Dragonstone (Eligium Series Book 3) Page 7

  “Get off the ship? What are you talking about?”

  Krystelle moved back to the door, listening. “They have locked us in, no doubt they are hoping we will not realize what they are until too late.”

  “Too late? Too late for what?”

  “Sebastian, did you not see their tattoos and the ensign flying on the mainmast? This ship hails from Cale Druenenn!”

  “Cale Druenenn! You mean this is a slaver’s ship?”

  “That is exactly what I mean.”

  “If you knew all that why did you go along with coming here?” he was panicking. Stories of cruelty and barbarism abounded when it came to Druenenn pirates.

  “I went along with it because it was the only way I could see to get off that island without getting our throats slit. The only reason we are not already in chains is because they think you are a full knight of Gabirel. I bought us some time there, but they will grow emboldened the further we are from friendly shores.”

  “We’ve got to get off this ship!”

  “Yes, I believe I said that. Not now though. They are busy preparing the ship to set sail. Once we are underway, the crew will settle in and that will give us our opportunity. I’m not sleeping one night on a slave ship and I have no intention of being put up for sale on a block in Cale Druenenn. Besides, we have an appointment in Cale Uriasz…and now we have a way to get there.”

  Waiting for Krystelle to give the go-ahead for their escape was excruciating. For a time they occupied themselves outlining their plan, but all they could do was wait. Sitting in silence, Sebastian jumped at every sound, fearing that the slavers were coming for them. After the tenth time his twitch at a stray noise in the corridor also caused Krystelle to jump, she exploded. “Calm yourself!” she said in a loud whisper. “They will not be coming for us tonight. They believe us lulled into complacency at the relief of being rescued and have no idea who they are. We have nothing to fear unless you bring attention to us.”

  Sebastian counseled himself to silence, feeling the ship beneath him and trying to find a restful place. He imaged a grand battle between himself and the pirates until he remembered what had happened on the Gull the last time he had drifted into a waking dream. Focusing his attention on the movement of the ship, he could feel his pulse pick up. Bad idea. His stomach, still full of rat from their dinner, protested.

  Krystelle came to his rescue. “It is time,” she said, rising to her feet. “Bring your sword and the trunk. We must abandon the rest.”

  He gathered up the chest and joined her at the door. Handing it to her for a moment, he wiped the sweat from his palms on his breeches and licked his lips. As they had discussed, he visualized the outside of the door and the latch holding it closed. In his mind’s eye he watched as the latch lifted from its catch, striving to align reality to his will. With an explosion of air, he released the breath he had been holding. He reached out to try the door. Nothing.

  “What is wrong?”

  “I’m not very good at this. I’ve never tried to use magic, it just happens. Are you sure there’s no other way?”

  “Just concentrate Sebastian. You can do this. I believe in you.”

  In any other circumstance, hearing those words from her would have thrilled him. Now, it made him more nervous. He wiped the sweat from his brow and laid one hand on the door, closing his eyes and returning to the vision. Once again, he watched the latch lift from its place, but he knew it was only a vision in his mind. He forced the vision out, to where he wasn’t sure. It was just out. As the vision moved from a mental construct to something outside of himself, it took on a substance it had not had before. Moments later he took the chest back from Krystelle and pushed the door open. Their first gamble had worked.

  Stealing their way back onto the deck, he peaked out to see the few crew members on duty lounging around the wheelhouse paying more attention to a game of dice than to anything happening on deck. “I think the way is clear,” he said.

  Krystelle followed him out across the deck to the relative safety of a pile of rigging next to the dinghy that had brought them aboard and subsequently been hoisted back up onto the deck. He examined the mechanism used to lower the boat. “Can you make it work?” Krystelle asked.

  “I can. It is much like a winch we used on the farm shop in Taleros. That was much smaller, but it worked the same.” Reaching out he untied the line securing the little boat that would be their escape. No sooner had he released the line, the dinghy slipped out of its berth, crashing to the deck. The noise would have woken the dead and even the languid sailors at the stern couldn’t miss the commotion.

  Within moments the crew had them surrounded. They were still wondering whether to fight when Nicjo came storming onto the deck. “And just where do you think you’re going Krystelle Mora and Sebastian No-name? Most folk would have been so relieved at their rescue they’d not notice anything, but not you. Who are you?”

  She drew herself up in the face of the towering pirate, “Just who we said, and we know who you are.”

  “Oh you do, do you?”

  “We know enough,” she retorted. “And I give you fair warning now. Aid us or face the wrath of the Knights of Gabirel.”

  A deep laugh welled up from Nicjo’s belly. “Gabirel’s wrath? I hear the Krenon and the Dark Wizard handed your knights their arses.”

  “Quiet Nicjo,” a new pirate stalked up next to the slaver. “Krystelle Mora and Sebastian Pwyll. Oh, don’t look so surprised, I know just who you are. The bounty on you will fetch me a pretty penny when we turn you over to Sterling Lex at Cinaeth. Oh, yes we will join the great Wizard in his battle to cast down the weak-willed ones in power in your little kingdom. I am Captain Tiriaq and this is my ship. Mark me well, I will be one who takes many slaves when we march on your capital. Nicjo, irons on these two. I’ll not have them trying to escape again.”

  Nicjo’s toothy grin took on an ugly pallor as he approached Sebastian. Looking about the deck, Sebastian considered his options. The slavers were armed with a variety of cruel looking knives, an occasional sword, plus a smattering of cudgels. Attempting to fight their way out would be suicidal. For the briefest of moments he considered trying to use his burgeoning magical skills and discarded the idea almost as fast. It was all so unreliable and closing his eyes to focus did not seem a good plan.

  He could see the resolve and fire in Krystelle’s eyes, and then he watched it fade ever so slightly as she came to the same conclusions he had about their situation. This was the scenario they had hoped to avoid, and the reason she had not provoked a confrontation back on their island.

  A bedraggled pirate ran up to Nicjo, a pair of chains dangling from his hands. Seeing the situation under control, the captain detailed a small group to stay with Nicjo and help watch over the prisoners until they had them chained. Strutting over to Sebastian, Nicjo yanked Sebastian’s arm behind him, and slapped the first iron on his right wrist. Tightening down the screws he kept going until the metal dug into the flesh on either side. It was all Sebastian could do to keep from gasping at the agony generated by the pressure of the manacle. Satisfied, Nicjo grabbed his other arm and repeated the procedure, locking down both iron cuffs, ensuring Sebastian could not work them free. “That should keep ye,” Nicjo smirked.

  Turning to Krystelle, he raked his gaze down the full length of her body. Licking his lips, he sauntered over to her, collecting the second pair of irons. Leaning in, he got closer to Krystelle than he had Sebastian, much closer, and grabbed her arm. “Now I can take care of you little lady.” Pulling her in close, he extended his tongue and slobbered it across her cheek.

  Two of the guards took hold of Sebastian as he lunged forward, “Keep away from her!”

  Nicjo glared back at him, “Quiet you!” Krystelle took advantage of the distraction, slamming her knee into the pirate’s groin with all her might. Nicjo doubled over with pain, “You little bitch!” One hand holding his balls he backhanded Krystelle, sending her flying across the deck. S
he crashed into a pile of rope and lay there, motionless.

  Inside Sebastian’s head everything went black and red. A haze rose in front of his eyes and he shook off the two guards still holding his arms as magic filled him. A pulse of power burst from his body, sending the pirates flying backward. One crashed into the mast and the other fell overboard from the impact. Looking down at the iron cuffs encircling his wrists, he clenched both fists and pulled. The irons split apart at the bindings, dropping to the deck and freeing him. Sebastian advanced towards Nicjo, when another pirate charged from the side. Extending an arm, Sebastian released a stream of fire that caught the pirate full in the chest, killing. Filled with fury he towered over Nicjo, who lay on the ground nursing his injury. Hauling back, Sebastian pounded his fist into the man’s face, crushing it with an impact more akin to a blacksmith’s hammer.

  More pirates closed on the boy as he turned to help Krystelle. He waved an arm at the closest group and all three collapsed, dead where they stood. Captain Tiriaq joined his men on the deck and called out to them to hold, making a sign to ward off evil spirits. “What are you?” he said, with a quiver in his voice. “No, don’t you answer that. Take the woman and the longboat. Be on your way. We won’t hinder you. Just don’t kill any more of my crew!”

  Ignoring the man, Sebastian knelt down next to Krystelle and laid his hand on her neck. A pulse! He slid one arm under her knees, the other behind her back, and draped her arm around his own neck. Rising, he turned back towards the boat they had been planning to steal. Several crew members had righted the craft and were loading it with provisions. One glanced up at Sebastian and made the sign to ward off evil spirits. Setting Krystelle on a blanket near the bow of the longboat, Sebastian loaded Aedelric’s chest and climbed in himself.

  The pirates lowered their craft down to the water and Sebastian cast off the lines. Placing the oars in the oarlocks he applied all his energy to increasing the distance between them and the slaver’s vessel. Watching the lights on the ship dwindle into the distance, he continued to feed his anger. Anger at what the ship represented. Anger at Sterling Lex. Anger at what the pirate, Nicjo, had done to Krystelle. She lay unconscious near the bow.

  He felt the anger as a fire in his bones. Closing his eyes and clenching his fists he struggled to control himself. In the back of his mind he felt Stretch’s now familiar presence. Reaching out, he shared the raw emotion he felt with the young dragon and felt Stretch respond in kind. Sebastian looked across the water at the pirate ship and imagined it bursting into flames as Stretch drew near.

  The dragon swooped out of the night sky and Sebastian watched the pirates scramble across the deck in fear, several diving over the side to escape. On his next pass, Stretch exhaled a burst of fire and the ship exploded into flames. Sebastian watched as a few more members of the crew leapt into the sea, bodies aflame. Within moments the ship slipped below the surface, leaving only a few burning embers to float on the waves. Satisfied, Sebastian returned to his rowing. Silently he thanked Stretch as the dragon circled their raft once and flew off into the darkness.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Sebastian woke the next morning draped over the oars. He had rowed himself to exhaustion and collapsed. The sun was a hand-breath above the horizon and in the distance he could see a flock of seabirds wheeling across the sky. Stowing the oars, he pulled a jug of water from the supplies the slavers had loaded aboard the longboat the previous night. He took a swig and reflected on how he felt about everything that had happened. It made him sick to think about what he had done to the pirates, using magic in that way. He had let his anger and rage get the better of him and he resolved to do better controlling his emotions in the future.

  Carrying his jug, he moved to the bow of the longboat to check on Krystelle. Propping her up, he poured a trickle of water into her mouth. She swallowed involuntarily, but otherwise there was no response from the comatose woman. Tearing a strip of cloth from his shirt, Sebastian doused it with water to wipe her brow. Her eyes flickered open. She eked out a single word, “Sebastian?”

  “Rest easy, we made it to the boat. We’re safe now.”

  Lifting a hand to her head, Krystelle used her other arm to mover herself to a sitting position. Stretching out her arm, “Water,” she croaked. He helped her bring the jug to her parched lips, trickling a steady stream of the water into her mouth.

  “Go slowly and hold it in your mouth before you swallow.” Once he was satisfied that Krystelle was out of danger, Sebastian busied himself sorting through their supplies. His first discovery was a set of short poles made of some wood he did not recognize, wrapped up in a piece of old sailcloth. The poles were a tan color and had joins every few inches that reminded him of knuckles. The wood was uniform in diameter along its length and had a smooth texture although they did not appear to have been worked to achieve those qualities. He had never seen wood like this before and Sebastian assumed that they had grown that way.

  Untying the package, he sat for a moment wondering what its purpose was as it had been placed in the boat for a reason. He was about to set it aside and continue his inventory when he noticed a set of round holes drilled in the gunwales of the boat. Seeing them gave him an idea. He took four of the poles and inserted them into the holes. They fit and he decided his hunch was correct. Using the remaining poles and the rope he created a frame for the sailcloth, which he lashed in place with the rest of the rope. Scuttling back toward the bow, he evaluated his handiwork. They now had a passable shelter to protect them from the heat of the day.

  “Come on now, let’s get you into the shade.” Placing his arm under Krystelle’s and around her back, he helped her into the lean-to and settled her down on one bench. “There now, that’s better. You have more of that water. Drink up now, it won’t do you any good in the jug.” Obediently, she raised it to her mouth and took a swig.

  “What happened? All I remember is that pig of a sailor, Nicjo. His breath stank like a sty.”

  “He pressed himself on you, and you…reacted.”

  “Reacted?”

  “You crushed his…” Sebastian turned bright red as he trailed off.

  “Oh,” she laughed. “Ow. It hurts to laugh. What happened then?”

  “Well he hit you. Hard. You went down and you weren’t moving. I couldn’t bear it. I tapped into the magic again to free myself. It took over, and I let it. I killed several of the pirates with flame and power.” He trailed off describing how Captain Tiriaq had sent them off with the boat loaded down with supplies.

  “And that’s it?” Krystelle asked. “They let us sail off.” Sebastian squirmed at that question. “What? Did something else happen?”

  “After we got clear I couldn’t stop thinking about what they would do if I let them go. It made me so angry. Somehow I called out to Stretch, and he knew how angry I was. He came and attacked the ship. He set it afire, and it sank!”

  “Sebastian!”

  He leaned back against the wood planking and reached out his arm for the water jug. Krystelle waited as he worked his way back through everything that had happened with the pirates. “I know I shouldn’t be so glad, but I am. And I’ll not deny it. There’s something else that bothers me and I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

  “I can. You shouldn’t be this strong. It takes years and years of discipline to master the magical arts and you keep going forward in leaps and bounds. It doesn’t sit well with me.”

  “You know, I never wanted any of this. Until I met you that day by the river I thought magic done and gone with the Ban, and good riddance. Now, no matter what path I find myself on I keep having to use magic to survive. I don’t know if I want any of it.”

  “Sebastian, you were born with this. It’s part of who you are and I don’t think you can just walk away.”

  “Don’t I get a choice?”

  “We all have choices to make. Yours is what you will do with the gift you’ve been given. What you did in sinking that boat was something Ste
rling Lex would have done. The world already has one of him and it does not need another.”

  Uncomfortable, Sebastian turned away from her and continued rummaging in the supplies. He could see they were well-stocked for a journey of many days and said as much to Krystelle. “They’ve left us with a good store of rations here.”

  “No doubt after seeing what you did on that deck they feared incurring more wrath. Is there anything there for navigation?”

  He ignored the reference to his magic. “Aye, there’s a compass and sextant, but I don’t know how to use them.”

  “Well I do. Mount us up a sail and I’ll reckon a course to the islands as best I can. They should still lie east of us and even if we don’t strike Uriasz we can follow the island chain once we find it.”

  It did not take long for Sebastian to rig a makeshift sail. As the wind filled it, they set off towards Cale Uriasz, sun rising into the clear sky. It was well into the afternoon when Sebastian’s eyes grew heavy. “Rest a while,” said Krystelle. “I will keep us on course.” Without a word of protest he crawled under their lean-to and fell deeply asleep.

  The dream was different this time. Sebastian soared high over the countryside at a pace he had not known possible. He could feel the giddiness deep in his gut and it tickled him the way talking with Genette had when he’d dropped by the inn growing up in Taleros to visit the lass while his uncle was about his errands in the village. Not that she’d ever given him much in the way of encouragement. She had her eye on the soldiers that came to town twice a year to guard the taxmen for the king.

  The river he followed widened into a clear blue lake and he could feel the moisture on his face. Looking down, he saw his own image reflected in the water surface. How had he not known he was a dragon? Dipping down, he let his toes drag in the water, casting up a fantail behind him. Lifting off, he banked toward the distant mountains. He could feel something calling to him from the far side.