image
image
image

The Treaty

image

ARELL TOSSED THE KEY on the vanity and at the muffled sound of a gagged man, pivoted around the room looking for the source.

“Here.” Hawk hurried to the closet. The admiral had been tied to a chair and shoved in it, amongst his clothes. The man’s dark eyebrows furrowed in an angry frown as Arell helped Hawk pull him from his hiding place.

“You’ll be all right, Geraldo,” Hawk said as he pulled off the gag and untied him.

“All right, my boots!” the admiral grumbled as he stood. “All right will be when I have control of my ship again.” He buttoned his coat and tugged at the hem to get the creases out.

“I think we’ve settled the problem with the witch,” Hawk brushed the lint from his back.

“Why? What happened?”

“She’s dead.”

“Oh goodness! I wasn’t expecting that! And who is this?” Geraldo asked. He spat on his fingertips and twisted one end of his mustache.

Hawk looked at Arell.

“I’m not sure,” he said. “We haven’t been introduced. He came with the king of Potamia.”

“Wait! You just said Airmed killed the king. I thought...” Geraldo scratched his head.

“A lot has happened since you were made captive,” Hawk explained. “The king came aboard and freed Anna. But Airmed may have killed them, we don’t know. Keep your voice down. If my brother finds us, we’re dead.”

“I’m free too?”

Geraldo studied Arell with a critical eye, ignoring Hawk.

“Not exactly,” Hawk said.

“Who are you?” Geraldo asked.

“My name is Arell and I’m from Cho Nisi,” he said.

“Cho Nisi?” the admiral rubbed the rope burns on his wrists. “Cho Nisi?” he asked again. “Is that one of your cities in the Potamia kingdom?”

“Cho Nisi is the island that you so cleverly invaded and whose magic your sorcerers robbed.”

“Oh, that island had a name?”

Arell clenched his fist and then took a breath. This was not the time to feud. They were both in peril. He stood upright and lifted his chin.

“A name and a people. A legend and a history,” he said, speaking with his native accent. Arell didn’t often flaunt his island heritage, but he was dark, his hair a slick black. He took pride not necessarily in his looks, but in the fact he was Cho Nisi, and as far as he was concerned, Geraldo had violated his people.

“Well!” Geraldo looked him up and down. The man’s haughtiness left him as he regarded Arell. “I surmise we’ve done a disservice to you then.”

“An understatement.” Arell searched his eyes, looking for a clue as to why he robbed his people, or an apology, or a promise to return what had been pilfered.

Geraldo looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

Someone banged on the door and any chance of retribution fled. Arell’s attention went to the intruder on the other side of the walls.

The knob jiggled. “Hawk, come out here. We need your help.”

“It’s Fengard. Geraldo, get back in your closet, Arell, hide.” Hawk hissed, shuffling the admiral back onto the chair. Arell slipped in among the admiral’s clothes and peeked out. As soon as they were undercover, Hawk cracked open the door giving Arell a good look at Hawk’s brother. A skinny man with the same dark eyes as Hawk, but there was a sinister air about him, his skin pale, his fingers elongated. The smell of magic seeped into the room with him.

“We need you in the gear deck,” Fengard said. “What are you doing in here?”

“Securing the admiral,” Hawk answered. “Someone did a hurried job tying him up. He was loose and wandering around the cabin. I caught him trying to escape.”

“You need help?”

“No, no, it’s all taken care of.”

Fengard glanced at the admiral, who had stuffed the gag in his mouth and gave the appearance of being incapacitated.

“Finish up quickly and get over there. Airmed is dead but we’re going on with the plan. The king’s ships have returned, and it looks like they’re preparing an attack. Come with me.”

“Just a minute. I’ll be right there.” Hawk pushed his brother out of the room and when the door was shut, he turned to Arell. “I’ll be back.” He picked up the key from the vanity and eyed both Arell and Geraldo. “I promise.”

Hawk’s desire for freedom from his brother’s clutches seemed sincere, but Arell wondered if the man’s treason would be discovered by the sorcerers. If so, they would kill them all. Barin and Anna had fallen overboard. Whether they dove, or were killed, Arell didn’t know, but if they too were dead, he was alone on an enemy ship with no way to protect himself. 

And here he was with the man responsible for all of it.

“We could make a run for it,” Geraldo suggested.

“We could.” Arell stared out the window. The muscles in his neck quivered, his body tensed. “The sorcerers are going to destroy this ship. If we remain in this cabin for very long, there’s no doubt we’ll die. However, as soon as we step foot out that door, they’ll obliterate us immediately.”

The admiral scratched his chin.

Arell paced across the floor, eyeing the man as he pivoted, his fist clenched. “If it were not for your trickeries, this would not be happening.”

The admiral looked up, wide-eyed.

“My trickeries?”

“Why don’t you tell me exactly what you hoped to accomplish by stealing Cho Nisi’s magic?”

"I....uh.” Geraldo fell onto his bed, leaned over, and held his head in his hands. “I’ve been commissioned by my king to import wine from your country.”

“Wine?” Arell was taken aback. “Wine?” He lowered his voice. “This is all because your people are thirsty for wine?”

“No. Well, yes and no.” Geraldo wiped the sweat from his face. “They’re going to kill us, aren’t they?”

“That’s their intent. We don’t have much time if we plan to escape.”

The admiral stood and wrung his hands. “We should go.”

“It won’t be that easy,” Arell wondered if sacrificing his life to see Geraldo die would be worth the trouble. “Do you have a weapon that will work against these sorcerers?”

“No.”

“You realize, if you hadn’t stolen our magic, none of this would be happening?” Arell jammed his fist into the palm of his hand to keep from hitting Geraldo. “My people are out there. They want back what you stole from them.”

“I’m sorry. If I could return it, I would. You must realize though, it was an ingenious plan had it worked,” Geraldo muttered.

“How?”

“With a little bit of wind and a storm or two, all the barrels from Tellwater’s harvest could have been on this ship and headed for the Allotrope Isles by now. I had no idea these sorcerers had a vendetta against your king. Nor did I know anything about Lady Anna. They were instructed not to take any prisoners. It was bad enough those two wine runners were abducted. I had no intention of hurting anyone. That was far from my plans. I was told specifically not to start a war.”

“You thought you could do all of this in secret?” Arell reasoned. “What you did was an invasion. Of course, you started a war. Don’t your people have any scruples? Stealing from another nation is an act of war.”

“I tell you; it was supposed to have been done in one night. One. We were to be in and out. That’s why we needed the magic storms. I just wanted to get on the good side of King Delitar. He promised me an airship when I returned. This could have been accomplished so much nicer with an airship. What a dupe I am!”

“You were going to return the magic?”

“Originally, yes. But then, the sorcerers would never have let that happen. I saw that coming after it was too late.”

“Why didn’t your king come to us and ask to trade for wine?”

“We have nothing to trade, or at least I don’t. Our isles are poor. We’ve less than you have, and our winters are harsh. The wine is being used for armor, not consumption, and the byproduct is used for fuel for our airships. There are wars aloft where we come from. Wars far worse than what you know about here. Wars fought in the sky. Invaders from the east pillage our villages.”

The admiral’s pleading eyes disgusted Arell.

“This was all my idea, not King Delitar’s. He had no intention of coming here. He wanted to somehow grow our own vineyards, but it would have taken years and our enemies are at our door, now. We needed fuel. Now! We can’t protect our homeland without our airships. We lack fuel.”

“And Cho Nisi can’t protect their island without their magic.” Arell gazed at the admiral while the man bent over, his head in his hands, shaking and quivering. What does one say to someone like this? I’m sorry your plan to pillage our villages didn’t work out. Arell spun away from him, speechless. He breathed deeply and looked out the portal.

The rain had stopped. Moon rays iced the passing clouds, reflected on the dark waters, and on sails of distant ships. Were those Barin’s ships? A sense of relief swept over Arell. He squinted when he saw something move across the moon. At first, he thought it was a seagull, but no. It was larger than a seagull.

“Most rulers will petition other nations for help,” Arell said. “Not steal from them.”

“Maybe he thought that was what I was doing. Our communication got lost somewhere during the petition. I take full responsibility for the invasion. Not for the attack on King Barin. That was not my idea.”

Arell sighed. What had happened between Geraldo and his king was Geraldo’s problem. The concern now was how to get off this ship before the witches destroyed it.

“Are you able to take command of this ship again?” Arell asked Geraldo.

“Over my men, yes. They have no idea what’s going on aside from enemy ships being demolished. I suppose they’re wondering what that’s about. Most of the men do not like the wizards, and can you blame them? I have no control over the Neverworld flock.”

“If the Neverworld flock were not on your ship, then you would have command of it, correct?”

Geraldo looked up at him, his eyes red. “I’m an Admiral. I’m their commander.”

“Then should the wizards...disappear, you would be willing to treaty with our people.”

“Treaty?”

“I’m sure Lord Garion would not mind parleying with you. Wine is his business.”

“What would he want in return?”

Arell grinned slightly. Sometimes his patience paid off.

“Cho Nisi magic,” he said. “And...maybe an airship.”

“I can’t speak for the king.”

“Good gods, you already have!” Arell exclaimed. “Look where you’ve put him. He’s at war because of you.”

“Yes, yes, you’re right.” The admiral wiped his brow again and sighed. “I’m sure a trade could be made. We’d have to rid ourselves of the wizards. However, I believe they plan on getting rid of us first.”

“We’ll see,” Arell said and peeked out the window again.

Hawk burst into the room at that moment. The sound coming from the gear deck had grown louder and there was a distinct odor that trailed after him. Arell couldn’t quite place it, but it had a metallic smell like that from a blacksmith forge.

“Well, they are conjuring the biggest storm you could imagine,” Hawk said.

Arell’s eyes widened. “With Cho Nisi magic?”

“They plan on sending it toward your king’s ships and bailing out of this one. We’ve got to leave.”

Geraldo stood and combed his hair with his hand, picked up his hat and his coat. “Where to, Hawk?”

“There’s only one choice,” Arell replied. “How good of a swimmer are you?”

“Overboard?” Geraldo’s eyes widened.

“There’s a fleet out there ready to pick us up if you can get to it.”

The admiral’s face paled.

“The storm will destroy Barin’s boats!” Geraldo said.

“The storm will destroy us if we don’t flee,” Hawk pulled off his cloak and unbuttoned his shirt. “Your boots will hold you down, Admiral. I suggest taking them off.”

Once barefoot and shirtless, Arell opened the door and the three made a run for the sea.

Instead of meeting cold water, they were hit with a bolt of fire. A sorcerer’s lasso. The heat burned his torso and Arell groaned in pain.

Hawk and Geraldo writhed, pinned by lightning.

Arell opened his eyes as Fengard swung around the deck and pinned him against a wall directly in between Hawk and Geraldo, facing the gear deck’s door.

“Where are you going, little brother?” Fengard asked Hawk. “Not for a swim, I would hope.” The wizard paced in front of them. The glow from the magical ropes they were bound with reflected on the wizard’s face. Five of the sorcerers stood behind him, vials in their hands, pointed fingers controlling the blaze that tortured them.

The more Arell struggled, the hotter the flame, and so he stopped fighting.

“We’re about to release the most spectacular show of power mankind has ever seen. You don’t want to miss it, I’m sure, and you certainly don’t want to be in the center of it.”

“Just surrender, Fengard. Airmed is gone. There’s no reason to go on,” Hawk pleaded. Fengard flicked the lasso tighter over his brother so that it bound his arms to his chest.

“Stop fighting, Hawk. The sorcerers have already been convicted you of treason, and I’ve disowned you. You aren’t my brother any longer so there’s nothing holding you to us. I have no reason to listen to you or to be merciful to you and your friends.” Fengard said.

“Then let us go. Let us swim. Why does it matter to you where we die?” Arell asked.

“I want an audience,” Fengard replied. The wizard stepped back and burned down the opening to the gear deck with one sweep of his hands, so that Arell had full view of the Machine he had been hearing. It whistled and puffed steam into the open air. Giant gears rotated, brass pulleys cranked back and forth, ramming a vapor through glass tubes as large as a man’s fist. With every push, the Machine groaned, and the steam changed color from white to orange, to red, to green. Three robed men collected the vapor and as their jars filled, they stepped in front of Arell and slowly let the mist escape. When a cloud had formed above their heads, the men gathered another load and returned with more, and then more again.

When the contents of the Machine had been released, the sorcerers stood back and watched. Still the Machine continued to pump out steam. The denser the cloud grew, the colder it became until the heat from the lasso and the iciness of the air sent spasms up Arell’s spine.

And then the sound came. It wasn’t thunder. It was a steady thumping in time with the beat of the Machine. To Arell, it sounded like the drums of the Cho Nisi but distorted. Voices of warriors penetrated the cloud. As if the chants had been twisted and wrung and hung in the pit of Hades to collect the haunts of every soul lost.

Arell, in agony, closed his eyes, wishing he could close his ears. He struggled against the rope of white lightning attaching him to the sinking ship. He couldn’t see the others, engulfed entirely in the damp filthy residue of the wizard’s magic.

Arell prayed.