from side to side. Its forked tongue flickered as if tasting the air. The snake’s upper body reached to almost twice Kormak’s height. Stretched out, the thing might be half as long as the ship.

Zamara yelled from the command deck and the sailors responded to the authority of his voice. A man picked up a bucket of water and rushed towards the flames, tossing the contents into their midst, causing them to sputter and steam. Other sailors held back, afraid of the great beast.

A black feathered crossbow bolt thunked into the deck near Kormak and stood there quivering. Another ripped the night air over his shoulder. Panicked crossbowmen fired at the snake.

A couple of bolts quivered in the coils of the scaly horror. The ghost snake struck, head arcing down towards Kormak. Ignoring the bolts all around him, he lashed out with his blade, severing the creature’s head. Cold blood fountained, splashing the furled sails. Coils exploded outwards and ripped through the air like a gigantic whip, knocking men flying, smashing into more lanterns, creating mayhem and chaos.

More oil splashed everywhere. The flames spread. Men kept firing their crossbows at the serpent, unaware that the thing was dead. Some of them hit their target in the tricky light. Others hit their companions.

Zamara still shouted orders, striding forward himself with a bucket of water and splashing it into the flames. A big bosun leapt in and started beating on the fire with a sailcloth.

As the snake ceased to writhe, the soldiers and crew fought down their panic and began to bring the fire under control. In the moonlight shining through the trees, Kormak caught sight of shadowy figures watching them from the undergrowth. They withdrew into the darkness, as if aware they had been spotted and unwilling to be seen.

“It was most likely pure chance,” said Kormak, glancing at the forest. “The snake was disturbed by our passage, dropped onto the deck and killed the sailor by pure instinct.”

Frater Jonas looked out over the guard-rail into the gloom under the trees. “They say the elves of the forest can control its beasts.”

There was still a smell of burning in the air even though all the fires had been put out. Wounded men lay stretched out on blood-stained blankets, groaning despite the grog they had drunk to dull the pain. No one wanted to sleep. Everyone looked nervous.

“You think they put the snake up to attacking us?” Kormak said.

“They were out there, watching, I saw them. The elves have no reason to love men and many reasons to hate us.”

“If they wanted us dead, they could have attacked from the riverbank while we were distracted by the fire and the serpent. Elves are deadly shots.”

Jonas nodded. “It is not the only possibility. Perhaps the Kraken too can control such beasts. There are spells that would let him do it.”

“How would he even know we are here? He does not know we are hunting him?”

The priest tilted his head to one side like a bird considering a worm. “There are spells of divination that could reveal our presence. And those are not the only methods of finding things out. Many folk in Siderea sell secrets for a share of pirate spoils. It is possible that our prey is forewarned of our presence.”

Kormak’s own instincts were also to think the worst in situations like this. “We had best be prepared for more attacks.”

“I have mentioned the possibility to our captain. He may not like me but he understands reason when it is presented to him.”

The priest stood silent for a moment, glanced at the wounded. “I do not like this place,” he said. “I do not like being here. I do not like the sense that something terrible could happen at any moment.”

“It’s not like being back in the palace, is it?” Kormak said.

The priest laughed. “On the contrary, it is very similar. Both are treacherous environments, full of danger.”

Kormak found himself smiling. Frater Jonas kept talking. His voice was quiet and reflective. “I grew up in a small village on the great plateau. My parents kept a wine shop and their own small fields. It was too cold in winter, too hot in summer but I loved the place. Life was simple. I sometimes wish I had stayed there.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I was good with my letters, quick, sharp - the local priest saw possibilities in me. I was sent to one of the Order of the Sun’s schools. I was educated, trained, dispatched on the Order’s business, eventually I found my way to court. Your own life must have been very similar.”

“Yes,” Kormak said. He was wary. He had known other men who exchanged small confidences in the hopes of gaining larger ones. The priest looked thoughtful and sincere, but there were many who had that gift. If Jonas noticed his sudden reticence he gave no sign.

“An Aquilean in the Order of the Dawn—I thought you hill-men were all heathens.”

Kormak very much doubted that. Jonas was an educated man. He was also no doubt familiar with the technique of saying something provocative just to get a response. “Some are believers. Some are not.”

“Much the same as anywhere else then,” said Jonas. “How did you come to join your Order?”

The question hung there in the air. Kormak considered for a moment and said, “My village was wiped out by an Old One when I was a child. I was the only survivor. The Guardian hunting the killer took me back to Mount Aethelas.”

Frater Jonas looked a little embarrassed. “I am sorry. I was merely curious.”

“It was all a long time ago.”

“Did the Guardian ever catch the Old One?”

“No. The creature is still out there. He said he would come back for me one day. He has done such things before.”

“Is that why the Order trained you?”

“Perhaps. Or perhaps they simply saw the potential in me, as your Order saw the potential in you.”

 
“I have heard it said you are the greatest swordsman of this age of the world.”

“I have known better.”

“And yet you are still here.”

“I did not say I fought them.”

The priest laughed. “Then you are clever as well as good with a blade.”

“It is a prerequisite for my work. Yours too, I suspect.”

“Has the captain been telling you I am a spy?”

“Yes.”

“He’s not wrong.”

“I am surprised you admit it.”

“You already know it to be true. There is little point in denying it.”

“So why are you here?”

The priest remained silent for a long time. He seemed to be considering his words very carefully or perhaps debating whether he should speak at all. “The Kraken is a most unusual man.”

“How so?”

“You were right earlier. Most sorcerers don’t become pirates—they prefer less active lives.”

“Some have almost taken my head off with a blade.”

Father Jonas shrugged. “He leads ships against our treasure fleets, against our merchants, against our colonies.”

“Our?”

“Siderea’s. King-Emperor Aemon’s.”

“He has a dislike for Sidereans.”

“Indeed. And for our king in particular.”

There was a stillness in the priest’s manner now. He was watching Kormak very carefully. “A personal resentment?”

Jonas glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was within earshot. “You could say that—he’s King Aemon’s brother.”

“You’re telling me Prince Taran has a secret life as a bloodthirsty pirate?”

“No. Prince Taran is, as he always has been, the king’s strong right arm. The Kraken is more in the nature of a half-brother.”

“I see.”

“In his youth the last king, Varlan, Aemon’s father, at that time Prince Varlan, had a brief, unfortunate affair with a woman from the Pirate Islands. Her name was Naomi. She was lovely, enchantingly lovely -
too
enchantingly lovely, it turned out. The prince was mad for her and some suspected it was because of more than her beauty. She was a sorceress and she was with child by the soon-to-be king. Varlan was already engaged to Lady Elanor who was and is a most jealous woman. Assassins were sent to slay Naomi and remove a potential embarrassment but they met a horrible death. The inquisition sought her out, but she vanished. No one thought any more of it and for a long time there was no need to, then the Kraken appeared in Port Blood. He claimed to be the rightful ruler of Siderea. It turned out his mother’s name was Naomi. By all accounts he could be the twin of our king.”

“It takes more than the royal blood to become king. The nobles must be behind you. You need an army. You need wealth.”

“You know that. I know that. A madman raised by a resentful, ambitious witch might not or might not care. Particularly not a madman with a considerable gift for sorcery. It runs in the royal blood-line you know.”

“The blood of Emperors,” Kormak said. The kings of Siderea claimed descent from the ancient Solari mage-kings.

“Indeed,” said Jonas.

“A wizard who is fighting his own private war with the Siderean crown... that’s not something I have encountered before.”

“Life is full of little surprises, isn’t it? That’s what keeps it interesting.”

“You’ve tried to have him killed, of course.”

The priest looked rueful. “Of course. Assassins have no more luck against him than against his mother.”

“Why does he risk himself on these raids when he must know your king seeks his death?”

“He is overconfident, or perhaps merely justifiably confident, who am I to say? And he is looking for something.”

Kormak sensed the tension in the priest. They were coming to the crux of the matter. “How do you know?”

“The ships he attacked, the places he raided, the mansions he burned, all had something in common. The ships were carrying artefacts from the Sunken Kingdoms. The mansions belonged to collectors of such artefacts, or held the libraries of scholars who specialised in such things.”

“What kind of artefacts?”

“All of them were connected with the Quan.” His voice was barely a whisper. Sailors still feared the Quan. They were mentioned in horrific legends in every port in the world.

“The servants of Dhagoth? The sea demons? ”

“The same.” Kormak considered this. The Old One Dhagoth had ruled large sections of the ocean when the world was young. He had been a rival of Saa-Aquor, the patron of merfolk. The Quan were deep sea dwellers. They had been mighty sorcerers, soul eaters. They were thought extinct, vanished along with their master during the wars of the Age of Darkness, leaving only legends that still terrified strong men. He doubted anyone collected their relics with a good purpose in mind.

“The Merchant’s Guild did not hire me, did it?”

Frater Jonas shook his head. “The donation to your Order was made in their name but ultimately the money comes from the royal purse.”

“The merchants are loyal supporters of the crown.”

“Precisely so.”

“You waited a long time to tell me this.”

“I’ve told you now. When you needed to know it.”

“And when there’s not much chance of me being able to tell anybody else.”

“Your understanding of the situation is very sound. And I trust I have no need to add that everything I have told you is considered a state secret and that you should keep it in strictest confidence.”

“King Aemon really wants the Kraken dead, doesn’t he?”

“It’s why you are here.”

“I am not sure I like being used as an assassin.”

“You’ve done it before. And if you do it this time, you won’t find the King-Emperor ungrateful. Like all kings Aemon is wary of rivals, particularly ones who are potent mages. The man who rids him of this one could expect a considerable display of gratitude.”

“Which is why
you
are here. To make sure everything goes smoothly, to report back on what happens.”

The priest opened his hands. “I am merely a servant of my Order.”

“One who may end up with a palace of his own.” Kormak considered for a moment. “Or head of his Order with the king’s support.”

“If the Holy Sun provides such a thing, I would be an ingrate to turn it down.” They stood together in silence while Kormak considered his words.