The Dragon God (Book 2) (12 page)

Xan didn’t hesitate to come in swinging with his longsword. He gave Lufra two easy swipes to block, setting him up for a swift, harsh, swat on the rear by the flat of his blade. The teenager reached quickly for his rear-end, rubbing it, and his face contorted from the sting. Several sailors laughed heartily at the elf’s education for the child.

“I’ll have to remember that one,” Lufra stated.

“It’s all about feeling and instinct, not memory. You have to know your opponent’s next move before he does.”

“How do you do that?”

“It takes time and practice. Lots of practice.”

“How long did it take you to learn?”

Xan chuckled, “A good hundred years.” The elf swung his blade again and Lufra jumped back out of the way.

“I don’t have a hundred years Xan.”

“Then you had better learn quickly,” the elf smiled and moved into the proper posture again. As the brilliant orange and pink sunset pushed aside the light of day, the metallic clashing of steel against steel continued to ring from the deck of the galleon.

“Trillius,” a female gnome whispered.

“Shhhh. Stop using that name. Someone might hear it.”

“Sorry, Silly Samuel. Is that better?”

“Shhhh. I’m trying to listen through this damn creaky wood,” he responded.

No taller than a barrel, the gnome had his ear against the ceiling planks, focusing on the muffled voices coming from the captain’s quarters above. The silver-eyed creature mashed his face into the ceiling while balancing on the thin, makeshift scaffold inside a storage room. His dark hair lay in wisps around his tiny ears, and his rotund grey nose was smooth like lamb
skin. The sniffer was the pride and joy of all gnomes, like the beard on a dwarf, and this gnome had much to be proud of.

“They mentioned Pirate’s Belly,” he said softly.

“Good, that is where we can get off and disappear.”

“Wait! Ah, dammit, I missed the next place they were going. It’s your fault, Sugar, if we miss something good.”

“Don’t call me Sugar. And you know I don’t care for all that thieving stuff you do.”

“Yeah, I know. You’re a nature-gnome.”

“We need to get off at Pirate’s Belly. This is our chance to escape and leave your—”

“My
what
, Rozelle?” he focused in on her meaning.

“I was just referring to your past is all. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Yeah, right. Are you sure you’re a gnome? I’ve never heard of one taking up the druidical profession.”

“Well, let it be known, that I’m trying to change the profiling of our race to a more noble impression.”

“Somehow I don’t think saving nature is gonna change anything.”

“I don’t share your—”

“Shhhhh. I hear the mystic talking now with the captain.”

Rozelle held her breath. She was the same height as Trillius. Her rosy cheeks brought out the beige color of her large nose. Ashen locks weaved in and out of her long, birch bark colored hair, complimenting her attire. She wore a green skirt and soft velvet green blouse. Brown boots and a belt finished off her ensemble.

Trillius plucked his ear away with a smile on his face.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Have you heard of something called the Pearl of the Deep?”

“No. Why?”

A mischievous grin and a raised eyebrow alerted Rozelle.

She glared back at him in understanding, “We are not getting off at Pirate’s Belly, are we?”

O
n the third day out to sea, the routines on board
A Pinch of Luck
kept their journey moving smoothly. Xan continued to train Lufra in the art of swordplay, and the boy showed natural skill and growth. Raina shared many stories with Captain Elsbeth; her half-elf counterpart offered more historical background, explaining some of the time Raina spent as a captive inside the Burning Forest. Rondee the Wild was learning the ropes, literally, from the crew, who at one time jokingly hoisted him into the rigging high above the deck. El’Korr noticed Anders the Priest seemed to be avoiding him whenever he approached. Some of the more superstitious sailors associated Anders coughing spasms with strange happenings aboard the ship and became spooked. Several men reported that some of their small trinkets and belongings, like single socks, or mementos from past voyages, had gone missing. First Mate Skath and Second Mate Myers began an investigation.

Rozelle lobbed a shard of a pearlescent shell at Trillius, “Why do you continue to steal this worthless stuff?” she chided.

Trillius, who was sitting on top of a bag of grain, caught it, looked it over, and mumbled, “I don’t know. I’m bored.”

“Stealing is a sickness, and you’ve got it.”

“I’m not sick. Being cooped up in this hell-hole ship with
Nature-girl
is more than a manly-gnome can take,” he countered as he jumped off his grain perch.

“Don’t give me that. You love the fact that you have two Horn Kings looking for you. All that attention. It’s
all
about Trillius,” she jabbed.

“Stop using my real name,” Trillius said through clenched teeth.

Rozelle snapped, “Why? Are you afraid someone will come down here and find they have the Great Trillius?!” She narrowed her eyes and tightened her jaw, hurt by his sharpness toward her.

After a long pause to assure himself that no one heard her outburst, Trillius smiled and said smoothly, “You are kind of sexy when you get angry.” As he spoke, Trillius walked seductively toward Rozelle.

She smirked, “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?” He moved closer to her.

“That silly walk.”

“Oh, you mean this?” He laughed and spun around on one heel, placed his hands on his hips, and gyrated from side to side.

Rozelle giggled, “Stop it, silly.” A blush spread across her face.

Trillius had her right where he wanted her. He slowly shuffled closer, but before he could take her in his arms to kiss her, she stiffened and said, “Did you hear that?”

“Unbelievable. No, what is it now? Last time you needed to check on that old man’s garden that wasn’t being attended to properly.”

“It’s…singing.”

“I don’t hear anything except my hope being squashed,
again
.” Trillius leaned against a barrel, crossed his arms, and pouted.

“What are you talking about? I hear women singing.”

At that moment, they heard the muffled call of the sailor on watch in the crow’s nest yell out, “Ahoy, approaching the Singing Rocks!”

Captain Elsbeth studied the cathedral-like rock formation jutting up above the ocean’s surface, situated starboard of the galleon, from her place on deck. Towering swells of water formed into waves and engulfed the many reef outcroppings, sending mountains of furious white frothy foam high into the air. The booming bombardment of breakers assailed the ears of the crew as shifting tides receded, revealing the barnacle covered black rock and numerous alcoves and caves. Then the sea rushed in at a greater speed than it had earlier subsided. Above the din, a melodious choir of female voices carried by the wind encircled the vessel.

“What causes this?” Raina asked, joining the captain.

“The legend of the Singing Rocks comes from the Unknown Age. The story speaks of a Beruvian slave ship and its captain being infected with the Sea Fever. The captain went mad and slaughtered the female elven slaves, thinking they were spies. His ship crashed on the rocks at this very spot and everyone aboard died. The legend tells of how the elven spirits sing their story to passing ships.”

El’Korr nodded, “Very interesting, Raina, do they sing in your language?”

“I can’t make anything discernible from it, but it is beautiful. It does remind me of home.”

Elsbeth added, “There is another facet to their song.”

“Oh, what is that?” El’Korr asked.

“Hidden within their history is a warning. The fallen elves sing an alert to the captains of passing ships, of spies aboard their vessel. I have personally never had a spy aboard to confirm—,” Elsbeth froze and then suddenly frowned, “It appears there is a first time for everything.”

“What is it?” Raina asked.

Elsbeth called out, “Skath, Myers, follow me!”

The first and second mates hustled by her side as she strode to the stairway leading below deck. Raina, El’Korr, Rondee, Xan, and Lufra followed. Elsbeth seemed to know exactly where she was going as she walked rapidly to the unknown destination. She kicked open a wooden door and stepped into a small storeroom. In a swift fluent action, she withdrew her rapier. Skath and Myers followed suit and drew sabers, waiting for her command. The room showed no movement amongst the stacked barrels and bags of grain. There was a long pause as the three surveyed the room, the creaks of the weathered galleon were the only discernible sounds.

“I know you are here. Reveal yourself,” the captain demanded.

Raina spotted a blurry shift to her left. She cast a spell, pointing her staff, and releasing a command word, “Voshnu.” In an instant two gnomes appeared. Raina had dispelled their chameleon-like illusion. Skath and Myers moved to apprehend the intruders.

“Not them!” Elsbeth said. Her eyes were focused straight ahead. “The gnomes are stowaways, not spies.”

Suddenly, a once unseen, two-foot-tall creature with a tail, became visible on top of a barrel. The shimmering magic faded as it dove behind a crate.

Skath turned to the gnomes and barked, “What did you bring aboard our ship!”

Trillius stepped forward and began to weave his story, “Well, that hideous beast captured us and forced us onto your ship. We are so thankful you rescued us. We’ve been stuck in here for days, and—”

“Shut it gnome, before I cut out yer tongue!”

“Skath, hold your position!” Elsbeth commanded. “I can sense that thing is still behind the crates. Advance.”

The wild dwarf tossed the wooden containers aside. He spotted the reptile-like tail as it hurriedly slithered away. Rondee pointed out the direction, and Skath maneuvered to the other side and began tipping crates.

“You have it pinned,” Elsbeth cried.

Everyone stood at the ready. The tension mounted as the barrels were moved aside one by one. When only two remained, Rondee nodded to Skath, coordinating their next move. Together they snatched a barrel away from the wall. Immediately, a large rat screeched, darted between their legs, scurried through a cracked opening, and disappeared into the hull.