Revelyn: 1st Chronicles - When the last arrow falls (32 page)

‘Of course we have not looked everywhere have we captain?’ He let the statement hang in the air for just the right amount of time before continuing. ‘My men did all that was expected of them, but to a man they don’t like heights.’ And with this he deliberately stared up into the mess of ropes and rigging which rose high above them. Turning back suddenly he saw the look of horror on Captain Tyne’s face. He leered triumphantly. ‘You are a fool captain. You think
I
am the fool, but no it is you. I saw those two climbing up there as we were rowing out here. I’ve known all along. And you! You can’t help yourself, looking up here all the time. You might as well have held out a sign.’

Captain Lethyne Tyne was speechless.

‘So do I need to send the soldiers up or will you at least do the decent thing and order them down. I think the last laugh is for me captain. What do you say?’ And with that he flourished his silk handkerchief triumphantly in a manner that spoke only of his great contempt for his crestfallen and hapless opponent.

‘I think there has been some misunderstanding,’ Tyne stammered.

‘On the contrary Captain there has been a great understanding. You knew exactly what you were doing. You gambled and you lost. To a superior opponent that is all. Now bring them down, for I weary of this game. It is over!’ His voice had become officious and meanly gleeful. ‘Now Captain!’

Captain Tyne took a deep breath and in a loud voice called aloft. ‘You have been discovered you two. You had better come down. There is no place to go. I am sorry.’ And with that he turned and went to the rail and waited. Geddy Grech would not look up. He wanted to savour the downfall of the great Captain Tyne. He watched the captain even as two figures appeared high up and began the climb back to the deck. He noticed the slump of the mighty shoulders and the clear look of worry which creased the weather beaten face. And he enjoyed it all immensely. And then he was taken completely by surprise when all of a sudden the Captain’s visage suddenly brightened.

‘Look Grech, here they come. You should at least be watching as these villains come before you!’

Perplexed, Grech turned and looked aloft. The two hideaways were halfway down and immediately he saw that these were not the two fugitives. His keen eyesight picked that out in an instant. They were just sailors, two of the crew. He flew into a huge rage.

‘Who are these men Tyne? What were they doing skulking up there?’ You have tricked me Tyne. Explain yourself. Do it now!’

‘Well,’ the captain spoke in a rather condescending fashion as he scratched his head theatrically in feigned confusion, ‘I had no idea what all the fuss was about. But these two sailors of mine, Wormwood and Smallbone. They were involved in a rather rowdy tavern brawl several days ago in Ramos. Lots of damage, lost teeth, broken glass, damaged pride, that sort of thing. Happens all the time for those who spend their life at sea. Anyhow they came to me when we heard that the
Scoria
was to be searched. They were worried about a warrant being put out for their arrest. Pure speculation of course, but they couldn’t face being hauled off the ship. It was my idea to send them aloft. I figured there was no harm in it, and beside you weren’t after them, in any case; and the ones you
were
looking for are not on the ship, like I told you. I guess you just made a mistake Grech. Like I said a misunderstanding all round. Now if you don’t mind I have a passage to make and want to be across the bar as the tide turns.’

And with that Captain Lethyne Tyne dismissed him and started giving orders to his crew at such a rate that the ship began to come to life around the visiting party. Grech was suddenly consumed with fear that he’d be caught at sea, and this brought on a final episode of retching over the side. His men helped him back to the row boat without another word, of which in any case he now incapable. Geddy Grech disappeared back toward shore as the
Scoria
  lifted her anchor and made ready to cross the bar and sail out into the bay and then to freedom on the waiting ocean.

As the ship started to move and feel the swells coming across the bar, so different to the flat and turgid water of the Luminos River, and as the helmsman took her in hand, Captain Tyne went to the stern, and placing two huge hands well splayed on the solid rail, cried out in a booming voice...

‘And don’t ever come back you pathetic little man. I’m laughing at you, do you hear me. I’m laughing at you Geddy Grech.’ And he stood there for a time with a broad smile on his happy face, and in truth he was a man transformed, for once he smelt the ocean he became the sailor of legend, of fame and fortune, no longer the sombre and morose mariner trapped between the ever present banks of a captive river.

Geddy Grech heard his cry, faint though it was, for the wind carried it to him, and he cringed in humiliation, and vowed in the darkest anger that
one day, one day he would destroy that man Tyne. 
It was at that moment that one of the soldiers spoke up.

‘I don’t suppose they were up there as well? I mean we never thought to look did we?’ Grech pretended not to hear, but he knew; he knew that was what had happened. He’d fallen for it. Such a simple ruse, and he’d come so close but failed at the last moment, distracted by his pride and anger. He felt the pain of it then like nothing he’d ever felt before. He said not a word, but he knew that in the days ahead it would eat away at him like a festering boil on his backside.

The
Scoria
was well out into the bay knifing easily through the gentle swells when Captain Tyne sent word for his two guests to come down from their cold and cramped hiding places. He accepted their thanks with a shrug and sent them below to get warm and well fed. He sent word to Wormwood and Smallbone that they would be issued with an extra mug of rum at sunset. And then he stood on the deck of his lovely ship and felt the life in her, and breathed easy with the wind in his face and the memory of a battle well won.

Chapter 11

Rema stretched once more to ease his aching limbs. The previous day hiding high above the deck in the small and cramped lookout for what seemed like endless hours, had taken its toll. His neck ached ferociously; recently damaged by the
Wolver’s
sword it had fared badly in the ordeal. Both he and Serenna had slept well but woken stiff and sore. They were surprised when they came on deck just after sunrise to find that the land was well behind them, no more than a smudge low down on the western horizon. Scion was at the helm and he informed them that they had crossed the
Royal Waters
with a favourable wind and passed out of
The Gates
between the famous
Lights of Oudin
just after midnight with the tide running strongly with them. Captain Tyne had been on deck till shortly before sunrise and had driven the ship hard.

 ‘As if to blow the cobwebs away,’ Scion had told them, ‘He is a different man at sea. You’ll find that soon enough.’ He’d chuckled before continuing. ‘We likes to say he’s a right
cow
of a man up the river, but a real
bull
on the sea.’

Serenna had replied with a scoff and a little too-quick toss of her head, ‘I dare say. Any improvement would be welcomed. Cow or bull, I prefer human.’

‘Don’t you forget Lady Serenna,’ the big black man chided gently, ‘It was Captain Tyne as saved your skins yesterday. Both of you. Clever plan it was, and make no mistake.’

‘You’re right,’ Serenna nodded, accepting the rebuke, and I will thank him again. He took a big risk.’

Wormwood had provided a breakfast of sorts in their cabin, a bread roll and a warm stew containing a variety of vegetables and a little fresh meat.

‘We like to eat the meat up quick like,’ he had grinned, showing all his yellow and misshapen teeth, ‘It doesn’t last at sea, so we might as well enjoy it now. Won’t be long afore you will remember this meal with the fondness of a lover.’ His greasy chuckle reminded  Rema of the previous day when he had shared his hideout with the little man, and it was not a pleasant memory. He interrupted quickly.

‘Where are we headed Wormwood? Has the Captain informed anyone?’

‘Well, that I can tell you, ‘cause I know it for a fact.’ Wormwood seemed to like being in possession of information others did not have, for his tone became quite pompous, and he drew himself up to his full height, which was nothing to speak of.

‘Out with it then,’ Serenna spoke impatiently and Wormwood looked offended.

‘Why is everyone so impatient?’ Receiving no sympathy, only a stony silence, he went on. ‘Out of
Ryhversend
Captain always heads for
Lavas
, one of the Crater Islands in the bight we’re crossing;
Oudin’s Bight
. The wind is always fair till then, usually on the stern or off the starboard quarter.
Lavas
is where we pick up the water, the trading water that is.’

‘Trading water?’ Rema inquired, perplexed.

‘Aye, trading water I calls it.
Lavas
is an old volcanic mountain. Climbs right out of the sea, really impressive it is up close. And far off, you can see it from leagues away. Anyhow it has a spring about half way up which has flowed continuously for hundreds of years I am told. The cleanest, purest water you could ever drink. It tastes like heaven and has a way of healing all manner of illness. People pay a pretty sum for a flask of the water from
Lavas
’ spring. Captain always fills up with what we can carry and trades it as we head out to the usual ports. All along the coast we sell it as quick as we tie up and goes ashore. Legend has it that traders have been coming to
Lavas
for centuries for the water. Wars have been fought over that mountain so I’m told. Well guarded these days, but there you go. Water like gold it is. Wait till you taste it. Where are you from anyhows: you don’t ever hear of
Lavas
water?’

‘No,’ said Rema quietly, I’ve never heard of it, but thank you Wormwood for enlightening me. I am interested in what you say about being guarded. Is it dangerous for us do you think?’ Wormwood also liked to be asked for advice, and so took an exaggerated time to reply, rubbing his hairy chin theatrically, as if considering the gravity of his reply. When he realised that both Serenna and Rema were leaning forward eagerly waiting for his opinion he quickly replied.

‘No danger!’ And he was gone before they had a chance to inquire further, leaving them both surprised by the little man’s behaviour.

‘We need to make some plans Rema,’ Serenna sighed as she soaked up the last of her stew with the bread roll. ‘I asked Tyne for passage to a port of our choosing, but one which he could accommodate. And Scion is right, we do owe him, for it was a clever trick he played yesterday.’ Rema nodded and leaned back against the rough hewn timber planking behind him. The stew had filled him, but his mind was unable to settle.

‘Plans we will make Serenna, but first we must talk. I feel like I have so many competing bits and pieces of information in my head that nothing is clear. I need to find some order in all this. So much has happened.’ He clenched his fists and gently tapped them, knuckles first against the sides of his head; his eyes were closed so he did not see the gentle smile of concern which Serenna wore, or the hand she reached out as though to comfort him; but she withdrew it, unsure of how it would be received.

‘Sylvion is a prisoner.’ Rema spoke loudly with a tinge of anger underpinned by regret and guilt. ‘I should be doing all I can to rescue her.’ He had a picture of his beloved woman, frightened and mistreated, beaten and abused. It did not bear thinking about, but it was ever present. ‘And I am so far from her.’

‘We are now at least travelling in the right direction.’ Serena spoke softly, ‘Well almost!  And a successful escape from Ramos is a good start. At least we now have a chance to help her.’ Rema looked across at his friend and smiled and nodded.

‘That is true. It is a start. But where to now?’ They sat in silence until Serenna offered a simple statement.

‘There is the prophecy Rema. We have spoken of it. The
Wisden
you spoke with gave it to you. Perhaps we should try to understand it more ourselves, for I have learnt that these things in Revelyn are powerful, and will perhaps direct our path correctly should we grasp its truth.’ Rema looked at her blankly as if from far off, then he smiled and became almost animated.

‘You are right Serenna. I cannot now save Sylvion, but that will come I pray. Now we must deal with what we have. You are right. You are right.’ As he repeated himself, he reached, fumbling into his tunic and withdrew the now somewhat creased and battered parchment which held the prophecy. He smoothed it on his knee and then read it aloud. The simple words filled the small cabin and seemed to make the timbers of the ship resonate and come alive. It was a moment of reawakening.

There is honour enough in madness

As the battle rages forward.

But there is madness without honour

Which is evil’s own reward

Whilst the Lord of Luminescence

Shines his darkness overall

Binding in the shadows

Holding all in thrall

And it shall ever seem to be

This way forevermore

Until the fighters muster and from eagle’s eye set forth

Until the archer rises

And stands with back to wall

Until the final battle

And the last arrow falls

As Rema finished reading, the ship shook and the small cabin in which they dwelt suddenly seemed less confining. They were both overcome by a wonderful feeling of purpose which had no sensible explanation, but now with a new resolve they felt more able to deal with the future and all it held.

‘The
Wisden
are convinced that I am this archer. Certainly Lord Petros agrees with them, or he wouldn’t be pursing me with such hate.’ Rema began where he had some understanding. ‘I just can’t get it into my head. I know that Sylvion is the true heir to the throne, and so my relationship with her must make me a possibility...’