Oathen
Authors: Jasmine Giacomo
Tags: #romance, #coming of age, #magic, #young adult, #epic, #epic fantasy, #pirates, #adventure fantasy, #ya compatible
Oathen
By Jasmine
Giacomo
Smashwords
Edition
Copyright © 2011 Jasmine
Giacomo
Discover other Smashwords titles by the
Author:
The
Wicked Heroine
(prequel to
Oathen)
Smashwords Edition, License
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Table of Contents
Dedication
To the generations who have gone before:
without your footprints, we would not have paths among which to
choose.
Acknowledgements
To M. L. Strickland, Amy
Grimwood-Habjan, Nicole Moscou and Camille Ramsey, I give heartfelt
thanks.
My continual thanks go to my family,
for letting me live my passion.
Mep and his son Tran spotted the sea monster only after they
had pushed their sturdy outrigger halfway into the gentle surf.
Matching the color of the dark water around it, it resembled a
plateau of stone against the lightening horizon beyond, blocking
the small harbor’s mouth.
Tran swore by the sea queen’s eyes, pointing
at its massive, unmoving form. “What do we do, Ba?” the teenager
asked.
The older fisherman squinted out at the dark
monstrosity. In the pre-dawn greyness that layered sea and shore
alike, it seemed to fade in and out of existence. “Can’t fish much
in the harbor.” He clicked his tongue, then wiggled a loose tooth.
His son waited silently. Finally Mep said, “Best go see
it.”
Tran looked out at the massive creature,
hesitant.
Mep put his hands back on the canoe, a hint of
a smile lifting one seamed cheek. “Would you let sea birds pick at
your eyeball? It can’t harm us now.”
Tran glanced back out. In the distance, he
could indeed see a cluster of boisterous white sea harpies perched
on the curve of the sea monster’s smooth hide. Still, the idea of
approaching a dead sea monster made him shiver. The Deep Ones were
the guardians of the sea gods’ lairs.
But his father showed no hesitation, so Tran
didn’t either. Together, the pair slid the outrigger into the warm
sea and pushed off from the white sand. They paddled with the
retreating tide toward the enormous grey-blue bulk and into its
long, dim predawn shadow. A faint odor, similar to that of a whale,
exuded from its body. Its midsection bent around the coral jetty
the villagers had constructed on one side of the harbor, and its
tail dangled out of sight in the sea currents. Had its body been
less sleek, it wouldn’t have fit in the harbor at high
tide.
Mep gave its skin a long, gentle prod with his
oar. “Seems unspoiled. Lots of good use in this beast.”
They paddled back to shore, hopping out among
other fishermen who milled around their own outriggers, waiting to
hear Mep’s verdict on the situation.
“The sea gods have blessed us this day,” Mep
said, loudly enough for all to hear. “They gift us with one of
their own guardians. Let’s not waste.”
As the sun rose over the eastern sea, every
able-bodied villager streamed out along the sand and coral reefs
toward the dead hulk. They bore knives, ropes, coals, platters and
bowls. Excitement and wonder spread across the crowd as they drew
close to the creature. A few eager volunteers clambered up onto the
carcass and looped ropes around its fins. The crowd pulled in
unison to draw its bulk to the edge of the coral jetty before the
low tide stranded it in the sandy harbor bottom. Once they’d
secured it, the carving began.
“What could kill a Deep One and not leave a
mark?” Mep’s wife, Gara, asked as she hefted a section of blubber
the size of her own leg onto a wide woven platter lined with tantan
leaves. Behind her, numerous fires were already burning, rendering
tubs of fat into usable tallow.
Perched above her on the creature’s side, Mep
looked across the creature’s curved bulk to the four scallop-edged
tusks that protruded from its upper jaw. Its mouth was ragged with
serrated teeth. The flies and sea harpies hadn’t abandoned their
eyeball meal; the birds squawked angrily if anyone came too close.
He began a cut with his whale knife and replied, “Whatever it was,
it has my thanks. We’ll eat for weeks. Could even build a palace
for the Sea Queen with the—”
His blade clinked against something hard in
the middle of the soft tissue, and he paused, frowning. As he slid
the knife back, feeling around, it slipped and stabbed deeply into
the Deep One’s body, piercing an organ and releasing a burst of
fetid gas that blew his hair straight up.
Gara, unsympathetic, chuckled. “You wash
before you kiss me next, Mep.”
He grinned. “Maybe you should wash me. Make
sure I get it right.” He peered down into the dark cavity below. It
smelled of dead stomach. Something glinted in the angled sunlight,
and as he peeled back a thick layer of flesh to see it better, his
knife skittered against the blade of a short sword jammed up from
below.
He froze for a moment, stunned. Then, despite
the futility of rescue, Mep began carving his way down into the
Deep One as fast as he could, shouting for others to assist him. To
their surprise, the searchers discovered that the sword’s handle
was still gripped by a hand—not a skeletal hand, nor even a
half-digested hand. The limb was perfectly complete, if pasty-white
and hairless.
Wide-eyed, the men began to free the body.
Into the summer morning they pulled a trim, fit and hairless nude
woman, gooey with stomach slime and bits of partially digested
meat. They handed her down to others on the coral jetty, who laid
her down on the ground with superstitious care. Several of them
approached, bowing, and mimed pouring handfuls of blessings from
her onto their own heads.
“Is she really a sea goddess?” Tran breathed,
seeing their obeisance. Her skin had begun to take on a more normal
hue, though she was still paler than anyone in his
village.
His mother slapped his shoulder. “Quit
staring. Your girl Seesa will get jealous.” She snatched up a
relatively clean length of unbleached cloth and carried it over to
the body.
Tran huffed a laugh. His mother had never been
intimidated by anything; why should meeting a sea goddess be any
different?
“Maybe she killed the Deep One herself,” Mep
said, tapping his lower lip in speculation.
“No,” the woman murmured, opening her eyes and
turning her head toward him. “Couldn’t reach its heart from its
stomach.”
The villagers gasped and backed away as she
spoke, many of them hiding their downcast eyes behind splayed
fingers. She sat up and took the cloth from Gara’s slack grasp,
wrapping it loosely around herself.