The Halfblood King: Book 1 of the Chronicles of Aertu (24 page)

Soon, Aleron and Barathol were dozing, along with Geldun and half the other marines on board.  Sailors passing by either shook their heads and chuckled or scowled in disgust.  Though some might be jealous of the marine’s lack of responsibility when under sail, none would trade for their responsibilities upon landfall on unfriendly shores.

Late that night, Aleron found himself in the storeroom adjacent to the galley.  Sleep was eluding him, due in part to the redolent afternoon he enjoyed.  He often took advantage of times like this, seeking a private place to practice magic.  He cast out his senses and soon found one of the ubiquitous rats, prowling behind some barrels.  It was not one that he had encountered before, so it came willingly when he called out to it.  Most shipboard creatures he encountered previously scurried away quickly as soon as they sensed his presence.  It was not that he was ever cruel to them; it was just that the things he did to them were a bit disconcerting for the poor animals.  The ship’s cat bolted whenever she caught sight of Aleron and oddly, became overly sympathetic to the rats and mice in the past few weeks.  He heard the cook complain that he would have thrown her overboard for uselessness, if he didn’t think she was pregnant and there was hope for a good kitten.  Aleron conceded to himself that he probably shouldn’t have turned her into a mouse last month. 

The little gray rat hopped into his palm and looked up at him with beady black eyes, twitching his whiskers, as rats do.  Aleron concentrated and in a flash of white, a small parakeet stood on his palm, looking bewildered.  He quickly gained control of the bird and calmed it, then he sensed through the creature.  It was indistinguishable from the one he examined near Corin a week earlier, except that its mind was still that of a rat.  The rat’s mind, however, was rapidly realigning itself to the thought processes of the bird’s brain it found itself inhabiting.  Aleron sensed the dim intelligence of the rodent expanding to fill the exponentially greater capacity of the parakeet.  The bird stretched its wings and hopped about his palm.  Before it progressed much further, he bent his will and the little grey rat once again sat on his palm.  He expected the creature to bolt, as soon as it gained its bearings again, but this one was different.  It just sat and looked at him expectantly.  He felt again for the rodent’s thoughts and received a deep sense of longing from the animal.  It wanted him to change it back.  He tried to project an impression to the little creature that being a parakeet would not do in the cool dry lands where they were heading .  Aleron did not think that a rat could mope, but that’s just what this one did, as it flopped onto his palm and curled into a ball.  He felt bad for the little rodent, having had a short glimmer of intelligence, only to return back to its meager capacity again. 

As he stroked the animal’s fur with one finger, a solution came to him.  He once again focused his will on the rat and another flash of white preceded the appearance of a young raven in the place of the little grey rat on his palm. 
There, little friend,
he spoke into the bird’s mind,
now you will be able to live where we are going. 
He set his hand down on a barrel and the raven that was once a rat hopped off.  It stretched out one, then the other wing, looking at each in turn and then it lifted one foot to examine it as well.  Aleron reached into his pocket for a piece of hardtack he was saving and broke off a corner.  He offered it to the bird, which took the bread and swallowed it in one gulp.  He broke up the rest of the bread and set it atop the barrel for the bird. 

Moving his own awareness into the head of the raven, he looked through its eyes as it plucked up the pieces of hardtack and swallowed them down.  The rat’s mind was in here as well, straining to fill the vast space now available.  Aleron was surprised to discover that there seemed to be enough room for his mind in here as well.  He had long avoided changing himself into anything other than a man, fearing that he would not have the intelligence to bring himself back.  Here, however, was a mind with nearly the same capacity as his.  When new and unformed, a raven’s brain would be more than accommodating to his mind.  The ravens he previously studied possessed minds already formed to their natural purpose and so he did not realize the potential mental capacity of these birds.  He decided that this was a form he could use to move quickly, over large distances and still have hope of changing himself back to normal at the end of the trip.

Come along, my friend,
he spoke to the raven, holding out his arm. 
Let’s get you out into the fresh air, where you can learn about the wind. 
The young bird hopped atop Aleron’s forearm and he reentered the galley, extinguishing the glowing white orb he conjured to see in the dark storeroom.  He grabbed another half loaf of bread someone had left on the table and made his way to the stairs.  A portly night shift sailor trundled down to the galley, in search of a snack.  He nodded to Aleron in recognition, as they passed at the foot of the stairs.  The sailor saw only a marine, hands swinging at his sides, as Aleron exited the galley. 

On the main deck once again, he made his way to the forecastle, the upper deck of which, was currently empty.  This far out to sea and under minimum sail, only one guard was required up in the crow’s nest.  Closer to shore, they would have shielded lanterns hanging from the bowsprit and at least two watchers on the foredeck, on the lookout for reefs and shoals.  He bounded up the ladder, one-handed, the bread tucked under the arm holding the bird.  He then set the raven on the deck, along with the half-loaf, saying,
now stay clear of the edge until you get your wings straight.  If you fall over the edge before you learn to fly, you will be lost. 
He picked up the stout rope meant to block the exit from the foredeck, where it dropped to the main deck and hooked it to the railing on either side. 
Come on over here and grab hold of this rope.  You can practice flying, while you hold on tight. 
The bird understood, because Aleron was projecting the thoughts into its mind, rather than using any actual words.  It hopped over to the rope, flapped its wings a few times and then looked up expectantly at Aleron.  He reached down, it hopped onto his hand and he helped it up to the rope.  Once there, it spread its wings into the breeze , which, fortunately, blew from directly behind. 
Good night, little friend; I will be back to check on you at dawn,
he reassured the raven, before swinging over the railing and dropping to the deck below.  With only a few bells before dawn, he proceeded below decks to find his berth and get some real sleep.

Chapter 26

Sildaenday, Day 5, Haymaking Moon. 8765 Sudean Calendar

Nearly five weeks had passed since Aleron transformed the rat into a raven and Bob, as the raven was now known, had become something of a mascot for the ship.  He lived atop the forecastle and one of the sailors fashioned a nest box for him.  When he was first discovered, a few wanted to throw him over the side, but the others would not have it.  Some sailors and marines pointed out that ravens are a fortuitous omen and sacred to Corball, as well.  Now, nearly everyone on board checked on him and made sure he had food and water.  He learned to fly and was oft seen perched in the rigging, or flapping about the air above the ship.  Everyone believed that Bob must have stowed away somehow, maybe falling from a nest at the harbor of Corin.  Until now, they were too far out to sea for the young bird to find his way to land, so he just stayed with the ship.  Today, however, they were approaching land.  The Strait of Cordak, which separated the Sudean Mainland from Cordak Island and the slew of other South Sea islands, was dead ahead.  Cordak is among the northernmost islands of a large archipelago, stretching from southern Sudea, to the southern sea ice and beyond.  The vessel would hug the north shore of the island, keeping to deeper waters for the passage.

Aleron projected his thoughts to the bird perched atop the highest spar of the main mast. 
You see the land, don’t you?

See something, no know what.  I born ship, know ship. 
The raven’s thoughts were much more like language now than the vague impressions Aleron first perceived from the rat’s mind. 
People nice, I stay ship.

Aleron projected images of trees, rivers and mountains to the young bird. 
That is where a raven is supposed to live, not on a boat.  You’ll find all of that on the island up ahead.

What eat there?  Food good here.

He projected more thoughts as to what ravens eat and where he would find it, then added,
There’re female ravens over there and you’ll never find one of those on the ship.

I think it,
the raven conceded.

Two bells later, the large black bird took to the air and winged off toward the now attainable shore off their port side.  Someone yelled and everyone above decks stopped to watch Bob leave.  “Goodbye Bob!  Take care of yourself!” one of the marines shouted.

“He’s off to find the lady-ravens, I would bet,” Aleron announced, with a grin, relieved that his friend chose the most sensible, if not the easiest option.  Several nodded and agreed, saying it must be, since Bob wanted for nothing else aboard the ship.  Aleron was impressed by the near human level of intelligence Bob displayed.  He resolved to attempt talking to some wild ones, when the opportunity presented itself.  He thought it would be interesting to see if they were all as smart as Bob, or if he was somehow unique.

Later, they would adjust their course to a more westerly one and negotiate the channel taking them around South Cape.  In nine or ten days, they were due to round the cape and dock at Cape Town.  Aleron and the others looked forward to a day or two on solid ground for a change.

***

Zormat lounged upon a sumptuously cushioned divan, in his private quarters at the royal palace of Kolixtlan. 
I could get used to this,
he thought.  Luxury like this did not exist in Arkus, where everything was designed for utility over comfort and beauty, not even for the king.  His languid reverie was interrupted by the approach of his first.  Karsh entered without knocking, no formalities required between beings that could sense each other’s presence across leagues.  “Has my package arrived yet?” Zormat asked his aide.

“Not as yet, Sire,” Karsh replied, “it is delayed by the need to spirit it across enemy territory, I’m afraid.”

“Understood, I expected as much.  So what business brings you here Karsh?”

“Sire, it’s the other, what we have been searching for, all these years.  We believe we are close.”

“Zadehmal?” the Arkan King started, “Where?”

Far to the north Sire, across the ice to the desert beyond.  The men who live on the ice worship a power there and we think it may be what we are looking for.”

“That is news indeed, Karsh, my friend,” Zormat stated, on his feet now, pacing about the room.   “My father’s weapon of power will soon bein my hands.  With it, we will be able to free him and bring forth his new dominion over Aertu.”

“Yes Sire,” Karsh replied, “and yours as well, My Liege.  Do you have any further instructions, your Grace?” 

“Yes, of course,” he replied, pacing faster, “we must mount an expedition to retrieve it at once.  The blockade will be a problem, but not an insurmountable one.  We will simply mask our ship for the passage, then rejoin our people in the north.”

“Your Grace, do you think it is wise to mount an expedition now?  We are at the height of winter and the cold will be intense, not to mention the perpetual darkness when we pass into the far north.”

“Do not question my authority Karsh, or I’ll have you thrown into the sea, with your feet tied to a bloodstone boulder.  We will mount the expedition, regardless of the conditions.  My father would expect no less from his loyal son and his people.”

“Yes, Your Grace, I never meant to question your wisdom and I apologize if I made such an impression.”

“Good, I would not like to think that perhaps your faith is faltering.”

“Sire, no, of course not,” the First emphatically assured his leader.

“We will provision ourselves accordingly and there will be no men among our expedition.  That will increase our chance of survival.”

“Sire, do you intend to lead the expedition yourself?”

“Yes, this time I must.  Only I will touch Zadehmal.  I do not believe it safe for anyone else to handle the object.  My father’s power is too strong and if one is not up to the task, the axe may destroy them.  Also, anyone who is up to the task is not likely to willingly relinquish the power, once they hold it.”

“Understood, Your Grace, when do you wish to depart?”  Karsh was still uneasy about mounting a winter expedition into the frozen north, but had fewer reservations, the more Zormat explained his intentions.

“We will leave as soon as we are physically able,” Zormat replied, stopping his pacing, “and it is up to you, Karsh, as my First, to assure that it is soon.”

“Yes, Sire and what of the package you are expecting?  It will likely not arrive before we are ready to set out.”

“The package will need to wait until we return.  Identify a safe place to store it, where it will keep unspoiled and I will deal with it upon my return.  Now got see to provisioning my ship for the voyage ahead.”

“Right away, Your Grace,” Karsh answered, turning on his heel and exiting the chamber.

***

“Where are we going today?” Eilowyn asked her captors, as she had every morning since her abduction.

“North,” the shorter one answered, as he had every day for over eight weeks.  “We’ll be hitting another border crossing this morning and you know the drill.  Open your pretty little mouth and you’ll only get the border guards killed.  If we have to go through that again, you might not make it where you’re going as clean and unspoiled as originally planned.”

Eilowyn did not need reminding of the pair’s killing efficiency.  She was on her way to the family’s summer estate to join her mother, sister and her sister’s children, when two horsemen appeared on the road ahead.  As her entourage approached, the riders moved to either side of the road, as if to let them pass.  Suddenly, crossbows appeared in their hands and before anyone could react, Hans and Simeon slumped dead in their saddles, each with a bolt lodged in their faces.  She screamed and the riders fell upon the rest of her train, cutting down the remaining guardsmen and courtiers indiscriminately.  Within seconds, all but her were dead.  She bolted, but her calm little mare was no warhorse, so the short one soon came alongside and cut to one side, driving her mount into a wide circle.  He gained control of her bridle and brought both beasts to a halt.