Dark Blade Read online

  They stood on the side of the road next to a stout looking river boat. A single plank led from the grassy bank aboard, and two men were carrying bales of cloth onto the deck. Faer turned to Captain Lash. “Thank you Captain – I still think we ought to give you something…”

  The captain shook his head. “Go. You have the air of someone on a mission, and I don’t want to stop you. You have a destiny to fulfil. I’m just glad we were able to help you and your friend. Good luck, and may the gods go with you.”

  Markus shook hands with the captain, then Faer embraced him. With one last look back, they boarded. Captain Lace and his squad turned about and returned to the city. Faer stood uncertainly on the deck, mindful of the activity of the deckhands.

  “So you’re the two passengers who want to go south, are you?” a big, shaggy-haired man with stubble asked, his fists planted on his wide leather belt. A bulging stomach hung over the front of the belt.

  “Yes, sir. I hope we’re not in the way.”

  The big man grunted. “I’m Captain Meldus of the Fairflow, a beautiful craft even though I say so myself.” He eyed the weather beaten vessel, the worn planks, rails and dirty grey sail. “A finer boat you’ll not find on the upper reaches of this river. Now if you two don’t mind, we’re about to set sail. Your quarters are below. Fanz here will show you where they are.” He waved a thin, gangly individual forward who curtly gestured to the two to follow him to a square hatch where a ladder led down to a dark hold. He waved the two down, then followed, a lantern in his hand.

  At the bottom the smell of old wood, stagnant water and ordure filled their senses. Faer grimaced to Markus who rolled his eyes. Fanz pointed aft. A bulkhead stood there, approximately underneath the stern deck where the steering oar and captain’s deck stood. A door was set in the middle. “Your room,” the deckhand grunted and passed Markus the lantern. He left.

  Faer shrugged and opened the door inwards. A small, cramped room lay behind it with two narrow cots, one to either side. Underneath were storage spaces. A bucket stood against the far wall in the middle and that was it.

  They put their packs on the cots, Faer choosing the right hand one. “Not quite up to the standard of the Lace household,” Markus observed.

  “Oh we were lucky there! I’m used to this sort of thing. Aren’t you?”

  Markus nodded. “My house was slightly better than yours though.” He sat on his cot and looked at her. “No point in going up until we’re underway. We’d only get in their way.”

  Faer paused, then sat down on her cot. She put her arms round herself. Boats she didn’t really like – they reminded her too much of Selanic.

  “What do you hope to do once you get to Kaltinar?”

  Faer shrugged. “Father seemed to indicate I was to train in swordsmanship. I think he wanted me to become a warrior. Me, a warrior! Ha!”

  Markus made a non-committal gesture with his hands. “Why not? It’d help protect you. Aren’t elves meant to be skilled with the sword?”

  “I have no idea, Markus. But warriors – they’re big strong men, not skinny little girls like me. It’s a silly idea.”

  Her companion shook his head. “You need to do something. You look lost. I’ve seen that look on others in the village who don’t know what they want to do. Become a warrior, Faer, and nobody will ever make fun of you ever again.” He lay down on his cot and looked up at the wooden beamed ceiling. “As for me, nobody has asked me what I want to do.”

  Faer lay down and propped herself up on one elbow. “So what do you want to do? You’ve followed me all this way so far, but you’ve not said a word what you wish to do.”

  Markus puffed out his cheeks. “I’ve seen things in Gorradan that interest me. Merchants, selling things. In Selanic we don’t have anything like that. I’d like to make a living selling something I was good at.”

  “What – fish?”

  “Ugh, please!” Markus looked at Faer who smiled. “Oh, you tease!” He threw his pillow, a soggy misshapen object, at her. It struck her on the head.

  “Ow, you bully!” she picked hers up and whacked him on the head.

  Next moment it was torn from her grasp and she was subjected to an assault. Squealing she grabbed his pillow, lying on her cot, and tried to defend herself but his greater size and strength beat her back and she lay on her cot pleading for mercy.

  Markus finally relented and pushed the pillow onto her head one last time and retrieved his pillow from the floor. “There! That taught you.”

  Faer giggled on her cot underneath the sagging pillow. Markus grinned and lifted a corner, peering at her. She poked her tongue at him, then squealed a sorry as he raised the pillow for another beating.

  Laughing the two fell back on their cots. Faer sighed and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I haven’t laughed so much since I left the village, in fact I don’t think I really laughed there at all.”

  “No I don’t ever remember you laughing – or even smiling. You always looked so sad.”

  “Are you surprised?” Faer stared at the ceiling for a moment, then leaned on one elbow again. “I know it’s only a few days since mother passed away, but since I’ve left Selanic I’ve felt a different person. Mother’s part of that place, and it might sound cold but I’m glad I’ve put that all behind me. My life is out here, whatever course it takes. I’ll remember mother in my own way and not in a sad way, either. I think she’d be happy for me if she could see me now.”

  “Yes I think she would be. My parents wouldn’t be, though,” Markus frowned. “And they’re alive! They’re typical of that village; hidebound and close-minded. Oh,” he added, glancing at the floor, “we’re under way.”

  The boat heeled over and swung round. The two looked at one another, then got up. They climbed the ladder to the deck and emerged, looking round. The crew were busy at their posts, securing ropes, stowing cargo or steering, and the main deck was largely free of people. They found a free spot on the port side, the side nearest the road, and peered aft at the receding walls of Gorradan.

  “Well now,” Captain Meldus said loudly, startling them, “seeing that you’re on deck, I think it’s time we had a little talk. Come up here.” He waved to the two to join him on the poop deck, a small raised area with enough space for the oarsman, the captain and a couple of others. It was accessed by a single ladder from the main deck, seven wide planked steps. The captain gave the two young passengers the benefit of a long, considered examination. “Well, well, what have we here? Two kids, if my eyes don’t deceive me. The good Captain in the city must think a lot of you, calling in a favour to transport you two young ones upriver.”

  “Captain, we are travelling to the Blade Mountain.”

  Meldus raised an eyebrow. “Well, bless my soul! So far? Never sailed there myself of course, but it’s a place of legend. Want to make a legend of your own? Ah well, none of my concern. We’re sailing three days upriver to Portris, a town astride the river. You’ll need to find another boat to take you on. You got any coin?”

  “Don’t worry, Captain,” Markus said, “we’ll find a way of securing a journey onwards from Portris.”

  “What is the town like?” Faer asked.

  “Busy, or at least the port is. Big river barrier there. See, the land rises there and it’s hard for vessels to go up that far. Smaller boats do, but one this size can’t. Too many narrows, rapids and other hazards,” he grinned. “Beyond Portris the river narrows and it gets hilly. I’ve traded this river for fifteen years between the two and I’m well known in both town and city. You know of a place to stay? A couple of taverns I could recommend, but it’s a bit rough.” He looked over Faer’s shoulder and tutted. “Hey, Ramyis,” he shouted to a thickset man carrying a bucket across the deck. “Over the side, the contents, not the bucket...oh Fanz, tell him will ya?”

  All turned to see the thickset man being intercepted by the gangly crewman and pushed to the rail roughly.

  “What’s the matter with him?” Faer as
ked, intrigued.

  “Not got a full set up top,” the captain said, prodding his own head. When he saw the puzzled looks of the two youngsters, he tutted again. “Not quite with it? Slow?”

  “Oh,” Faer said suddenly understanding. “Simple.”

  “Yes, that’s it. Simple. Hard worker, but you can’t tell him to do more than one thing. Give him a simple job to do and he’ll do it all day long without a complaint – which is more than can be said for the rest of these lazy dogs,” he growled, glaring at two of the crew leaning on the rail laughing at Ramyis. “You stowed everything away, you two?”

  The two crewmen nodded and peeled away from the rail, trying unsuccessfully to look busy. Captain Meldus shook his head sadly. “Youngsters these days – they have no respect for hard work and their elders. And you two? Do you respect your elders?”

  “Oh yes, sir,” both chorused.

  “Hmm. We’ll see if that’s true or not. Now, I don’t want you two to get in the way of any of my crew. You stay on the main deck unless I ask you up here. Once we get to Portris you either go below or stay clear of the unloading.”

  The two nodded, eager to keep on the good side of the big captain.

  “Hmm, very well. Now, young lady, I’ve not had a good look at you yet. Hope you don’t mind, but I’ve not seen one of the elf blood before with your colouring. Quite eye catching, if I may say so myself.”

  Faer lowered her eyes, not sure how to react.

  “Now now, young lady, no need to look away. I mean no offence. It’s just that a man of my age and experience doesn’t often encounter something or someone new, and you’ve certainly piqued my interest. Care to indulge an ageing man’s curiosity? Where do you come from?”

  Faer told him. She also told him of her mother’s recent passing, and the fact she did not know who her father had been. She decided not to say anything more. Markus kept silent by her side.

  Captain Meldus sighed. “Ah well, I was hoping for some adventure story. Saying that though, you have the feel of people going on one of your own. Shan’t get in your way in that case. Who knows, one day folk may speak of the dark-skinned elf girl who once passed this way.”

  Faer glanced at Markus who raised both eyebrows and smirked briefly. She bowed to the captain. “Thank you, Captain. We’ll try not to make a nuisance of ourselves.”

  “Good, try to keep to that. So, please leave me to the running of this vessel. Tomorrow you’ll see something wondrous to your young eyes,” he ended enigmatically, tapping the side of his nose.

  The two returned to the main deck. “Wonder what he meant by that?” Markus asked.

  “Don’t know,” Faer replied. They went to the rail where three crewmen were poking fun at Ramyis who was looking in confusion from one to the other. They were giving him countermanding orders and the simple crewman was getting distressed.

  “Why are you making fun of him?” Faer asked. “Just because he’s different? You should be ashamed of yourselves.”

  “Oh it’s just a bit of fun,” one said, eyeing her up and down with interest.

  “Fun for you maybe, but not for Ramyis. What is he to do next?”

  Fanz sniffed. “Cleaning the deck.”

  “So tell him and let him do his job.” Faer faced the three crewmen defiantly.

  “Cap’n won’t want you to interfere, girl.”

  “My concern isn’t interfering with crew’s duty,” she countered, “but in stopping you mocking the poor man.”

  “Sweet on the idiot, are you? Your intellectual level is he?” the other crewman sniggered.

  Faer frowned, not quite understanding what they were inferring. She took the simple crewman by the arm and smiled at him. “Ramyis, do you know you are to clean the deck?”

  Ramyis looked at her blankly, his lower lip sagging. Dull eyes looked at her.

  “Ramyis, clean the deck?” Faer repeated softly.

  The man suddenly grinned, showing he had about half his teeth left. “Clean. Deck. Ramyis do.” He shuffled off.

  “Well I’ll be damned,” one of the crewmen looked at the half-elf in surprise. “You got the touch with him. Takes us ages to get him to do anything usually.”

  “You ought to try being more patient with the poor man. He does jobs none of you’d like, so give him a little more respect.” She turned her back on the three and stalked over to Markus who was standing against the main mast, arms folded.

  As she walked away, the first of the crewmen eyed her bottom. “Hmm, want some of that elf flesh. Cute, ripe. Bet she’s not had a man before. Ought to be fun.”

  “Hands off, Certel, she’s a paying passenger. Cap’n’d have you flayed if he caught ya.”

  “Don’t count on gettin’ caught. You two see to her boyfriend there, get ‘im drunk or something. I’ll see to her alright. Should fetch a nice set of scratches down me back. Show ‘em off to the boys in the tavern.”

  “One of these days, Certel.” Fanz shook his head. “My advice is to leave this one alone – she’s different.”

  Certel chuckled. “She’ll be different by the time she leaves this bucket.”

  Oblivious of the crewman’s intentions, Faer led Markus to the bow where they leaned on the rail and peered forward. She liked the feel of the wind in her hair, and it ruffled up and down with the varying strength of the breezes. Markus looked forward and saw an expanse of grassland running away from the river. “It’s different from the sea breezes,” he said conversationally. “Sea breezes are stronger.”

  “Mmm,” Faer responded, still annoyed at the crew’s behaviour. After a while she turned round. “I’m going below. Coming?”

  “No, I want to stay here awhile. Don’t like being on deck?”

  “Not with those idiots,” she jerked her thumb towards the crewmen who were now sat on upturned buckets, peeling vegetables. “They make me feel uncomfortable.” She went to the hatch and descended to the hold. Ramyis was down there, scrubbing the floor. He smiled at her as she passed and Faer smiled back. “Good work, Ramyis,” she said slowly.

  “Yes, good. Ramyis work.”

  Faer patted the man on the shoulder and went to her room.

  On the deck Fanz sauntered over to Markus. “The boys were wond’rin’ if you’d like to join us tonight for a drink or two? We don’t often get passengers to brighten our days up you know.”

  “And Faerowyn?”

  “Naw, girls don’t drink. They get all embarrassin’. Best she sleeps while we enjoys ourselves.”

  Markus looked doubtful.

  Fanz shrugged. “What can happen? You share our bottle, we swap stories, we have a laugh. Just a coupla hours then you can go to bed and sleep it off.”

  “Well, alright,” Markus gave in. He felt a little guilty that Faer wasn’t invited, but he certainly didn’t know of any woman that drank. In Selanic the men drank, not the women.

  That evening Markus waited until Faer had settled down and gone to sleep; her breathing became even and deep, and he crept out of his bunk and climbed to the deck. The evening air was warm and the stars were out all over the sky. The crew were mostly asleep or at their posts. Only Fanz and Certel were on deck, sat on the upturned buckets, sharing a bottle.

  Markus joined them. “Where’s your friend?”

  “Oh, on duty on the oar,” Fanz jerked a thumb up towards the rear. “He can’t drink, not while on duty. Here,” he offered the bottle to the passenger. Markus took it gingerly; he’d had a few swigs in the village of the sailor’s beverages, and that had been strong. He wondered what to expect. It was rough and harsh and he choked.

  Certel laughed and slapped him on the back. “Takes a bit of getting used to,” he said. “Have a couple more and it’ll be fine by then.” He exchanged a knowing look with Fanz.

  Markus downed a couple more swigs and passed the bottle back, trying not to choke. His head began to swim. “Oh, that’s strong stuff,” he managed to say before falling off his bucket.

  “Ha ha, stupid kid,
knew he wouldn’t be able to handle the good stuff. Now make sure he don’t come round. I’m off to initiate that bitch downstairs. Won’t be too long.”

  Fanz sat on his bucket watching the sleeping Markus while Certel slowly climbed down to the bottom, unfastening his trousers. He prided himself on his seduction abilities, but he wasn’t interested this time in persuasion. This was going to be a rough taking and to the gods with the consequences. A dark skinned elf blood virgin! He’d dine out on this one for years.

  The door opened and he looked at the sleeping girl. Smiling, he slowly peeled back the blanket, revealing the slight form covered in a night shirt. Her legs were uncovered and he licked his lips at the prospect of parting them and satisfying himself. He dropped his trousers and underwear and kicked them off. Now, now he was going to take her. He clamped her mouth with one meaty hand and slid onto her.

  Faer was awake in an instant, eyes wide. She struggled but the man was much heavier than she and he was pulling her legs apart. She had no idea what was going on but some instinct told her to keep them together as much as possible. She fought and writhed but Certel was slowly forcing her legs apart, an evil grin all over his face. He was calling her obscene names, cursing her over and over and telling her he was going to have her.

  Faer scratched him, and he brought his other arm over to block her flailing arms. A shape filled the doorway and a sudden blow stopped Certel. He flopped onto her, no longer forcing her legs apart. His hand slipped from her mouth, lifeless. She looked up.

  Ramyis stood there, a mallet in one hand. “No hurt miss. Miss kind to Ramyis.”

  Faer gasped and heaved. Certel fell onto the floor at the simpleton’s feet. “Ramyis good,” she managed to say, sitting up, wiping her mouth and clamping her legs together.

  “Yes, Ramyis help miss.”

  Faer got up and put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Thank you, Ramyis. Thank you.”

  “Miss kind to Ramyis.”

  Faer hugged Ramyis and the simpleton squeezed her back, grinning. Dribble oozed from his slack mouth but Faer cared little for that. Where was Markus? “My friend – where is he?”