Chapter 14

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A steady, rhythmic tap, fast at times, mingled with the gentle creak of wood and rope that meant a ship under sail. Strains of music filtered through and the tapping noise continued in time with a rapid tune.

Dynan opened his eyes, remembering where he was and how he’d gotten there. The noise stopped. He was instantly aware of Marc, a strong flash of thought at first that then receded to a constant.

Dynan smiled, watching the water and a distant shore go by through the port windows. And then he heard the sound of someone else stirring from sleep, coming from beneath the bunk. He rolled to the side and looked under. Two large trunks kept him from seeing who was there, but he already knew.

“Loren.” Silence followed, but then she appeared, crawling out from behind the trunk near the head of the bed. “What are you doing?”

“I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t stand the thought of you going to Brent and into danger. I couldn’t stay at home and wait. I just couldn’t.” She bit her lip, waiting to see if he would be mad or not. Dynan shook his head and tried not to smile. She saw it anyway, climbed the rest of the way out and sat down beside him. “I’m sorry.”

“Apologize to Marc. It’s his ship.”

She peered out through the window. “Well, at least we’re far enough out that he won’t put me off to shore.”

“I wouldn’t let him do that,” he said and pulled her down so he could kiss her. While she wrapped her arms around him, his mind started going through the short list of justifications again, telling him that since she would be his wife, really it would be all right. He loved her. That made it right. She seemed to think the same thing. There was a subtle change in the way she kissed him. Restraint vanished.

The door banged open.

Dynan knew it was Marc, coming to find out who he was making love to when Loren was supposed to be back in Quilar. He wasn’t so much mad as astounded. “You don’t think my life is difficult enough? No, don’t say anything. I don’t want to hear it. When we get to Brent, you’re going below decks and you’re staying there.”

“Yes, Captain,” Loren said almost meekly, except for the smile in her eyes. Marc tossed aside the pair of shoes he carried and her smile spread to her lips. “Practicing?”

“Yes,” Marc said. “Everyday for about a month.”

“Really?”

Dynan didn’t know what they were talking about, but got an instant image of Marc dancing. It was gone before he had the chance to understand it. Marc was already moving on to something else. He pulled out a rolled map and spread it across his desk, frowning over it for a moment. Jurdin came in and then they were both frowning over it.

Dynan glanced at Loren. “Looks serious,” he said and kissed her again before he got up. Jurdin noticed she was there.

“Don’t ask,” Marc said of Loren while he ran a finger along the line of the river, nodding to the map. “He might not be there because we’re so late.”

Jurdin shook his head. “Either that or he was taken. Won’t be the first time that’s happened. If he were home, he would have seen the sails, and we would have gotten a signal.”

They were talking about a lookout, apparently, and Marc didn’t like the conclusion that this man had disappeared. “This is going to be rough.”

Jurdin agreed. “I’ll go tell the men.”

“Tell them we’re going in slow and if it looks bad, we’re turning around.”

Jurdin seemed surprised at that order, glancing at Loren before he went off to inform the crew. Her presence was only partially responsible for Marc’s decision. Dynan was the other, and that surprised him, that Marc would rather manage with Daryl, even when it could cost his job, than risk putting him in danger.

“And Ralion and Sheed think they should be worried,” he said, silently.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t anticipate that our lookout wouldn’t be there. I wouldn’t have let you come along if I’d thought it a possibility. I thought he was too well protected.”

“Don’t worry about me, Marc.”

“Yes, I forgot, you’re the best swordsman that ever was. I have one you can borrow. Care to prove it?”

“Second best,” Dynan said. “Have any practice blades? I’d hate for you to make a mistake and lose an arm for it.”

Loren cleared her throat. “Anything I should know about?” she asked, eyeing them both. She seemed to realize that they were communicating telepathically. She came around and looked at Dynan’s eyes. “Isn’t that interesting. You’re a telepath.” She turned on Marc and gave him a knowing look. “Told you.”

“Right, which makes him related to conquerors. This makes you happy?”

“Related to who?” Dynan asked.

“Never mind,” Loren said.

“We’ll tell you about that later; when we’re not around other people,” Marc said and gestured them to the door. Dynan wanted to know what they meant, but it was clear he’d have to wait. Marc just shook his head when Dynan asked him silently. He let it go.

Out on the deck, it was easier to feel the slight cant of the ship. The Gailorn plowed through the water under full sail. Really, it was breathtaking, and Dynan took a moment to look around. The river stretched to either side, the shore a distant line marking the horizon. The sails overhead blossomed, propelling the ship across the water. Ropes creaked under the strain.

The crew of the Gailorn watched over their ship, men confident in their abilities. They all stared at Loren, some in amazement, some in shock. Most were shaking their head over it and a few commented on how it seemed no one could control her, not even her future husband. All of it was accompanied by laughter.

Dynan smiled along with them, taking it all as intended. They were all of them half in love with her, which made them pretty much in awe of him. Dynan wondered if he was about to cement that thought while Marc brought over a pair of practice blades.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked Marc, who gave him a sour look. “You don’t mind being humiliated in front of your crew?”

“Right. Like you can,” Marc said.

“I think he’s serious,” Loren said on her way by to take a seat near the railing. Marc only made a face at her. Dynan shrugged.

“You ready?” he asked and got a nod.

It took a minute longer than Dynan anticipated to take the sword out of Marc’s hand. He was a fairly skilled swordsman, but hadn’t had the same kind of intensive training. Before Marc knew what hit him, his sword was gone and he flat on the deck. Dynan pulled the punch, but only just.

For a moment, no one moved, except Loren, who was trying not to laugh. Marc stared at Dynan, honestly surprised because he knew he was a good swordsman and hadn’t expected this to happen quite so fast. He groaned under his breath, and rolled back to his feet.

“You did warn me, didn’t you?” he said, while he shook his head. Dynan handed him back his sword.

“Want to try that again?”

Marc laughed this time. “No. I want to ... hey, Jurdin come here,” he said and handed him the weapon. “I want to see this.”

Jurdin didn’t like that idea at all. Dynan was a little nicer to him, let him stand for just a bit longer, but the end result was the same. Marc swore and helped Jurdin up. “Where did you learn to fight like that?” Jurdin asked while he rubbed his backside.

“Here and there,” Dynan said.

“I think you ought to give lessons,” Jurdin said and collected the weapons to put them away.

Marc was more than willing to admit that Dynan was completely capable of taking care of himself after that. He got them their swords, handing over the one on loan to Dynan. He took Marc’s from him instead, noting the similarities to his own that was back at the house. Marc’s was etched with what looked like the Telaerin crest, except for the sphere in the middle. There were white diamonds encrusted in the hilt, just as there were blue sapphires on Dynan’s. They were identical in shape and construction.

“Maybe we’re related,” Dynan said. “Even though I don’t know how we could be, since no one from my family has ever been here before, back through the Ages, or at least that’s what I was always taught.”

“Except it’s pretty hard to explain otherwise,” Marc said. “We can’t talk about this here. We’re coming up on Brent anyway.”

As he said so, a lookout from the main mast called down. They rounded a narrow bend in the river and ahead, a large, spiraling plume of smoke rose to the sky. Brent was on fire.

As they looked, it became apparent that the blaze had only just started and seemed to swallow a large swath of land back from the river. Marc looked on without any expression, eyes searching the coastline.

“This would have to be the day.”

“What day?” Dynan asked, standing with him at the prow of the ship.

“The day Brent falls to the rebels,” he said, then nodded to the docks as they came into view around another bend.

Swarms of people stood pressed up to the very edge, women, children, their fathers, and families. All of them seeking to escape. The Gailorn was their only way out. Behind them, a line of men in uniform fought to keep an army from reaching the docks. Marc knew he should turn the ship around and avoid the risk of trying to help these people, but he didn’t give the order. He wouldn’t turn his back on them, even when doing so was safer for them all.

The ship approached. Sails were furled amongst the sound of men dying and the increasing fears of the people trapped on the docks. Several were pushed into the water from the crush of those behind. Panic already had a death grip on them. They were past coherent thought, beyond the one singular objective of escape.

Fear had a taste to it, a smell that permeated the ship, the docks, everything. Dynan had been around it, experienced it enough to know it well. They were facing chaos. Somehow they had to control the situation, or none of them would get out of this alive.

“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” Loren whispered, watching as they neared the docks. They were close enough to see faces and the terror mirrored in countless eyes.

“Time for you to get under cover,” Dynan said and moved her to the door of the cabin.

“Marc said he wanted me in the hold.”

Dynan shook his head. “The hold is going to be filled with all those people. You stay in here. Stay away from the windows and lock the door. Are there any medical supplies? Bandages? You’ll want to make more. As many as you can. Go on.” He leaned and kissed her, wishing now that she wasn’t here. “We’ll be all right.”

Loren nodded, went in and bolted the door behind her. When Dynan stooped down to look in through the windows, she was heading for the bunk and the same place she’d hidden this morning. She yanked the covers off the bed, sat down and started ripping the cloth into strips.

Marc was telling his men to get out the ladders, since the one gangplank wouldn’t accommodate all those people without half of them falling in the river. The closer the ship came, the more people got shoved off the docks. Marc ordered the ropes let down for them. At the same time, other sailors were preparing to dock the ship, furling sails so that the ship would slow, coming in at just the right speed so other sailors could swing down and lash off to the nearest piling. Marc ordered the anchor down just enough to drag the ship to a halt. This wasn’t the normal way the Gailorn pulled into Brent.

Dynan watched as a little girl tumbled off the dock, followed instantly by her father, while her mother held on to a piling screaming after them. The ship was right there, no more than a few kem from the dock. There were other people bobbing in the water, grabbing for the lines before the ship came to a stop.

Sailors swung down. People swarmed forward. The ladders went over, followed by the gangplank and the scramble to get on board started. More went in the water, screaming as they went. The little girl was still up, floundering in the churn caused by others. Her father couldn’t get to her through those who sought for the ropes.

Dynan grabbed another line, tied it off and went over the railing. He stopped above the water, reaching for the little girl with his free hand just as she went under. He got her up, sputtering and trying to cry at the same time, and pulled her to him. Some instinct told her she had to hold on, arms wrapping around his neck in a near chokehold. Dynan looked for her father and found him among the other faces because of his relief.

Behind him, another man came through the water from under the dock. Dynan blinked when he realized that the man held a dagger between his teeth. There was another right behind him. There were more, many more, coming from the shadows under the pier toward the Gailorn. And they were killing anyone who got in their way.

Dynan yelled at the girl’s father to hurry. One piling down, a man just reaching the ropes was attacked, his throat cut and he thrown aside by one of the rebels. “Marc, there are thirty armed men down here, coming from under the docks, and maybe ten refugees waiting to climb. Pull the ropes.”

The girl’s father swam toward him, as did the man behind him. Dynan got his sword out about the time the girl realized that her father was going to be stabbed and she started screaming to him. She was too young to be exposed to this sort of fear, a thing that would mark her forever. She didn’t let go and Dynan had to ignore her for the moment. He was also determined that her father would make it, dropped himself down another span, leaned out as far as he could and stabbed the rebel attacker.

Dynan ducked at the same time when peripheral vision caught sight of a dagger thrown at him and instinct responded. It thunked into the hull, barely missing the rope he clung to. The girl’s father reached the ship and another attacker was readying to throw. There wasn’t anything Dynan could do to stop him in time. He turned his body to shield the girl, waiting for it.

An arrow whizzed by him and struck the man through the heart. Dynan looked up and found Marc standing above him, taking aim on the next man, and then the next who dared get anywhere near his ship. Four other sailors rushed the length of the Gailorn, doing the same thing.

The people waiting to escape this terror realized there were attackers beneath them. They pushed away from the edge of the dock, fearing death for anyone who fell in. By this time, the throng had lessened because they were getting on the ship. Those who were pressed up to the edge of the pier were able to step back a pace to relative safety. Dynan saw the girl’s mother reach the gangplank and make it on board.

Jurdin lowered down another line to the girl’s father and he got his feet planted against the ship. Dynan followed him up, barely convincing his passenger that she shouldn’t try to reach for her father. Jurdin and another sailor hauled the lines up as they climbed and they were all back on the ship, safer than they had been.

One of the crew ran by with a fresh quiver of arrows, dumped them, and went on to the next bowman. Marc was still shooting into the water. Dynan got up to look, letting the girl go. He smiled at the reunion, but that disappeared as he watched the encroaching army of men.

The Brent City Guard weren’t able to hold the line against the rebels’ larger numbers. They fell back. They died. Some of them ran. Most stayed, giving those behind them the chance to escape. That plan was working, but it wouldn’t for much longer.

Marc ran out of targets. Dynan turned to him and took the bow and arrow for himself. “These people need to get on board now,” he said, but getting them to move faster than they were wasn’t possible.

Marc went to assist anyway, dreading the thought of having to pull out and leave people behind. He whistled sharply to the two men on the peer, one hand clamped down on the wrist of the other. Both men started unwinding the big lines that anchored the ship to the dock. A few other sailors started cranking the anchor chain back up. Still others started prepping the long poles they would need to get them off the dock.

Dynan turned back to the water and wished he hadn’t. Bodies bobbed beneath the pier, some closer to the ship, some already drifting away with the current. He stopped looking when a young boy stared up at him with frozen eyes. Still it didn’t seem that there were enough bodies. Not enough to account for thirty or so men. He looked as far as he could under the pier, but didn’t see anyone moving. And then Loren was banging on the window beside him and pointing to the other side of the ship.