The Coastal Kingdoms of Olvion: Book Two of The Chronicles of Olvion (32 page)

***

Far below Toria, the warriors that were gathered on the beach were all standing.  They had seen the drama with the desperate action to hold on to the cliff.  Some in the crowd gasped when she swung herself over and flew through the air for several feet before catching a projection and achieving an apparent secure hold.  They applauded and shouted when she scrambled the rest of the way up and disappeared over the top of the granite wall.

A moment later her head peeked over the edge, and she held up the twine.  Another cheer rose, and two warriors went over to the other end and securely tied the heavier rope to the end of the twine.  Then…slowly… the rope started its long ascent up the face of the cliff wall.

Captain Jile sat in the “Maid o’ the Sea” tavern. He’d had an ale or two and was enjoying the pleasant warm feeling that the beverage provided.  The patrons of the tavern were talking among themselves, producing a soft buzz of noise and now and again a string of laughter would erupt.  He loved nights like this and loved being around seamen.  The glow bulbs overhead produced a soft illumination in the old tavern, and there was a smell of meat roasting in the air.

He was in the city of Chalmus, the only settlement on the large Island of Wastrel.  His nine ships floated lazily in the calm waters of the island’s protected lagoon.  He knew he should have sold them off by now, but he had not quite been able to take that step.  They were not making him any money.  In fact, the cost of maintaining them was high.  What was a captain without his ships?  He turned when the door opened, and the soft breeze pushed in.  It was a seaman who opened it.  Jile knew that by the way he walked even though his head and face were concealed by a hood.  The man obtained an ale from the bar master and walked deeper into the facility. 

The tavern was patronized by many different sorts, most of them merely enjoying the distractions provided by the infamous city of Chalmus.  Every tavern had its darker customers, and this one had more than its share.  Jile noticed several of these men measuring the new arrival.  This was a game that was played out wherever men gathered.  Whether in a deserted alley or a royal reception hall, when two men met, they instinctively sized each other up to determine who would be dominant.  The darker elements present here tonight were making a determination as to whether this new arrival was weak and could be relieved of whatever he carried.  Jile noticed that these brigands took a brief inspection of the way the new man walked with his weight balanced and his arms hanging loosely by his side.  They also took in the long, thin sword on one side of his hips and the ornate hilt of the dagger on the other. They quickly returned their attention to their own libations.  This was not a man to be exploited.

The man weaved between the tables, ignoring the conversations and the occasional curse.  He chose a table directly next to Jile’s and sat heavily, expelling a long sigh.

Jile smiled.  He got the bar master’s attention and pointed to his ale.  The master, a thin man with one eye covered by a bright yellow rag, nodded and handed an ale to a young lad who placed it on Jile’s table and bowed as he backed away.  He took a long gulp of the cool liquid.

“Surprised to see you here, Fauwler.”

Fauwler’s shoulders shook a little as he chuckled.  He lowered his hood and turned his head.  “Why is it I’ve never been able to sneak up on you, Jile?”

The old Captain rose and stepped over to Fauwler’s table, taking a seat.  “In order to reach my age in our business you develop an awareness.  It’s not all that difficult.”

Fauwler drained half of his ale with one gulp.  He took a quick look around the tavern.  “Where are your captains?”

“They’re around.  They’re waiting for me to decide whether I really want to sell out and find a nice woman somewhere.  You’re not here to explore my future plans, however.  You’ve sought me out for something.  I would guess this was not the first tavern you’ve visited this night.”

Fauwler turned his chair so that the two men could look directly at each other.

“You’ve seen through my clever façade.  I have a proposal for you.”

Two hours later the two captains were in another large inn located two streets back from the shore.   The other eight men present were the captains of Jile’s fleet.  They were sitting at two tables that had been pushed together to accommodate all of them.  Jile had requested privacy, and the keeper had led them to a room that was only used when the crowds grew too large to service in the main area.

Jile and Fauwler had just laid out their plans to the assembled seamen.

“Now, I want it absolutely clear,” Jile told them.  “This is something that you all must decide for yourself.  Every man here has earned enough from our past efforts to live their lives without worry as long as they avoid the gaming tables.  I will bear no ill thoughts to any of you who decide to follow that path.  Indeed, if you follow me on this venture you risk everything.  What you need to ask yourself is if you are ready to change everything about your lives.  You might also find yourself sword to sword with old friends in the process.”

Dallen had been one of Jile’s captains longer than any of the others.  He was a short man with a full beard and many piercings in his ears.  He took a long pull on his ale and spoke.  “I have a question.  Why?  As you said, Captain, we have enough accumulated wealth to last us.  Why risk it all on…this?”

Jile looked to Fauwler.  The younger captain looked at Dallen.  “Where is your home?” he asked.

The pirate captain scratched his nose.  “My home?”

“Yes, your home.  Is it here in Chalmus?  Have you friends here outside of your crew?  Family?  Have you a home here?”

Dallen looked about himself at the others.  “Well Captain, we all have enough to buy a home anywhere.”

Fauwler nodded.  “And how long do you think it will take the nobles to track you down?  Can you ever feel as safe as you felt in Kylee?”

The others looked at each other.  This was a subject that they had all previously considered.

Fauwler continued.  “My home is Kylee.  I was drawn there by the promise of freedom.  My friends are there.  My home.  My life.  But we were careless, and we allowed it to fall into stained hands.  The Council of Captains has now been taken over by men who don’t revere freedom as we do.  Events have transpired which now have each of us here banned from our homes in Kylee. 

“Not everyone still in Kylee pays allegiance to the new regime there.  I estimate there are just fewer than a hundred crews who are loyal to Lampte and Tallun.  I don’t know how many men at arms that gives them, but I would estimate at least four to five thousand.  These men are not like us, brothers.  They follow captains who place no value on human life or human dignity.  In truth, they are little different from the nobles from whom all in this room escaped. 

“Do you recall the spectacle at the gates of the Aspell stronghold when Tallun had four innocent men beheaded?  When did we become that sort?  They have now embraced the capture and trading of slaves.  When did we become slavers?”

The information regarding slavery sparked a ripple of discussion between the captains.  Since they had withdrawn with Jile earlier they had not been aware of this new wrinkle.

The men discussed the issue throughout the night and into the pink dawn.  The tankards of ale were replaced by mugs of strong licorice-tasting tea.  By the time platters of gruel and smoked fish were passed around they had decided on a course of action.

The main objection that the captains had was taking up arms against old friends.  They knew that there were good people on Kylee who may not agree with the new Council’s decisions but would fight anyone who dared to invade their home.  It was the single obstacle to unanimous agreement.  It was finally overcome when Fauwler agreed to sneak ashore and organize like-minded citizens of Kylee to either abstain from fighting or even join them in their effort.

The following afternoon nine ships unfurled their sails and caught the breeze west to Kylee.

***

The process of getting a thousand warriors up the face of the cliff and safely on top was accomplished in two stages.  Thirty six of them managed to work their way to the top on the first day before the sun sank.  That group spent the night with Toria on the grassy face of the opposite side of the cliff.  It was a gentle slope down to the swamp below, and there were many trees and boulders which provided sufficient wind breaks to make the passing of the night tolerable. Throughout the night, shifts worked above and below to reel up the equipment that the invading force would need to accomplish their task.  The night was too dark to risk people climbing the cliff, but it was not a problem for hoisting their gear.

By the breaking of dawn almost all of the equipment and weapons had been hauled up leaving the warriors with only themselves to worry about getting to the top.  That task was more easily spoken than executed.  Even with the rope providing a constant handhold the trek was difficult.  Only the extreme physical training and conditioning of the warriors made it possible. 

And not everyone was successful.  Twice the soldiers watched in horror as a climber lost footing and had not taken sufficient hold on the rope.  Their screams as they plunged to the rocks below would not soon be forgotten.

Eventually though, only Taggart was left.  He looked over to the two mounds of freshly turned sand which covered their brothers in arms.  Then he looked straight up at the looming cliff face.

Taggart was not a person who enjoyed heights.  This was one chore in which his size and weight was not an advantage.  However, the lower gravity of Olvion definitely would be a help.  He suspected he would have been unable to accomplish the climb had that not been the case.

Now he took a strain on the rope and started upward. 

The climb was long and exhausting.  Halfway up he wondered how Toria had ever been able to succeed.  His hands were aching already just from holding onto the rope.  He could not imagine having to use sharp rocks as handholds.  His legs already trembled with the strain of constantly pushing up against the rock.  Two thirds of the way up the wind battered him, making the rope slap against the wall and shaking him each time.  He told himself several times that, if he was successful at scaling the cliff, he would look at the young woman with a renewed level of respect.

When he was high enough that he could hear shouts from above he looked up to see Toria lying on her stomach with her head over the edge and smiling down at him.

“Hi Tag.  Listen, the last part of the climb is the most difficult because there are very few places in which to place your feet.  Get ready, take a good strong hold on the rope.  When you are ready nod your head, and we’ll pull you up.”

The big man resisted the urge to look down.  The wind already told him that he was too high to feel comfortable doing that.  He wrapped the rope around his left arm twice and took a firm hold with the other.  When he was ready he looked up and nodded.  Toria smiled again.  “Hold tight!”

With unnerving swiftness Taggart began to rise.  He had been thirty feet from the top edge, and he traveled that almost instantly.  When his head and shoulders breached the top, arms reached out and grabbed his vest and under his arms.  With a last surge of effort he was hauled over the top and landed on several of the warriors who had pulled him over.  Everyone laughed and cheered.  Taggart continued to lay on his back on the hard granite gasping air.  His breathing eventually slowed and he was helped up by several others.  The wind was strong enough that he backed well away from the edge, fearing he might be blown over.

“Nice little climb, isn’t it?” Toria was now next to him, squinting as she looked up.  He noted that the newly-named Pan was riding her shoulder in the exact manner as Tinker was now riding his.  The two creatures snickered and trilled to each other.

Taggart made a show of dropping to one knee and bowing his head.  First he thanked God for getting him safely up the cliff.  Then he looked at Toria and smiled.  “Lady Toria, climbing that cliff was an accomplishment that I am in awe of.  I dare say that you are the only person among us who could have done it.  I salute you.”  He then placed his fist on his chest, executing the Olvioni Warrior version of a salute.

Toria turned pink with embarrassment then a bright red when every other member of their assault force also saluted her.

Later as the group made their way down the sloping backside of the cliff, Taggart, Jo-Dal and Spall walked together.

“I confess, I am still wondering how that girl climbed that wall,” Spall said to the others.  “I almost fell several times, and I had a rope to hold onto.”

Jo-Dal nodded and looked to Taggart.  “Indeed, she is a special woman.  Does Olvion plan to induct her into warrior status?  If not, Aspell would be happy to offer her a commission.”

Taggart was impressed.  The offer of a commission was a rare honor that was extended only in the rarest of occasions.  Of course Toria’s courageous climb could be characterized as a rare accomplishment.  Indeed, if she had not been successful their assault team would still be stalled on the beach.

“Well, since she and her family are now citizens of Olvion I think we will retain the option of commissioning her ourselves, but I will relay your offer to her.”

The descent was much easier than the climb.  The gentle slope of the high hill was only difficult in certain places, and the use of ropes enabled them to keep progress at a steady pace.  Just before the evening fell the group of a thousand warriors gathered at the edges of the large swamp.  There was a broad strip of dry dirt and high grasses on which they set up camp.  The insects were bad here, and many had to employ milt root to their faces and exposed skin.  The pungent root was effective at repelling bugs as well as close contact with other people.

As darkness settled in, the three commanders of the forces of Olvion, Archer’s Gate and Aspell advised their fighters to remain vigilant and watch out for each other.  Sentries were set, and the others settled in for the night.