Everyone scrambled to board Driftbranch. The new ship was smaller than The Finrider, and some people who usually sailed with The Wily Seal had been left behind on the riverbank by Kvelir’s haste. His pursuers abandoned most supplies on the destroyed ship to fit everyone, and still, it was cramped.
Kvelir had a head start, and with inexperienced sailors, that lead was significant. The thralls slowly wrangled Driftbranch into motion, and still The Wily Seal appeared to be gaining on them.
Yethyr stood at the bow with his guards as they all watched Kvelir sail further and further.
“I don’t think he even has a full crew!” Umbar cried. “How is that possible?
“That just makes the boat lighter,” Vezemar pointed out, just as Grokar said, “The Wily Seal crew has always been more efficient anyway.”
“Or their captain is more engaged in the sailing process,” Dethur muttered under his breath.
Yethyr did not hear him. His mind was fixed on ways of going faster.
“Where’s Aeromancer Nisari?”
“She went to take a nap on The Wily Seal,” Hegrir said
Grokar was incredulous. “You think she’s sleeping through that maniac commandeering the ship?”
“She’s a deep sleeper.”
That was true. I could hear her snoring every night.
“Tular is also on that ship,” Kettir said quietly.
“He must not know,” Dath murmured.
“Don’t be naive.” Her brother spat. “He was from Shumari’s Hunting Party. He must be in on it.”
Dath worried her lip. “You don’t know that for certain.”
“Putting aside Tular,” Vezemar said. “The thralls probably don't know they’re aiding a fleeing thief.”
Neither did I, Yethyr thought. He began to grow paranoid. Who else here is scheming behind my back?
Me, I thought with humor. Even now, I was doing everything I could to fan the flame of that paranoia within him. I wanted him to distrust his own men. I wanted him twitchy.
“Who knows what Kvelir told the thralls to get them to disembark early?” Grokar was saying.
“Probably that the Prince told him to go on ahead,” Jaetheiri shrugged. “They have sailed ahead of The Finrider enough times for it to be believable.”
Vezemar turned to Yethyr. “Use the loud horn, my prince. They might turn against him once his heresy is known.”
Hegrir shook his head. “I wouldn’t count on it. The thralls of that ship have become pretty attached to him.”
Dath scoffed. “I can’t imagine all of them would be on board for such blatant treachery.”
“I should hope not,” Yethyr said tiredly. “But he might try to convince them that I would punish them for his treachery and feel compelled to help for their own survival.”
“He doesn’t necessarily know that you know his guilt,” Kettir suddenly said. “He wasn’t on the beach for your communion; he is only assuming. Feign ignorance.”
That was an idea.
Yethyr at once raised the loud horn. “Kvelir. I sympathize with your eagerness to keep moving, but slow down your ship,” he kept his voice even and reasonable, devoid of the rage brewing within him. “The lake ahead is dangerous. We should keep together.”
Everyone waited with held breath, but The Wily Seal was not slowing down.
Vezemar patted Kettir’s shoulder. “It was a good plan.”
“Tular has that spyglass.” Dethur frowned. “He probably can see us all standing here, looking suspicious.”
Dath glared at her brother. “You don’t know Tular is helping him!”
“That doesn’t matter,” Vezemar said. “How does he intend to explain his insubordination to the rest of the crew?”
“He’ll find a way,” Hegrir muttered grimly. “Quick tongue that one. Talked me out of 7 arrowheads in a game of Chutlé.”
“Let us assume we are not getting any help from that ship. We must find our own way to catch up.”
“We could use Nisari’s chime,”
“We left it on The Finrider,” Yethyr said glumly.
“Actually, I have it,” Kettir said. He rooted through his knapsack. “I was loath to leave such a powerful thing on the wreck of The Finrider, so I grabbed it.”
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
Yethyr snatched the wind chime from him. “I don’t recommend touching anything made by arcanists so casually.”
He said this while casually touching it.
Yethyr felt Jaetheiri’s glare and forced himself to say, “Recklessness aside, it was good thinking. We can use this.”
“How can you say that so easily!” Grokar cried. “The last time we used it, we crashed!”
“We only need to use it for a short while, just to close on Kvelir.”
Yethyr rushed to the back of the boat to attach the chime and almost tripped over Wes. He was hiding as far from the crowd as he could, curled up on the deck so tightly he looked more like a pile of bones in a cloak than a person.
“What are you doing?”
The pile of bones that was Wes shrugged. “Nothing.”
Yethyr frowned. “You’re shaking.”
He was. The very deathsong keeping him together was stuttering.
“All those people…I drew that circle.” He stared at his bony fingers in horror. “And they all died.”
The Prince was taken aback. “Have you never killed a man?”
I thought of Wes stabbing Mona to take me, and going by his shudder, he probably did too.
“A man, yes. A woman, yes. But that many…I’ve never killed that many.”
“You are a swordsmith of Datrea. Your work has killed many more than that.”
“But I never did it directly! I never…saw it personally.” Wes suddenly looked up at Yethyr, his flaming gaze frantic.
“How do you do it? How did you cut the lives of an entire city and feel nothing??”
Yethyr blinked. “Their lives aren’t ended. They are here.” He touched his pendant. “And here they are safe from the tyranny of Hell. Demons won’t torture them or twist them into mindless stagnant abominations or…or make their bones dance against their will.” Yethyr swallowed. “All those things would have happened to them. They were demon worshippers. But with me…I wouldn’t do that. I make them sing for me, nothing more.”
He thought he was saving the Datreans. He really did, even though he blatantly intended to sacrifice them to his deranged angel. Demons below, he was so stupid sometimes.
Wes stared up at the stupid zealot and said nothing. What was there to say when confronted with such delusional righteousness?
Yethyr took the smith’s silence as victory and brushed past him. He had a chime to set up.
Of course, Yethyr was no windsinger. He had no idea how to set it up. He could only imitate what he saw Nisari do and hope for the best.
I could do more than hope. I could hear windsong just fine. I recognized his every slight misalignment, and if I dropped various suggestions in his mind to correct it, Yethyr either did not notice or did not stop me.
The boat began to pick up speed.
“Everyone, hold on!” Yethyr cried. Last time, he had taken shelter below deck. Now, though, he would have to hover by the chime so that he could take it down if necessary.
The memory of The Finrider’s wreck was still fresh in his mind, and yet…
“We’re gaining on The Wily Seal!” Dath cried from the ship’s bow.
We were. Already, the boat looked ever nearer.
“And if Kvelir uses his own chime to keep his distance?” Jaetheiri asked. She held Yethyr steady. The boat was beginning to rock treacherously.
“He’s the one who can’t afford to crash,” Yethyr said. “He will avoid it, and if he takes the risk, he is the one being chased. We can push him to sail recklessly.”
Jaetheiri hummed doubtfully. “Perhaps.”
We were catching up. Within ten minutes, we were near enough that my sharp senses began to perceive the voices on The Wily Seal.
“Row!” Kvelir cried. “Row! He will slaughter us all if we do not!”
So he was using the “threat of Yethyr’s wrath” strategy to keep his men motivated. It was effective. They had all just seen Yethyr slaughter a whole fleet, after all.
Kvelir gave more commands, engaged and energetic. It sounded like he was even participating in the sailing process, completely at home in a way no other Brinn was.
I could feel how Yethyr and Jaetheiri clung to the side of the speeding boat with white knuckles. They all were. Yethyr wanted to take down the chime, but he resisted.
They were still gaining.
Minutes passed at that frightful speed. It felt like hours. Perhaps it was hours. Everything fell away as Yethyr’s focus narrowed to the ship ahead, growing closer.
The river was widening. Yethyr called it the mouth of the river in his thoughts.
“We’re approaching Lake Huldrai!” Mandorias cried.
He must have been referring to the massive pool of water The Wily Seal had just sailed into. I had not known that was what a lake was, but it was massive. The entire town of Flazea could have fit in it.
There were Selkie seals in that lake, Wes had warned.
“We’re close enough to fire a volley at them,” Dethur cried.
“Do it!” Yethyr commanded. “Aim for the sail. Rob them of the wind.”
Arrows began to fly, but with a rocking, speeding boat as their base, their aim was wild.
“He’s firing back!” Dath cried. It was the only warning before there was a terrible crack.
Yethyr lurched to the side, Jaetheiri holding him upright. “What was that?”
“He must have hit a weakness in the hull,” Vezemar said. “He made a hole with one arrow.”
Yeti took down Nisari’s chime. He would not risk the speed it offered in a damaged boat. “Are we taking in water?”
“We might be.”
“The puncture should be small.” Yethyr hoped it was small. “We might be able to plug it.” He commanded thralls to go down below and do what they could to repair what they found.
The rest of the hunters kept shooting, strangely cheerful.
“What a good shot,” Dath laughed, and many Brinn echoed in admiration even as they were potentially sinking.
I had to hand it to the Brinn and their comedic appreciation for a good adversary. It gave them a good attitude in disasters such as this, and it was a disaster.
We very well could be sinking, and The Wily Seal was sailing away.
Yethyr took up the loud horn. “Crew of The Wily Seal. Kvelir is a thief. No one will be punished for his heresy. Any aiding in his capture will be rewarded.”
I could hear Kvelir with my sharp senses. I heard how he assured all that the Prince lied. He spoke convincingly. If any thrall questioned his explanations, I did not hear.
The ship kept sailing away.
And then, a low horn sounded from within The Wily Seal.
Pure windsong.
Nisari, the Blustering Gale.
She must have carved a new horn, one very different from the one clutched in Yethyr’s hand.
The breeze suddenly changed directions, and The Wily Seal was blown back.
Toward us.
Thank you so much for reading! What did you think? I love comments and often respond to them.
Reminder that the schedule is 6 pm GMT on Tuesdays and 6 am GMT on Fridays. See you guys on Tuesday!
If you were a thrall on the fleeing Wily Seal, whose orders would you follow?
