Revelyn: 1st Chronicles - When the last arrow falls (36 page)

‘Bit unnerved by the
Ocean Rose
he is,’ Scion had informed them. ‘Wants to get loaded and back to sea. Hates to share the same harbour as that fell vessel. And he’s not alone in that!’  Tyne’s unease was well founded; for hardly had they set foot on the jetty when they were confronted by a group of the most desperate looking sailors Rema had ever seen, or imagined. They were led by an over tall and barrel-chested man whose long matted hair and well patched dirty tunic spoke of a small regard for personal cleanliness and decency. His face bore the pock marks of an old disease which might never have completely healed, and his teeth were worse than Wormwood’s; but it was the eyes which held the awfulness together, for they were dead eyes. Stone dead. Eyes which had seen others die, beaten and bloody at his command. There was no gentleness or peace in the face of Jehru Abhor; nor any of his men.

‘Slept ashore,’ hissed Scion, ‘that’s why the ship was so dark last evening. Probably drunk themselves stupid and by the looks of it that’s still the way they are.’ No words were exchanged between the two groups  but Serenna was horrified that Jehru Abhor took a clear interest in her, for he leered at her with wide unblinking eyes which followed her every move as she and Rema walked uneasily down the jetty and into the town. She could feel his eyes upon her and she instinctively took Rema’s arm and leant in towards him. Rema responded protectively, for whilst he had not her perception in these matters, he sensed her great disquiet.

‘What is it with these captains,’ Serenna had said when they were well clear of the port and higher up into the township. ‘Do they all want to own me? Is there something strange about me? Do they think I am some animal for trading?’ From a vantage point they had turned and watched as a small boat left the shore and rowed slowly out to the sinister black ship which waited for them. ‘Even now he is looking for me!’ for Serenna’s sharp eyes could discern, even at that distance, that the evil captain of the
Ocean Rose
was gazing fixedly in her direction; or so it seemed.

‘Scion says they are loaded and ready for sea. They are flying a blue flag from their mizzen which he says is the sign to other ships that they are ready to leave. With fortune we may never share the same air with them again, for they are an evil band if ever I saw one.’ Rema tried to console them both with the hope that it had been but a fleeting contact with the men of the
Ocean Rose.
Despite his positive comments, deep down Rema had a very bad feeling about that ship and its crew, for as he stood with Serenna gazing out to where it lay at anchor, his deepest sense seemed heightened and he thought he caught a whisper of some dark plan come to him from across the water. He shivered.

‘Stay close Serenna,’ he commanded without realising the strength in his words, but she took no offence and indeed took his arm once more as they turned their backs on Jehru Abhor and his sinister ship.

They climbed the mountain to see the famous spring and were disappointed that in reality it was little more than a trickle emerging from the rocks. A channel had been cut and earthenware pipes laid to carry the water down to the township. The town merchants paid for a civilian guard to watch over the spring, but as it was impossible to steal he did little more than spend his days admiring the view which was quite stunning. Serenna and Rema could see the other Crater Islands lying to the north, and in the far distance to the east they caught sight of the mainland which was the other side of
Oudin’s Bight
. In the town the water from the spring was held in deep rock-cut cisterns which were almost never filled due to the constant demand from the passing shipping. Whilst the spring itself was less than impressive, Rema found that to actually drink the ‘
Lavas
water’ was a most extraordinary experience, and one drink made him feel renewed. The taste was biting to the tongue but warm to the stomach, and he swore that his neck felt suddenly better, for it had ached continually since his cramped stay in the
Scoria’s
lookout.

The soil was rich and grew vegetables easily, but as the land was so steep there was very little farming, so most produce was imported from the mainland. The fishing fleet was thriving for there was plenty to catch within the harbour, and in the colder deeper waters of the nearby ocean. A day’s catch was readily salted and quickly sold to the shipping trade. Rema and Serenna learnt most of what there was to know about
Lavas
within a few hours of walking the steep streets and chatting with the friendly townspeople; but in the small and appropriately named ‘Lookout Tavern’ high up above the harbour, they both agreed that
Lavas
was an interesting place, but impressive rather than beautiful.

‘It’s hard to enjoy any place whilst Sylvion is a prisoner and the future so uncertain,’ Rema spoke quietly as they gazed out across the harbour, for he bore an inner anxiety for her which never left him.

‘And everywhere we go we have to deal with people like Lethyne Tyne or Jehru Abhor;’ Serenna shuddered as she recalled his recent presence. ‘I hope we are on our way soon for he and his ship have greatly disturbed me.’ Rema turned and looked at her.

‘Serenna,’ he said in a quiet and even manner. ‘I will not let any harm come to you. You must trust me on this.’ She smiled and held his gaze and remembered his youthfulness, now become a man. She squeezed his hands.

‘I do trust you Rema. But that man...’ she shook her head, and left her sentence unfinished.

It took very little time to fill the earthenware amphora which were used to carry the
Lavas
water. It took far longer to stow them safely in the ship’s hold. Tyne liked to arrange them vertically in rows using a heavy damp ballast sand to cover them at least to half their height, which kept them from moving, and breaking. Finally he had the necks of the containers tied to each other in a complicated pattern which further secured them. It was hard on the crew, but it was the only safe way, for if they were caught in a storm, they might all be lost and
Lavas
water did not come cheap. Tyne spent half the bag of gold Serenna had given him on the water, and knew he could make twice as much in return by the time he had sold it all. There were many welcome ports to visit on the eastern coast of Revelyn, or perhaps he would do a longer voyage across the ocean to the Norzelands which lay far to the east. The Norze were always wanting the legendary
Lavas
water of Revelyn. He had spent the morning supervising his crew loading the precious cargo, and was now planning the next leg of the journey in his cabin. Scion was in charge on deck. A sudden knock at the door made him jump, which was uncharacteristic.

‘Yes?’ He replied coldly for he liked not to be disturbed when in his cabin.

‘Wormwood Captain. Sorry to disturb you but you have a visitor.’ There was silence for a moment as Tyne thought about a response, but he knew he would have to deal with it.
Probably the harbour master wanting to know when I’ll be ready to sail,
he thought, for there were several other vessels eager to take his place.

‘You may enter.’ He gave the command with little enthusiasm. The door opened. Wormwood had disappeared. Filling the doorway, and with an evil gleam in his stony dead eyes was the last person he ever wanted to have words with; Jehru Abhor, captain of the
Ocean Rose.

‘Ah Captain Tyne it has been too long!’ The evil man entered the cabin as if he owned it. He stood to his full considerable height which meant his head touched the roof timbers, and then cracked his knuckles loudly by way of a crude statement that he had arrived.

‘Not near long enough for me Abhor. What are you doing on my ship?’ Tyne growled his response, angered that the man had so easily assumed entry to his vessel.

‘Come Tyne, surely whatever ills exist between us do not need to prevent the pursuit of commerce. I have a business proposition for you. Let us deal with the matter direct like, for you will not be disappointed in what I have to say.’ Abhor seemed supremely confident, but his cheerful demeanour did not fool Lethyne Tyne for a moment, for his stone dead eyes could not hide an evil intent, and so he stood and said nothing, forcing Abhor to judge the right manner in which to proceed.

‘Hmm, I see that you are not easily moved by the idea of making some easy money.’ Tyne said nothing. Abhor continued.

‘We are traders you and I; perhaps we approach things a little differently, I will grant you that, but in the end we want to turn a good profit. In the end we are the same.’

Tyne remained impassive. Abhor stroked his chin and thought with a furrowed brow.

‘I have recently being trading with the
Scuts
, you know those strange folk down south and east. A week’s sail from here if the weather is fair. The men wear kelts you know, no different to  woman’s clothes if you ask me but there you go.’ Tyne stared unmoving at his unwanted visitor. Abhor pressed on.

‘I have been dealing with a Lord of theirs. Rich man, very rich. Big too, and hairy, red hair all over, and unmarried. Can’t get a woman for he drinks too much and has the vilest temper. Prepared to pay a small fortune for a woman.’ Abhor looked intently at Tyne to see if was listening at all, which he was...biding his time.

‘Anyhow this Lord, of the Scuts, lives in a huge fortress castle overlooking the sea... gave me a bag of gold as a down payment and promised another if I can procure a woman to fit his desires. Of course he has his wants...she needs to have red hair, well built with hips for the children, that sort of thing,’ He paused, but still Tyne remained silent.

‘Look Tyne you know who I’m talking about. That woman as come off your ship this morning. A perfect match or my name’s not Jehru Abhor. I’d be doing you a favour; women on ships is bad luck, I know it, we both know it. I’m prepared to take her off your hands... for a fair return of course. What do you say? Just business, no more, no less.’ Lethyne Tyne had become increasingly angry as the odious Abhor had been speaking.

‘You fool Abhor, you cannot just offer to buy someone as if they were a barrel of rum...’ he spoke at last but was immediately cut off by Abhor who wandered around the cabin inspecting various items as he spoke.

‘I thought this might be a little tricky for you but bless me if I didn’t get to speaking with your man Wormwood; now he tells me that your good self put in an offer on this very same woman in recent times.’ He smiled broadly knowing that he had made a significant point.  Tyne’s anger just intensified to a deep fury. Wormwood would feel more than his boot before the day was done. He took a deep breath and spoke quietly.

‘And how much would it be worth to me to, this business arrangement you have so eloquently put before me?’ Jehru Abhor sensed victory.

’Well I think half the bag of gold.’ He took out a small bag and threw it theatrically onto the cabin table. It landed with a sold clunk. ‘More value in that bag than half a year of trading these seas. And all for a wench.’ Abhor stood with his hands on hips and watched Tyne carefully, eager for his acceptance of the offer. Tyne picked up the bag and weighed it carefully in the palm of one hand. It felt good; it was heavy and madly tempting, for he had a great love of gold.  He looked at Abhor and smiled. At that moment they were interrupted by Scion who appeared at the cabin door.

‘Sorry to intrude Captain Tyne,’ he spoke with not a glance at Abhor, ‘but I heard you had a visitor and wondered if you required anything?’ Tyne responded immediately.

‘Thank you no. I will be able to manage.’ The look he gave Scion suggested that he leave forthwith, but he knew that the big black sailor had heard much of the conversation. He waited until the sounds of Scion’s departure had faded, and then angrily tossed the bag back at Abhor, forcing him to catch it right before his face.

‘There will be no deal on this Abhor, now get your evil presence off my ship and do not ever return.’ The rebuke cut like a knife and the change to Abhor’s demeanour was as if he was suddenly another man. His evil eyes narrowed and his voice was like the hiss of a Gnabi viper.

‘You fool Tyne. No one crosses me like this. You have played with me. Led me on. I come with a fair proposition...’ This time it was Tyne who cut Abhor off for suddenly there was a sword in his hand and without hesitation he jumped at Abhor thrusting it expertly at the large barrel chest. Abhor stepped hurriedly back and collided with the cabin door, cursed and went to pull out a hidden weapon but Tyne was on him, and with a deft flick of his wrist inflicted a shallow cut on Abhor’s ugly face from the chin to almost his ear. The blood flowed quickly but it was not a serious wound, nor had Tyne intended it to be. But his sword was at Abhor’s throat and so ended all further action.

‘Get off my ship!’ Captain Lethyne Tyne’s roar let his nemesis know that the meeting was over. Abhor held a bloody hand to his check, cursed Tyne foully and left with a threat.

‘You will regret you did that. I will have revenge; you mark my words Lethyne Tyne, for no man cuts Jehru Abhor and lives long to tell of it.’ And then he was gone. Scion and several of the crew witnessed Abhor leave the
Scoria
holding a hand to his cheek which failed to stem the flow of bright red blood that had already soaked his tunic at the neck.

‘I didn’t expect to see his blood was red, more like black I would’ve wagered,’ said one sailor in a hoarse whisper, somewhat in awe of the spectacle. ‘Good on the captain I say.’

Scion frowned. ‘A brave act no doubt sailor, but foolishness itself, for that man will make us pay, that’s what I’d be wagering.’ It was a sombre thought. At that moment Captain Lethyne Tyne appeared on the mid deck; he was still holding his sword and wore the face of a storm.

‘Wormwood!’ He roared, ‘Wormwood wherever you are, I’ll see you below this instant.’

By the second day, the
Scoria
was as full of
Lavas
water as could safely be stowed below. The crew were preparing the ship for sea at a leisurely pace for Tyne had decided to leave the following morning on the tide. The
Ocean Rose
showed some signs of activity, and looked to be leaving that afternoon, but there was no contact by either of the ship’s company, although word had spread aboard the
Scoria
of the bloody outcome to Abhor’s fateful visit the previous day, and a certain apprehension hung heavily in the air.