Chaos Storm (The Flight of the Griffin Book 2) (27 page)

Fighting for height with lumbering beats of her wings,
The Griffin
circled the rooftops of Mayhem - her passengers too cold and tired to gaze down at the twinkling lights from lanterns and fires of the city - they were exhausted, but they had the skulls.

* * *

The Flight back to
The Esmerelda
had been bitterly cold, exhausting and at times terrifying. They had stopped to wrap and tend wounds. Mahra's injuries weren't as bad as they had first feared, most of the blood having come from those she had bitten. Finding nowhere suitable to rest they had flown on despite their exhaustion. It was always a little alarming flying on the back of the great mythical beast, but after their run through Bedlam and Mayhem and the subsequent nerve wracking experiences at the Chaos Temple, there a real danger was of one of them simply falling asleep and then dropping to their deaths. By the time they had returned and Quint got around to picking up the 'Book of Challenges,' they had slept for nearly six turns of the glass and had just eaten their first decent meal in days. The crew of
The Esmerelda
hadn't received any word from Bartholomew and seemed delighted that their captain was still absent and possibly, or even hopefully, was lost or had been captured.

'Longer he's gone the better,' one sailor mumbled as he cleared their plates away. 'Miserable old bugger can freeze his fat arse off for all we care. Pig of a man 'e is!' He grinned nervously then shrugged his shoulders, 'Well he is. You've met him… not like it's a secret is it.'

Pardigan thought this was funny and started to perform a few well-practised Bartholomew Bask impersonations. This entailed stuffing a cushion up his jerkin then waddling up and down whilst filling his mouth with bread as fast as he could and making strange
'Harrumphing'
sounds. Bartholomew's crew loved it, and he was requested to repeat it several times, which he did with various different arrangements on the theme.

It was while a grinning Quint was sipping at his after dinner brew that he remembered to fumble the 'Book of Challenges' from his jerkin. The moment he flipped it open, he saw the hastily scrawled message from Tarent and jumped up spilling his brew as his hand came down on the table with a bang to stop the noise and general hilarity in the room.

'
Pardigan… Pardigan… quiet!
They made it! They're on their way back. We'll be leaving here soon now, in a couple of days.' Then he remembered Bartholomew's crew and stood up. He gazed about at their startled and in some cases stricken faces. 'Oh, right… well, I'm sorry to say it but your Captain is coming back.' There were sounds of annoyance and several suggestions that they just cast off and leave before he showed his face on deck, but they had shipmates with him that they wouldn't abandon, so it was all just empty threats.

'Well,' said Pardigan, 'I think that ol' Bartholomew would be so incredibly grateful you decided to wait for him, that he would want you to open the ships stores and have a party to celebrate his return.' A big smile appeared on his face. He stood, readjusted the cushion and started munching furiously on a bread roll. The crew perked up ready for a new performance.

'Now then lads… me lovely, wonderful crew!' pieces of bread sprayed out of Pardigan's mouth as he bellowed, transformed once more into Bartholomew Bask, Merchant and ship's Captain.

'I be's so delighted that you loyal scum decided not to go prancing off with me big fat ship, so's I am, that I wants yer all ter help yerselves to anything in me own personal and very private stores.' The crew were rolling about in hysterics as Pardigan marched up and down wobbling his huge belly.

'What, even yer special stores with yer preserves n sweet meats, Captain?' called a seaman as he stood up to offer a very mocking salute.

'Oh, especially me sweet delights, I insists… and the berry wine, and of course I would be taking it as a deep n personal insult if yers didn't completely empty the ship of Eldar ale afor I returns. Twould be a mighty sad ship that sailed with a storeroom full of me private goodies after yers all been so good n loyal. Off with yer lads, let us party like there's a Barbarian army gunna take it if'n yer don't, now get on wiv yer.' He flapped his arms, shooing them on, then scowled around at everyone, his bottom lip pushed out, bits of soggy bread falling from his chin and his thumbs hooked into imaginary braces as he wobbled his belly, shaking it from side to side…
well… go… on then!
'

The crew didn't need much more of an invitation, as one they ran from the cabin, cheering and whooping in delight as if Bartholomew really had offered them full access to his private stores.

'Oh, you are going to get into so much trouble Pardigan,' said Mahra, but she was smiling all the same.

'Probably, but never mind, I am a thief and technically it's not me doing the actual thieving this time, is it, eh?' Maybe he had gone a bit too far, but it was Bartholomew and he did so love performing for an audience. 'Oh, well,' he sighed and pulled the cushion from its place. With a smile, he trotted after the crew, to see what Bartholomew had been keeping under lock and key.

* * *

Bartholomew, of course, was furious. It had taken them all of three further days to return to
The Esmerelda
. By the time the bedraggled travellers had started to settle in and even before the ship had cleared the harbour for open sea, Bartholomew had discovered the desecration of his personal stores and ordered three seamen to the brig, another two for a long stint of watch in the crow's nest at the top of the main mast and given Pardigan the 'evil eye' the moment the two had crossed paths. Pardigan wisely chose to back away and return to his cabin until Bartholomew had calmed down a little.

Once clear of the anchorage and out in open water, the great trading ship was able to raise all sails and make good speed as the prevailing wind was now set firmly to her aft. With the
Black Destiny
now trailing magically behind, she forged through the waves, leaping and plunging in a spray of white foam, with everyone aboard eager to put as much distance between them and the Barbarian coast as possible.

After two days of sailing,
The Esmerelda
had travelled sufficiently south to be beyond the mountain barrier of the Massif range,
The Griffin
was called, and they made ready to depart for Deniah. As they gathered on deck, looking for their first sight of her, a breathless Elisop clambered from the hatchway and tripped, spilling the franticly clutched scrolls and maps he had been carrying across the deck. Mahra and Quint started to pick them up, but he shooed them away irritably.

'I require passage on your beast.' He cast a wary sidelong glance at the sky as if fearing it would descend and drop on him any second. 'I have vital news for the King's ears only and wish to suffer another flight, I don't particularly want to, but I must.' He shuddered and then made a grab for a piece of paper that was being blown towards the side rail. 'My information has vital implications for the defence of the King's Realm.'

Pardigan stared down at the little agent and then across at Quint who was also trying to grapple with the idea of another flight with Elisop and also what vital information he can possibly have got that they didn't already know. Pardigan stuck his tongue out and crossed his eyes, then put his index finger to his temple and twirled it. 'He's crazy,' he mouthed silently across to Quint. 'I think he's been drinking seawater!'

Quint coughed to draw Elisop's attention, lest he catch sight of the grinning Pardigan. 'Alright, I suppose you can come, but in Deniah we part company, that's as far as we go together, all right?'

Elisop nodded and then clutched once more at his papers as with great beats of her wings that flapped the sails and made everyone scatter for space,
The Griffin
descended onto the deck bellowing out a raucous 'kaauw!' as she did.

'
The Griffin
can't carry us all,' said Mahra as she eyed the scrolls and bags that Elisop wanted to bring, and then shot an anxious look to Magician Falk who was obviously unhappy about flying again.

'I'll fly on my own, it will be good to stretch my wings, and it's going to be cramped enough on
The Griffin
.'

Led by Quint they clambered up onto the huge beasts back with Magician Falk gripping Quint around the waist in a fierce hug while Tarent held onto the squirming Elisop. Loras and Pardigan were forced to take up the rear positions and immediately began an argument about which should take the last, most precarious spot over
The Griffin's
tail. It was finally decided that it should be Loras as he was less likely to fall off and best able to do something about it if he did.

'What are you all saying?' asked Pardigan after pondering the whole thing for a few moments. He was happy that he wasn't at the back, but unsure what the others meant when they said things like, 'bound to fall off,' and 'accident prone.' He got up behind Tarent and then turned to help Loras get up behind him. They fidgeted for a few moments to get comfortable before the conversation resumed.

'Well, you are the only one to have fallen so far,' said Tarent.

'And you tend to attract problems and…' chimed in Loras.

'Okay, okay let's just get going before I attract more problems, which I don't think I do. I'm a highly adept thief able to get into and out of…' He suddenly noticed Bartholomew glaring at him, so shut his mouth with a snap then buried his head in Tarent's shoulder. 'Let's go,' came his muffled voice.

Mahra grinned and patted Loras on the leg, he smiled back at her. 'Don't worry, Loras, if you fall I'll let Quint know. I'll be right alongside you. Just don't pull Pardigan off if you do fall… hold on tight both of you!'

As
The Griffin
rose to her feet and spread her wings, the crew called hasty promises to Bartholomew that they would speak on his behalf, requesting that King Hugo go leniently on him after all his help in recovering the two crystal skulls.

'And you have the word of a Guild Merchant and a gentleman that I shall turn himself in and clear my good name. I shall help them track down, capture and kill that scum hunter, Matheus Hawk. I shall wrestle the other skull from his treacherous betraying hands myself and then bring it to the King; for I am his loyal and honest subject, so I am… you tell him that, my oath on it! And you can also tell him…'

But Bartholomew's words were lost as
The Griffin
exploded upwards in a giant leap with her passengers doing their utmost to hang gamely on.

Below the departing
Griffin
,
The Esmerelda
continued on her way, her huge white sails startlingly bright against the deep blue of the ocean, caught in the first rays of the rising sun as it cast a brilliant orange sunrise between the horizon and the covering of cloud that still filled most of the sky. It had stopped raining, and this side of the mountains there was no sign of snow.

Riding on the back of
The Griffin,
as she clawed her way up through the frigid air was still incredibly cold for her passengers. The trick they now knew was to keep as low on her back as possible, to escape the worst of the cold wind and to grip onto the warm shaggy pelt with fingers becoming rapidly numb. As
The Griffin
turned west, they were able to take a last look down at the ship below as it crashed on through the waves, none of them believing that Bartholomew would keep to his word, yet there was nothing more they could do, they needed to get the skulls to safety and then travel on to Dhurban as quickly as possible. There had been no other choice but to leave Bartholomew to his own devices and hope he didn't return to a life of mischief.

* * *

Water rippled beside a lily pad as thick white lips delicately sucked a floating morsel from the surface. As the beautifully mottled fish slowly sank back out of sight into the green depths of the pond, several more small pieces of bread landed close by in cascades of interlocking ripples, tempting more of the shy creatures from hiding. The fish obliged, two this time, one a deep golden colour with an orange strip down the front of its face, the other one almost bone white from tip to tail, the shading of its features making it seem as if some misshapen skull had risen from the depths. It was the fish the Emperor had been waiting for, his special favourite. It amused him that the fish resembled the crystal skull that Matheus Hawk placed such great value in. His eyes were drawn to the rock in the centre of the pool where the real crystal skull had been placed, before returning to his prized fish.

'Ahh, my precious ghost has come to visit. You have been tempted from your lair, and now you shall blow me kisses.' The Emperor's soft lilting voice carried around the small courtyard, blending with the soft tinkling of the fountain at the far end, and the last rays of a fading sunset casting a rainbow in the fine mist. Tossing the last few pieces of bread towards the lily pads, the Emperor leaned out to see his ghost fish better as it moved towards the floating crust, but then the clatter of shod feet and the rude banging of a door broke the moment. The fish turned with a splash of alarm to seek the sanctuary of the depths.

The Emperor stood, wiping a stray drop of water from his cheek, and turned to see who it was that had disturbed his peace. A large warrior, armoured from head to foot in polished red hide and dusted with the filth of the far away desert, came to a halt and struck his arm across his chest in salute, his eyes were cast to the floor.

'Mighty Emperor, my Lord of Shadows, our forces are nearing the great city of Dhurban and shall arrive with the morning sun. Some form of demonic beast that was able to hunt them has now expelled your wraiths; however, the survivors report many deaths were made, and great fear and havoc brought upon the city. Magic of some kind is now at play and stops them from re-entering. We await your wishes and instruction.'

The Emperor, Djinn Tsai, smoothed his robes and walked past the man without saying a word. As if in deep thought he plucked a lemon from the small tree that overhung the pond and slowly circled the courtyard. The warrior stood unmoving, waiting.