Two Heirs (The Marmoros Trilogy Book 1) (36 page)

He was forced to use his agility to save himself more than once, deflecting blows to the side rather than attempting to block them and he could feel himself tiring. A deflected blow to the side did not quite go far enough and, as he tried to spin away, the power sword caught him just under the ribs, slicing cleanly through the mithril chainmail and into his flesh. Now he had blood loss to contend with as well as fatigue. The end had to come soon.

The grin on Courtney’s face spread even wider at the sight of the blood and he charged forward again, sword raised high over his head. This time David had no choice but to use the katana to block the blow and, as he had feared, the power sword sliced straight through the blade about a hand’s breadth from the hilt. He threw himself to the ground as the blow came down but, instead of rolling away as Courtney had anticipated, he rolled towards the other man and jabbed the remaining part of the katana into the other man’s groin with a savage twist.

Blood poured from Courtney’s leg in great spurts as he sank to one knee. It was a mortal wound and both men knew it but the power sword was still dangerous. Both men staggered to their feet and this time David had the advantage. Courtney lurched towards him and swung the sword in a wide arc but David swayed back and then followed in behind the blade to prevent the return swing. He kicked at Courtney’s damaged leg and the man went down with David on top of him. There was a wild look in Courtney’s eyes as he tried to raise the sword but David jabbed down with the remains of the katana, just below the laces of the other man’s helm and it was all over.

Duke Henry’s men started to surge forward but stopped short as half a dozen arrows thudded into the ground in front of them. Walbend barked an order and the
pikemen
lowered their weapons to the ready position and stepped forward a pace. The horsemen by the wagon looked at the situation and then wheeled their horses around and headed for the safety of the trees. The two men on the driver’s seat jumped down and ran after them closely followed by the rest of the soldiers.

Walbend ran over to help David to his feet as Feynor and the others poured out through the gates.

“I’ll be alright,” David said as he collapsed to his knees again. “Get that family inside the gates and bring me that man’s sword. I want it. And be careful to only touch the hilt; it’s a dangerous weapon.”

They loaded David on the back of the wagon as it passed through the gates. Feynor went with him to keep pressure on the wound as David finally lapsed into unconsciousness. The other men stayed on the walls to watch as the enemy camp was dismantled and the soldiers disappeared back up the highroad. When the last of the enemy had left, Jeren and the other officers lined up to shake Walbend’s hand and thank him for everything he had done. Finally, Jeren went to speak to Maxten. He hauled him to his feet and made him look over the parapet.

“You see, my lord, what can be achieved if you stand up for yourself. Your captain is an excellent man; trust his judgement. And when we retake our homeland, the twin cities of Marmoros and Highport will form a trading axis that will dominate the world. You have the opportunity to become wealthy beyond anything you have ever imagined but you have to maintain your independence and your neutrality. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Ah yes, I think so.”

Jeren shook his head even as he shook Maxten’s hand.

“Farewell, my lord. We will meet again. You can count on it.”

At Feynor’s insistence, the family whipped up the horses and raced through the city to the Keldis gate. The main camp had been established a couple of leagues further on, where the roads to
Kell and Yarford diverged. The wagon raced into the camp with Feynor yelling for Marta.

The three women, Marta, Leyla and Mo arrived together and quickly stripped David of the mithril armour and his undershirt. Marta examined the wound carefully and pronounced her opinion that none of the major organs had been damaged. So she cleaned the wound and stitched it up before David could regain consciousness. An improvised stretcher was put together and they supervised the transfer to their own wagon where Leyla and Mo took turns to watch over him.

Feynor stood in for David at the council meeting later that morning, when Jeren and the others arrived from the city. The argument revolved around whether they should head towards Kell and meet with Duke Theron before moving towards Marmoros or take the more direct route via Yarford. Contact had been made with the other two Lyenar villages;
one in Keldis and the other in Westron. Both had agreed to meet with Jeren and both had suggested Yarford as the most appropriate place and so the decision was made to head towards Yarford and wait for the others to arrive.

By the time David awoke, it was late afternoon and the rain was hammering down on the roof of the wagon as it swayed slowly along the road.

“Where are we?” he croaked.

“You’re safe, David,” Leyla said as she raised a cup of water to his lips.

He took a sip. “Thank you for that, my darling Leyla and if I am here with you, I know that I am safe. But where are we and where are we heading?”

“We’re on the road to Yarford, David. The council decided this morning. Now, if you’re going to be alright for a few minutes, I have to go and tell Lady Falaise that you’re awake. She insisted on being told.”

Falaise arrived about ten minutes later, hood pulled up to protect her long brown hair and water dripping off her cloak.

“How are you feeling, David?” she asked softly.

“I’m fine, thank you Falaise. I’ve had far worse. I’ll be up and around tomorrow.”

“You’ll get up when Marta tells you and not a minute before,” she told him. “You lost a lot of blood.”

He started to protest but fell silent as Falaise threw back her hood and glared at him.

“Don’t look at me like that. I get enough of that from Marta.”

“It’s no more than you deserve, risking your life like that. But the council have asked me to thank you for getting our people safely through Highport. When we meet with the other groups in Yarford, we can plan how we are going to recapture Marmoros.”

Chapter 19

Boarding the Santa Joanna had been an experience for all the youngsters and even Josep and Agnes had only ever undertaken one sea voyage before. The Santa Joanna turned out to be a small two
masted brig that looked somewhat the worse for wear. It was, however, small enough to tie up at one of the wharves stretching out into the bay which allowed them to drive their wagons down the pier alongside the ship.

They unhitched the horses who were swayed aboard first, down into the hold where temporary stalls had been rigged to accommodate them. The bales of bedding and feed for the horses which Josep had bought for the voyage, had already been loaded into the hold. Next the wagons were swayed aboard, one by one, and lashed to the deck. The wagons would have no protection from the weather or from seas breaking across the deck and so the ladies had wrapped everything they could in bundles of oilcloth and canvas. The more precious possessions and vulnerable trading goods were taken below to the hold but space there was extremely limited and most of their goods had to remain in the wagons.

There was no accommodation for passengers on the brig, so they would all have to sleep either in or under their wagons. Agnes had been out and bought quilted jackets and leggings for everybody with oilskin overcoats that reached down to their ankles. It was, she said, just a precaution and they would be able to sell them again once they reached Kell.

Angelo and his family had accompanied them down to the quayside and the farewells had been tinged with a variety of emotions. Everybody was still filled with the excitement of the adventure they were about to undertake but sad at the parting of friends. One by one they thanked Angelo and Maria for the hospitality they had been shown and Seb tried again to apologise for the incident with Oscar Cortes.

“Don’t apologise to me, Seb,” Angelo said looking towards Teresa. “In my eyes you have done nothing wrong.”

“Thank you for saying that, sir. I may not have done anything wrong but in my heart, I don’t think I did enough right.”

“If you’re talking about your heart, young man, you are definitely talking to the wrong person,” Angelo smiled, giving him a push in the direction of his daughter.

Seb took Teresa’s hands in his and stood silently looking at her for a long moment.

“What, have you nothing to say to me, Seb?” she asked eventually.

“I just wanted to burn this image of you into my mind and into my heart, so that I can carry it with me always, until I can come back to you.”

“Even with a scar down my cheek?”

“Even with that, you are the most beautiful woman in the entire world. And you never know. Where we are going now, I shall have to fight for my living. By the time I come back, I may have a scar on my face that will outdo yours.”

“Just make sure you do come back, Seb,” she whispered and kissed him swiftly on the cheek.

There was no more time for farewells then as the captain was anxious to make the afternoon tide and so they all hurried aboard. If boarding was an experience, life on-board a sea going vessel was a bewildering combination of sights, sounds and smells. The brig was square rigged on the main and fore masts with lateen sails rigged fore and aft for manoeuvrability. Once they were clear
of the quay, the ship became a hive of activity with seamen racing from one position to the next, rigging sails at the shouted commands of the captain and his mates.

The ship was never silent. Apart from the sound that the bare feet of the rushing seamen made on the deck, the ship continually creaked and groaned as the wind shifted slightly and altered the tension in the rigging. The tang of salt in the air was refreshing at first but quickly became overpowered by the more familiar smell of horse shit. They all had to take turns at mucking out the stalls below; hauling buckets of manure to the deck to go over the side. Leeside, as they were swiftly told by an irate mate the first time they nearly got it wrong.

Rachel and Seb looked at each other in bewilderment. “That was the side we used yesterday,” Rachel said. “So which is the leeside?”

“Depends on which way the wind’s blowing,” a friendly sailor told them as he passed. “Leeside is where the wind’s blowing away from the ship. So all that muck don’t blow back onto the side of the ship where we got to clean it.”

The weather was kind to them for the first three days out of Puerto Reis. The seas were relatively calm and everyone except Beth, quickly gained their sea legs. On the fourth day, however, the wind started to pick up from the south and dark clouds began to build up on the horizon. The course they were steering was southeast to round Cape Spire before heading up the more sheltered Western Sea towards Kell. But when he saw the storm building, the captain altered course due east to try to hit the coast early and find a sheltered bay to ride it out.

The waves gradually increased throughout the day and the captain was forced to steer a few points to the north to avoid the seas hitting the ship beam on. Even so, the tops of some of the waves started to break over the side of the ship and water swirled around the deck making movement treacherous. The ship’s pumps, which had only been used for two hours a day for the first three days, were now in continuous use. Josep and the others volunteered to help by taking turns on the pumps while the women tried to comfort the frightened horses.

The lookouts caught sight of the coastline, a long dark smudge on the horizon ahead of them, minutes before the first rain squall hit the ship. The topsails had been taken down long before and the captain now sent men aloft to put a reef into the mainsails as the ship heeled over before the force of the wind. Visibility had dropped dramatically with the onset of the rain and the coastline was only visible now in the brief moments of respite between the squalls.

The ship was still scudding along ahead of the wind and the captain ordered a second reef in the mainsails as they searched desperately for a break in the cliffs which might indicate a bay in which they could take shelter.
When the gap eventually appeared, it was lit up by a flash of lightning that also showed some nasty rocks on the approach into the bay. The only way to get into there would be to sail almost past the rocks and then bring the ship hard about and tack into the bay against the wind.

The captain had ordered the main and fore sails taken in completely to try to reduce the speed of the ship but the distance to the headland on the far side of the bay was rapidly diminishing as he gave the order to bring the ship about. As the ship turned it presented its beam to the onrushing waves which were now breaking over the deck with some regularity. One wave larger than the others, came over the side with sufficient force to hit Josep’s wagon and snap one of the tethers holding it in position. The front of the wagon started to slew round and sailors leaped to pass another rope through the spokes of the front wheel and haul it back into position.

The forward speed of the ship slowed now as they tacked into the wind and
the force of the wind and waves gradually eased as they gained the shelter of the headland. The captain dropped the bow anchor and took in the remaining sails as the ship swung to face the storm. They made the anchorage before the worst of the storm hit and were safe to ride out the blow but the ship had taken some damage and the pumps were required to be kept in operation on a continuous basis.

The storm lasted two full days with lightning flashing overhead and the wind howling round the headland seeking them out like some vengeful banshee. All of them alternated between lying flat on their backs, taking a turn at the pumps, mucking out the horses and throwing up over the side – the leeside.

With the difficulty of keeping down any sort of food, they were all feeling weak and exhausted by the time the storm abated. However, the captain and his mates had kept the crew busy at replacing rigging that had been chafed or damaged by the wind and when the third day dawned bright and clear, the ship sailed out of the bay in fairly good order. The pumps were still going continuously but the Santa Joanna made good time down the coast to round Cape Spire into the Western Sea.