The Coastal Kingdoms of Olvion: Book Two of The Chronicles of Olvion (20 page)

“Here, hide this.  Don’t show it or use it unless it becomes absolutely necessary.”

Kal concealed the weapon in his back waistband.  Fauwler then started to lead him to the ladder when the light from their glow bulb revealed Bonn, the oversized first mate standing at the bottom.

“Captain Fauwler,” he said with a knowing smile.  “Come to free a prisoner, did you?”

Fauwler acted as if he were not at all upset by the presence of Tallun’s devoted crewman.

“I am doing exactly that.  Several of the captains have decided that they have objections to the new rules of the Captain’s Council.  We will not be slavers, and we are pulling out with our men and ships.  I am taking this prisoner since it serves no purpose to have him die here.”

Bonn had been hiding his right hand behind his thigh.  He pulled it out now and Fauwler was not surprised to see that it held a short broad-bladed sword.  “With you being a Council Captain and all, it is my duty to give you whatever assistance you ask for.  That is exactly what I aim to do just as soon as Captain Tallun shows up and tells me to.”

Fauwler nodded and turned back to look at Kal.  “I’m afraid he’s right.  Tallun will need to…”  He never finished his sentence.  Instead he leapt toward Bonn and slashed his sword arm with his knife.  The weapon fell, and Fauwler swept up around and behind him hooking one arm around the big man’s throat and the other pinning his bleeding arm uselessly to his side.  The captain did not have to say anything more.  Kal, having nothing to lose now, rushed forward and plunged the knife into Bonn’s chest.  The first mate’s shock was obvious in his eyes.  He tried to call out for help, but the pressure on his throat was too strong.  He tried to kick at the freed prisoner but Kal had moved out of his way. He stared hard at Kal until his eyes glazed over and his breathing stopped.

Fauwler let the body slide down.  Then he dragged it over to where the water was deepest in the bilge and submerged it, weighting it down quickly with ballast rocks.  He turned back to Kal.

“I find killing in that manner to be dishonorable, but we were left with no choice.  When we get topside act as if you are too feeble to speak.  There are only two of the crew on duty that I saw.  If we must act then do so swiftly, and go for the throat so they can’t raise an alarm.  Quickly now.”

The two men climbed as silently as they could until they emerged onto the open deck.  There was only one man at the rail when they got there.  He questioned them about the prisoner being released.  Fauwler told him that the action had been approved by Captain Tallun and that Bonn, himself, had assisted in getting Kal ready.  Fauwler knew that it was this man and the other from the watch who had alerted the First Mate to his presence.  The crewman considered his words then accepted them.  He was aware that Bonn had gone below to check out what was happening.  If Bonn had no objections he certainly was not going to question a Council Captain.  He stood aside as Kal made his way down the rope ladder with painful slowness.  Fauwler was very much afraid that the other crewman was looking for Bonn and would soon come running topside shouting the alarm.

Kal finally got low enough on the ladder that Fauwler’s men could reach up to help him.  Fauwler then swiftly descended the swinging ladder.

“Push off, now.  Take us to the Dreadnaught,” he whispered quietly.

When they arrived at Fauwler’s flagship he dispatched four boats to return to shore and find the nineteen other captains of his fleet.  They were to be given orders to return quietly to their ships and to make for sea under half sail.  All of his men were loyal and had previously been given map coordinates for an emergency rendezvous in open sea.

Fauwler knew that roughly half of Kal’s crew, including Captain Gann, were being quartered on his ships.  He would have liked to be able to save the rest, but it would take an effort that his small fleet was not able to mount.  In a happy coincidence Captain Gann had been transferred to the Dreadnaught only three days prior so at least the engineer and his friend would have each other’s company.  Fauwler helped Kal to the deck of his flagship and put him in Gann’s care. 

When the boats returned after delivering the captains to their ships Fauwler had his mate send a message via light box to the flagships of the other three captains who had walked out of the meeting earlier that night.  He apprised them of the assassination attempt and advised them to leave the harbor.  He gave them another set of coordinates and said he would meet with them at sea in a tenday’s time to explore their options.  With Lampte in charge of Kylee there was no guarantee that they wouldn’t be hanged if they returned there.  He had no doubt that one of Tallun’s ships would be dispatched there at first light.

Fauwler took a long last look at the dimly lit shoreline.  He felt that he had been on the wrong side for some time now.  As he gazed at the beautiful display of bright stars above him he felt a desire to atone for some of his past deeds.  He wished he somehow could aid the people of the town.  It was something to think about.

***

Dwan stood on the defense walkway of the stronghold and looked out over the city and the wharf.  The moons were only at quarter crescent and there was a heavy cloud cover.  Except for the occasional glow bulb strung along the wharf the city was dark.  Out in the harbor sounds could be heard; splashing, shouts.  She could already make out several ships maneuvering to clear the harbor and make for the calm open sea.  The light breeze was aiding them in their efforts.  Dwan was surprised to see so many of them leaving, especially in the dead of night, but she really did not know enough about ships or pirates to be able to judge what was normal and what was not.

She continued to observe the running lanterns on the ships while as many as fifty of them took to the sea.  Her heart lifted, albeit cautiously, as she thought it must be the end of the siege.  It might all finally be over.  The pirates, having pillaged everything of importance from the city and the surrounding countryside, were quite possibly taking their prizes and going home.  Even though it was very late, there were others lining the wall with her.  News always travels fast in war.

As she stood there taking in the clean air from the sea she wondered for the hundredth time that day about her husband.  Where was he, what was he doing, would he ever come back?  And, suddenly, there were shouts from the city.  Glow bulbs were being uncovered and torches were being lit.  Dwan saw pirates running from the appropriated homes and shops into the street and peering out toward the sea.  They were in various stages of dress.  A few of the men, obviously ones who were in charge, were pointing and shouting orders.  Even from her distant perch she could make out some salty curses.

“It would appear that there is a measure of discord at play among our enemies.”

Dwan turned to see Jo-Dal standing beside her.  He was in partial uniform, obviously having been roused by the watch to observe the carryings on below.  His hair was in a state of disarray, and his uniform blouse was only partially buttoned.

“Yes,” she replied.  “I’ve been watching ships leaving the harbor for some time now.  Do you think the siege is being lifted?”

He watched for a long moment before answering.  “No.  If that were the case they would never chance maneuvering the harbor at night.  No, I think this has all of the indications of problems within their ranks.  However, it can only be to our benefit that so many ships have left.”

Dwan was aware that he had taken a step closer to her.  She caught herself looking at his profile.  He was a handsome man, there was no doubt about that.  For the first time, she allowed herself to consider what she would do if Tag never returned.  Would she avoid other men for the rest of her life and die old and unhappy with a heart forever broken?  And, if not, if she accepted that he was forever gone, how long should she wait before opening her heart again?  Just as she was exploring those questions, she felt…something. 

It was like a tiny moth fluttering its wings within her head.  She involuntarily put a hand to her forehead.  She had been looking out to sea, and now her vision began to blur and go fuzzy.  Her field of vision actually started to dissolve into a circle which shrank steadily.  She started to panic and ask Jo-Dal for help when she recognized the sensation for what it was.  She’d experienced this before.  It was like when Tinker had communicated to her and Tag together using her unique method of projected images and emotions.  She forced herself to relax, and opened her mind, willing it to be receptive.

First the sea and the harbor went away.  Then for a brief moment there was only a grey fuzziness.  Then there was a brightening and a focusing and then…there was Tinker.  Even in the midst of her light trance Dwan’s heart lifted.  The vision of Tinker was from behind her and she was climbing over a rocky hill.  She was leaping from one rugged point to another.  She seemed happy, Dwan had been around her long enough to recognize the signs, the way she wiggled her whiskers, and flicked her ears.

Then the vision revealed Tinker reaching a point on the rocky cliff where she was looking downward at something below.  She was excited at something she saw, she was chirping and hopping up and down.  The viewpoint of the vision grew nearer.  It came right up alongside of her.  Dwan thought that odd because in the other few instances in which Tinker had communicated with her the projected images had always been from Tinker’s own point of view. As soon as that thought occurred it was forgotten because the vision was now overlooking Tinker’s head and down into the same wide valley road below.  With a quickening pulse Dwan was able to identify it as the Lion’s Road, the only direct route from Olvion to the coast of the great sea called Panoply.  Dwan searched the scene below and was able to see a large grouping of people.  No, not just people, Warriors.  She watched as the image became clearer and closer.  Dwan saw that the warriors were mostly asleep under blankets and pelts.  She felt a mild realization that the military party was probably on their way to render aid to Aspell.  Then her eyes saw two men walking between the campfires.  One appeared to be a typical warrior, walking with a warrior’s strut…but… the other man. 

Her breath caught in her throat.  He was large, unusually large.  One would almost refer to him as a giant of a man.  The other warrior’s head came no higher than the other’s chest.  She strained, willing her mind to see more detail.  He walked with a familiar athleticism, arms dangling from a wide set of shoulders.  She would have recognized that walk anywhere.  Now they were stopped in front of a fire, and she saw the outlines of his face as he turned to converse with his companion.

Then the image collapsed.

Dwan fell forward onto the lip of the wall.  Jo-Dal reacted with a warrior’s reflexes, wrapping an arm around her waist and steadying her.

“Dwan!  Dwan are you ill?” he asked.

She regained her composure quickly.  Her vision cleared, and once again she saw the lights on the ships in the harbor and smelled the brine of the sea air.

“No, Jo-Dal.  I am better than I have been in two seasons.  I believe that Aspell will soon be better also.

It had taken two days, but the pirates finally sent out a party to check on the group that Lyyl and his team had ambushed.  Lyyl had been aware of their approach since early morning.  He had concealed observers along every possible approach to the crossroad, and the flashes from the signal mirrors had shown him the routes the pirates were taking.  He hid now in the underbrush alongside the road.  He had chosen the location purposely and then asked his team of twenty why he had done so.  After a brief period of embarrassed silence, Tay pointed to the road.

“They will be coming from the brightness of the sun into the dense shadows of those overhanging trees.  For a small time they will almost be blind.”

Lyyl had been proud of her.  He’d learned a little more about her in the two days since the ambush, the night in which she had saved his life.  She had been a wood worker in her father’s shop.  She’d always aspired to be a warrior, but her father was ill, and she was needed to help earn enough to take care of him.  He died shortly before the last battle of the Great War.  With her mother long since passed away, Tay had given the shop to an uncle and was accepted for training as a warrior.  Then the fateful last battle had loomed, and Tay, along with hundreds of other poorly-trained apprentices had been hastily put on wagons and shipped off to reinforce Olvion.  They had arrived almost too late, but their numbers were enough to rout the gruesome Grey Ones and turn the battle into a virtual slaughter.  Tay had ridden into battle in the bed of a wagon pulled by burdenbeasts.  She and five others had launched hundreds of arrows at their fleeing quarry until there simply were no more to target.  Only half of her group survived the battle with the other three having been dragged off of the wagon and killed. 

That experience probably made her the only warrior on Lyyl’s team, besides him, that actually had any close-quarters combat involvement.  He looked back at her now, almost invisible in the roadside foliage.  He had watched her whenever they were relieved.  When others would head for the bunks and pallets in the ranch huts, she would take her bow and quiver, and practice with it until exhaustion claimed her, and she would drag herself inside.  He had been so impressed that he’d put her in charge of the other five archers on his team.

The dust rising from the pirate’s feet showed him they would soon be within striking distance.  He and three other warriors, all male, were closest to the road.  The other three were armed with swords.  Lyyl carried a war hammer, a vicious instrument that had a shaft as long as a man’s forearm.  The head of the weapon was spiked on one end and blunt on the other.  In combat a fighter could not afford to have the spike lodge into a foe’s armor and refuse to be released.  So the blunt and heavy opposite end was used in the actual fighting and the spike was employed only when the killing stroke was called for.

The six pirates came closer.  They were not talking among themselves and seemed to be carefully looking about.  All were on foot.  Unlike the first group these all carried shields and were well armed with swords and battle axes.

When the group entered into the shade of the road Lyyl and his three team members sprang.  Lyyl was able to strike the knee of one, taking him down immediately.  One other of his group scored with a sword thrust to the side of another pirate who screamed but lashed out with his own sword.

Then the pirates did a most unusual thing.  They backed away from the four ambushers and formed a shield wall, all except for the man Lyyl had injured.  Then two of the pirates put strange instruments to their mouths and blew.  The noise that came from the strange horns was deafening. 

Then, Lyyl heard an answering call from the distance.  Around a corner in the dirt road came the clatter of hoof beats, and eight mounted men bore down on the combatants with dust flying out behind them.  The shield wall was preventing Lyyl’s men from inflicting any more damage to the first group of pirates.  They were now laughing and goading the warriors to attack.  Lyyl gave the signal and he, and his three ambushers started running in the opposite direction from the approaching men and charon.  The pirates who were on foot remained where they were as their mounted comrades thundered past them. 

Just before the group of mounted pirates overtook the fleeing warriors they entered into the stretch of densely shaded road.  The effect of having bright sunlight in their eyes and then being in shadow was just enough to keep the three riders in front from seeing the rope across the road.  At the last moment, two warriors concealed in the trees stretched it tight and wrapped it quickly around a stout trunk.

The resulting carnage of flying charon and human bodies was devastating.  The two riders at the rear of the group were the only ones able to stop their charon in time.  Those were dragged from their mounts by warriors and quickly dispatched.  Of the fallen charon riders two were dead, probably from broken necks, one cradled a broken arm, and the other three were struck down before they knew what had befallen them.  The pirate with the broken arm was sitting on his backside, rocking back and forth while crying. 

Farther up the road the five pirates who had been on foot watched in horror as their planned counter-ambush dissolved before their eyes.  Then a beautiful woman stepped out of the roadside foliage.  She held a drawn bow with a black arrow notched in it.

“Drop your weapons or die.  I won’t repeat myself.”

The pirates looked at each other, waiting for one of them to tell the others what to do.  The tallest of them tried to smile, showing blackened teeth with several gaps. 

“”Now look here…”

The sentence was never completed.  The gap-toothed pirate tried to raise his shield.  He was too slow.  So were his comrades.  One was able to run from the scene of the ambush.  Tay let him get several paces away then sent a shaft into his back.  He fell over on his face.

“Want me to make sure he’s dead?” one of her group asked.

“Don’t bother, he is.”

Tay and her archers walked up on Lyyl and the second ambush location.  They had been alerted by signals to the fact that there were two groups of invaders approaching, one of them mounted.  It did not take a genius to guess what was being planned.  Lyyl was kneeling by the pirate with the broken arm.  The man was almost delirious with fear and shaking like a cur in a snowstorm.

Lyyl was speaking with him while sipping from a jug of water. The warrior took another long sip.

“So, you say about sixty ships of your pirate friends left?  Why did they do that, and are they expected to return?”

The pirate’s chin quivered.  “That’s the truth, by the stars, Lord.  They were gaffed because Captain Tallun…he’s the captain that arranged this invasion…Captain Tallun told them that we…that they could take slaves now.  We’ve had rules against slave trading before, Lord.  Back where we come from the only ones what trade in slaves is the Nobles…Kings and such.”

“How many men have left with the ships?

“Don’t know ‘zactly, Lord, but say fifty, sixty men on each ship, how many is that?  I never learned figuring numbers.”

Lyyl stood.  He looked at the largest man in his team.  “Finish this up.  Get all of the information he has.”  He looked down at the squirming pirate.  “If he lies even once, cut his legs off.”

The injured pirate was too terrified to notice the wink of the warrior’s eye.

Lyyl caught Tay’s attention and beckoned with a head nod for her to follow him.  They walked back toward the original ambush site where the archers were dragging the bodies off of the road.  Once again they were being taken to ditches that had been pre-dug for their burial. 

“Are you going to kill him?” Tay asked.

He shielded his eyes with his hand as he studied the road.  The dust was settling down now, but the black flies were converging, drawn by the smell of death. 

“No.  We can handle one prisoner, but I wouldn’t be too careful about taking any future captives.  It is better for everyone concerned if they were to die in battle.  Killing a man or woman who is helpless and begging for their lives is a nasty business.  It saps the soul.”

Tay studied his face.  Sometimes he almost sounded like a philosopher.  She liked that about him.  She liked a lot about him.  “I have no experience about this sort of thing, but don’t you think that losing this second group will remove any questions they may have regarding the importance of this crossroad?  They will know now that both of their watch parties have been destroyed.  If I were commanding them I would make it a point to send a much stronger force out here next time.”

Lyyl dropped his hand and looked directly at her.  He smiled.  “Let’s hope they do.”

***

At the same time that the pirate force was being buried by Lyyl and his people, Tallun had gathered his crews and those of his most loyal followers at the road that led uphill to the main gate of the Aspell redoubt.  Having that approach be uphill had been absolutely necessary for the security of the structure.  If the approach were downhill it would allow gravity to assist in the application of a wheeled battering ram.  If it were a flat road leading to the gate it would make it infinitely easier to utilize animals to power any sort of breaching machine.

It was this steep uphill approach that had been frustrating all of Tallun’s efforts to achieve entry.  He had tried everything that he could think of, but every attempt had ended with a loss of men and a humiliating failure. 

Tallun’s first assault on the fort employed what he had thought to be a brilliant tactic.  He ordered dozens of ladders to be quickly fashioned and carried through the streets of the town just as the light was failing.  His plan was to let the defenders see the ladders and assume that they would be used to scale the walls after darkness fell.  The Aspellians would, no doubt, wait to see where the devices would be emplaced and marshal all of their forces to that spot to repel the expected attack.  He even planned to sacrifice a few of his less-valuable men to aid in the illusion. 

The linchpin of Tallun’s plan was the men with grapples whom he had hidden on the opposite side of the stronghold.  They were waiting for the opportunity to climb the walls unseen and get enough men inside to attack the gate mechanism.  The gates would fall, and Tallun would stroll in triumphantly after his men had taken their fair share of slaves and put the others to the sword.

Tallun did not hear the conversation between Tyner and Jo-Dal atop the redoubt.  Tyner’s vision had still not yet recovered to the point that he could make out details in dim light, but Jo-Dal described what was happening below them.

“Ladders you say?”

“Yes, Lord King,” Jo-Dal answered.  He opened his scope and took a long look.  He smiled.  He snapped the glass shut.  “The ladders are crudely made, and the rungs are barely secured using only twine.  Any fighter larger than a lad of ten summers would collapse the entire affair.”

Tyner immediately understood.  “Not precisely what one would expect to stand up to lines of fully armed men using them at the same time.”  The king grinned.  “Surely they don’t think us so dense.”

“Their commander appears to have great confidence in his own genius.”  The Commander of the Aspellian forces called over a Sub-Commander and gave him instructions.  The man nodded and beckoned for several others to follow. 

Tyner squinted in an attempt to see more clearly.  “Do you think they will be so dull in their thinking that the real attack will come from the exact opposite side?” he asked.

“We’ll know soon.”

A short time later the Sub-Commander returned and gave his report.  Pirates had been spotted lurking in the wooded areas in the exact opposite direction from where the ladders were being staged.  The sentries had even observed them to be carrying padded grapples.

Tyner looked at his young protégé.  “Do we shut this down the moment they move or do we allow as many on the wall as possible before taking action.  What say you?”

It was not a difficult decision for Jo-Dal.  “We use this to our advantage and kill as many of them as we can manage.  Maybe the blow to their morale will convince them to slink away like the diseased curs that they are.”

Tyner studied the face of his Sword.  “As a gentleman I have grave concerns about your mindset, Jo-Dal.  As a military man I could not be more proud.”

That was how it went down.  Tallun ordered his sacrificial lambs to carry the ladders to the stronghold and engage in a pretense of attempting to scale the wall.  The Aspellians took advantage of the opportunity to sink arrows into the bodies of as many of them as they could manage.

Then the pirates on the other side of the wall threw their grapples and managed to get thirty or so men over the edge before they were also attacked.  All but three of that group were skewered by the excellent archers in the redoubt.  Two of the ones who escaped that fate met one just as harsh by voluntarily leaping off of the wall to the rocks below.  The third pirate was desperately climbing down one of the ropes when it was cut.  The warrior who cut it waved ‘goodbye’ at the pirate before doing so.

No, there had not been a lot of successes against the stronghold in Tallun’s past, but he was optimistic of today’s chances.

Today he was pinning his hopes on a contraption that had been thought up by one of his quartermasters who had actually attended a university for two summers before being forced to flee ahead of a murder charge.  His machine was a wheeled assault shelter which was propelled by burdenbeasts.  The difference between this machine and the several others that had been tried in the past was that it used a fairly impressive rigging of ropes and poles so that it was pushed forward instead of being pulled.  This arrangement allowed the machine to get closer to the gate.  The roof of the shelter was sheathed in metal so that it could not be set ablaze which was another problem they’d experienced.  The thought was that the shelter would protect some twenty men as they peeled away the metal coverings which protected the thick wood of the gate.  If enough of the plate could be levered off they hoped to be able to start a fire and weaken the structure.