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Second Draft

1st Tinne 2044

Kasey walked along the sandy beach of the Vasmar, with Farran walking alongside him. The two had left well before dawn -- the sky was just turning gray with the approaching sunrise -- for one of the King's Preserves in Londoun. The rulers of the Kingdom of the Five Crowns had set aside land for preservation near the larger cities, to give the people of those cities some natural grounds.

This preserve was a densely-wooded park along the Vasmar coast, surrounded by the city of Londoun to the south and west, and the edge of the metropolis's docks district to the east. At this hour, it was a quiet, serene forest, with the dull roar of waves rolling onto the beach being the only substantial noise. If Kasey stopped to listen, he could just make out the sounds of Londoun waking up, but most of the traffic in town would wait until the sun was above the horizon.

The beach was deserted, other than the man and horse. Most people who had time to lollygag did not bother to wake up before sunrise.

Kasey had put a halter and lead rope on Farran, but the rope was draped over Farran's neck, not in Kasey's hands. Even so, the warhorse walked slowly next to his rider.

Kasey stopped after a few minutes. After Farran halted, Kasey removed the halter. "Here you go, Farran. Get some running done. We're going to be on the ship for two weeks. I don't think the captain will be putting to shore."

Farran needed no encouragement. The mighty destrier bolted towards the shore, throwing sand behind him as he cantered right into the crashing waves. The horse ran deeper into the water, then dived below the surface. When Farran surfaced a few seconds later, he held a silvery fish clenched in his teeth, its tail slapping futilely against Farran's muzzle.

The horse swam back to shore and pranced several paces away from the waves before dropping the fish. Using a front hoof to pin the fish, Farran ripped flesh from his prey. The warhorse gleefully devoured the fish in just a few bites.

Kasey shook his head disapprovingly. "You are going to get a belly ache if you eat that fast, Farran."

Farran lifted his head to look at Kasey, flicking an ear once before snorting and trotting back into the water to hunt more fish.

The sun had crept above the horizon when Bilbus finally reached the docks. He had a leather backpack stuffed with supplies on his back, and a second bag slung over one shoulder. The mountebank avoided hurrying dockworkers as he returned to the dock that had the Sea Ghost. Now that he had returned to Londoun, however briefly, he had tried to return to his old schedule of keeping awake nights. The early departure time meant that he had not nearly enough sleep before having to hustle to the docks.

The bustle of the docks had gotten well underway at sunrise, and the shouts of dockworkers and the annoying cry of gulls overhead made Bilbus's headache much worse than it needed to be. As soon as I'm aboard, I'll get Bree to fix me something, he promised himself.

The Sea Ghost was a center of activity. Dockworkers moved crates near the gangplanks, and crewmen carried the smaller ones on board. A hoist had been set up on the main deck to lift the heavier boxes aboard. Bilbus spotted Kasey near one of the piles of crates, so the mountebank approached the Church Knight.

Captain de Peltier's voice carried over the din, shouting at men to urge them to move faster, while complaining about the tardiness of the supplies just now arriving. Interspersed in the salty epithets were reminders that the tide would drop in just under an hour.

Bilbus rubbed his temples as he stopped next to Kasey. He glanced up at the Church Knight. "What gives, Kasey?"

"Hi, Bilbus!" Kasey was unbearably cheerful. "Good of you to show up. We thought you were going to miss the ship."

Bilbus gestured towards the crates on the dock. "What do you mean? They haven't even finished loading yet."

"Yeah, but everyone else has been here since about sunrise, helping arrange the crates in the hold. The ladies already settled into their room."

"Good for them. As long as they didn't take the Captain's room. That's mine."

Kasey looked at Bilbus oddly. "No it isn't. It's the captain's room. We are sleeping in the hold."

"Hold? The girls get a room, but we get the hold?"

"Don't worry, Bilbus. There's plenty of room. I got us all comfortable bedding and linens for the trip. We'll need to put the bed frames together, but we can have that done today."

"But Bree and Adria get a room," Bilbus protested.

"Of course. They're ladies. Anyway, Farran only needs about a quarter of the hold."

"Great. I sleep in the stables with the horse again."

A boy climbed out of the hold of the ship and waved towards Kasey and Bilbus. Kasey returned the wave and smiled.

"What he doing here?" Bilbus asked.

"Merek?" Kasey responded. "He's my page, Bilbus. Well, he takes care of Farran and things."

"And he's going with us?"

"Farran is more cooperative for him. Plus, I need someone to take care of my armor."

"You haven't been taking care of it?"

"I'm not talking about this armor. I mean my official armor."

Bilbus had seen Church Knights in full armor before at various major Church events, but he had difficulty picturing Kasey in the shiny armor with gold filigree. "Isn't that armor ceremonial, Kase?"

Kasey shook his head. "Knights who attend High Church functions have ceremonial armor, but all knights also have battlefield armor. It's not as shiny, and it moves a lot easier. It's for fighting, not presentation."

"Oh," Bilbus said. He kept watching the shoremen and crew loading the Sea Ghost.

Some time later, the crates were loaded on the ship. Captain de Peltier had kept a continual verbal assault going until the last of the crates was aboard. When the captain noticed Bilbus and Kasey still on the docks, he called to them gruffly, "If you're leaving with us, you best board now. We're sailing."

Bilbus trudged towards the gangplank, followed by the Church Knight.

Once aboard, Bilbus stopped to look at the deck of the ship. Kasey passed the mountebank, heading for the hold.

"You're not going to watch us leave town, Kasey?" the thief called to the knight.

"Oh, no," Kasey replied as he stood at the top of the steep stairwell into the hold. "We need to arrange things, and get the beds assembled. Best that we do it now, since the sailors are going to be really busy getting us out of the harbor. I don't want to be in the way."

Bilbus grumbled to himself and trudged after the Church Knight. Down the steep stairwells and into the hold Bilbus went. The hold was much emptier than last time Bilbus saw it, shortly after the party captured it from the Anlor Balsil Agralem. The port aft quarter of the hold had been walled off with temporary steel-tubing fencing, giving Farran a serviceable but cramped pen. The roan stallion stood in the pen, watching the rest of the activity in the hold with disinterest while Merek stood by him, scratching his neck absently. Rishala and Eric were in the starboard aft quarter of the hold, arranging boxes to allow access to them without blocking a path to a door in the rear bulkhead. Sturm had one bed assembled, and was busily putting linens on the mattress.

Bilbus eyed the horse warily before he looked at the stack of pre-cut lumber for the bed frames.

Sturm wryly looked at the mountebank. "You don't have to build a bed if you prefer sleeping on straw. I'm sure Farran won't mind much."

The warhorse snorted.

Bilbus grabbed some of the lumber, slid it over to a clear spot on the floor, then set about getting one of the hammers and several nails.

When the mountebank had finished building his bed and putting a mattress and linens on it, all of his companions had already finished. Other than Merek, they had all gone back up to the main deck. He stretched and climbed up the steep stairs to join them.

Most of the men were on the foredeck, looking out at the hazy blue sky and open ocean ahead of the Sea Ghost. Rishala had climbed onto the poopdeck in back, behind the tillerman, to watch the receding city. Breanna and Adria were on the starboard railing of the main deck, watching the shoreline as it slowly got farther away. Adria looked a sickly, pale green.

Bilbus approached the two women. When Adria turned to scowl at him, Bilbus ventured, "Are you all right, Adria?"

The noble glared at him. "Do I look all right?"

Bilbus raised his hands defensively and backed away a pace. "Hey, I was just asking a question. No need to go for the dagger, m'Lady."

Breanna turned around to face Bilbus. "Adria is not taking well to sea travel. I tried a couple of mixtures I know, but they didn't help."

To himself, Bilbus grumbled, "This is going to be a long trip."

Rishala glanced back at the brief exchange between Bilbus and Adria, then turned his attention back to the shore. He glanced to his side when Captain de Peltier approached next to him.

"It's good to be at sea again," the captain said as he looked at the mass of Londoun. "The longer I spend on shore, the less I enjoy it."

Rishala nodded to himself as numerous stories of sailing adventures ran through his mind. "I'm glad someone likes the sea," the Caledonian said.

De Peltier looked at Rishala. "You don't?"

Rishala shrugged. "It's not that I don't. I just don't know how to swim. I get nervous being surrounded by all of this deep water."

"So how did you come by this ship?"

"Ach, well." Rishala switched to his story-telling mode. "My companions and I left Londoun to attend the Beltane Festival in Armagh. On the way, we ran across some vile men attacking a merchant. My companions and I dispatched the highwaymen, and found a letter on one of the men mentioning the coastal village of Saltcliffs.

"After the Fire Festival had ended, we rode to Saltcliffs. There was an abandoned building north of town that smugglers were using, and we were able to sneak into their secret caves. We stopped the smugglers, and in the course of it, we captured the Sea Ghost.

"Brule, the mayor of Saltcliffs, was willing to run the ship for us, so he sailed to Londoun to sell the goods we captured. You would know the rest of the story, since he isn't aboard now."

"It was that simple?" de Peltier asked.

"Simple? No." Rishala was not willing to discuss the details of the trip. Generalizations were acceptable, but describing orcs was another matter. He rehashed the story, embellishing it as he did, and Captain de Peltier nodded to himself as he listened.

2nd Tinne 2044

Adria was on her bed in the main deck cabin that had been the first mate's cabin before the women had boarded the ship. A second bed had been moved into the room for Breanna, across the room from Adria's.

Adria shifted slowly in her bed to look at Breanna. The auburn-haired healer sat on her own bed, watching Adria worriedly. Just the effort of rolling over in her bed was enough to cause another wave of nausea to wash over Adria. The blonde assassin clenched her arms against her stomach in the hopes that somehow it would keep her from losing what few contents she had not already vomited from escaping.

"Can I make you a tea, Adria? It might help," Breanna offered once more.

It had not helped yet, but Adria nodded anyway. She suppressed the urge to gag at the thought of drinking a tea, but it gave Breanna something to do other than hovering nearby fretting.

Breanna got up and crossed the cabin to the door in the forward wall. Breanna opened it as she said, "Fresh air might help, too."

Adria groaned to herself when she saw Eric and Bilbus outside the door. As soon as the thief saw the door open, he invited himself in. Adria felt little satisfaction at the brief flash of sympathy on Bilbus's face when he saw the pail Breanna had placed next to Adria's bed.

"Not doing well?" he asked.

Adria glared at him, but refused to dignify the stupid question.

Bilbus glanced back at Eric, who had just stepped into the room. "Hey, Eric." The explorer turned his attention from Breanna. "I heard of Karasimian medical techniques that involve pressure on certain places on the body to relieve pain. Do you know about those?"

When Eric turned away from Breanna, she ducked out of the cabin to head to the cramped galley to boil some water for tea.

Eric nodded uncertainly at Bilbus. "I never studied medicine extensively. I think there's a place on the hand to relieve stomach pains." Eric squeezed part of his left palm demonstratively.

"I thought it was farther over, around here." Bilbus squeezed Eric's hand close to the thumb.

"Maybe it is," Eric allowed. He looked at Adria, who lay curled on her bed. "Adria, there are some yoga techniques that may help you."

Eric sat on Breanna's bed and crossed his legs. Adria sat upright with great effort, moving slowly to keep from irritating her nausea. Eric closed his eyes and crossed his legs. "Cross your legs, like this. Then relax."

The Sea Ghost hit a particularly rough swell. Eric rolled off of the bed, slamming his head unceremoniously on the deck before he had a chance to unfold his legs and react. The explorer rolled over and sat up, rubbing his left shoulder.

Breanna returned from the galley to find Eric sitting on the deck, a wince of pain on his face as he rubbed his shoulder. "Are you all right?" she asked.

Eric nodded. "I think so. I just pulled a muscle."

Breanna hurriedly gave the steaming cup to Adria. "Let it steep another minute," she instructed her ill friend before she turned her attention to Eric. The healer prodded Eric's shoulder carefully. "Remove your shirt, Eric. Let me make sure it is just a muscle injury."

Eric tenderly removed his shirt. Breanna slowly kneaded the sore shoulder. "It's really tight. This should help."

Bilbus watched the innocent couple, a smirk on his face. "Really, Eric. You should oil up before yoga. Or, at least, before a massage." He glanced at Adria. She had briefly forgotten her seasickness, and she had less of a pasty pallor to her. "Adria, the ship rocks less at the main mast."

Adria watched Breanna and Eric for a moment, smiling faintly to herself. She glanced at Bilbus, then carefully stood on the slowly pitching deck. She set the cup on a table for a moment while she tied a cloak around her rumpled dress, then grabbed the cup again and followed Bilbus out onto the deck. Bilbus turned back to close the door, then followed Adria to the main mast of the ship. After Adria settled onto the wooden deck planks, Bilbus stood over her, studying her.

"What?" she said, a tinge of irritation creeping into her voice. "Not everyone is a sailor."

"I know," Bilbus said as he rubbed his short goatee. "I was just trying to remember if I ever learned how to ease nausea or vertigo." He stopped for a moment, eyes drifting towards the distant horizon. His eyes snapped back to Adria. "I know how to make it worse." A smirk crept onto his face.

"Forget it," Adria growled threateningly.

"I'm jesting, m'Lady. Sheesh."

Bilbus jogged to the open main hold hatch and scrambled down the stairs. He returned a few minutes later with a pair of soft leather gloves. He offered them to Adria.

"What are these for?" she said as she looked at them.

"Take them, Adria," Bilbus insisted. "I sewed some small rocks into the palms of the gloves over those pressure points. If you wear them, they should help."

Adria took the gloves and inspected them closely. The finger tips had been cut off some time ago, from the look of them, but she found fresh patches of cloth stitched into the interior of both gloves. She cautiously pulled the gloves on. They did not fit well, but Adria grudgingly had to admit she felt better.

"Well?" Bilbus asked after a few seconds.

"I don't know if they are helping. It may be because of where I'm sitting."

Bilbus shifted subjects. Keeping Adria from dwelling on her misery may help. "What do you think about those two?"

"Those two? There isn't a 'those two'."

"Not yet," Bilbus dissented.

Adria looked at Bilbus, a sadness in her eyes. "Bilbus, even when Eric finally figures out how he feels for Breanna, it is probably all for naught. They are nobles. Breanna's father will marry her off to another family to cement an advantageous alliance, and she'll wind up in a distant city. If she's lucky, she will never see Eric again. I would really pity them if her dad marries her to someone near Armagh. They would get to see each other regularly, but never be able to be with one another. I would hate to be in that situation..."

Bilbus seized on the chance. "So why are you going back? Is this freedom you have now so terrible?"

Adria's face clouded, but she pretended not to hear the mountebank's questions.

Later in the afternoon, Adria still leaned against the mast. The sun was behind her now, hovering somewhere over the rear of the ship. Adria took advantage of the ample lighting to practice embroidery. After all, proper noble wives always embroidered to pass the time. She carefully pushed the needle with the red thread through the panel of white linen held in the embroidery frame.

Eric watched from over her shoulder. "What are you making, Adria? That's a nice looking blood-red dagger."

Adria lowered the frame and looked over her shoulder, glaring at Eric. "It is a rose."

Eric looked at it, squinting. "Okay. So is that a dagger sticking out of that man's back on the side of the panel?"

Adria's voice was level, but strained. "No, Eric. That is a rose too. This is a lady walking in her garden, admiring roses in full bloom."

Bilbus approached from the front of the ship. He stopped and looked at the artwork on the linen. "Hey, isn't the crossguard on that dagger lopsided?"

Adria smacked a fist on the deck in frustration. "It's a rose! A rose!"

Eric quickly departed, before Adria unleashed her wrath on him as well. Kasey approached to inspect the commotion.

The Church Knight studied Adria's efforts. "Lady Adria." Adria snapped around, ready to yell at the knight as well. Kasey continued, undaunted. "The needle you are using is too big for that fine of linen." He pulled a small leather case from his belt pouch. He unfolded it, revealing a well-stocked sewing kit. Kasey drew a small needle from the kit and held it out to Adria. "Try this one. It should be about right."

Adria took the offered needle and watched Kasey walk away.

"Haven't you seen him sewing?" Bilbus asked when he saw her disbelieving look.

Adria looked at Bilbus and shook her head slowly.

The Church Knight spotted Captain de Peltier on the poopdeck. He approached the captain, who was looking towards the shore, just visible on the southern horizon.

When the captain acknowledged Kasey's presence, the Church Knight asked, "Captain, will we put to shore before Kieta?"

"Only if need be. We have enough provisions to sail clear to Kieta."

"Okay," Kasey said.

Kasey climbed back down the ladder to the main deck, then went into the hold. He returned a few minutes later with a long wooden pole and a length of stout twine.

Rishala had been watching the distant shoreline, thinking of the dream he had of the journey to Celephais. When he saw the large fishing pole the knight carried, he chuckled.

"You're going fishing? Are you tired of the salted meats already, Kasey?"

"Oh, this is for Farran. We won't put to shore before Kieta, and Farran is going to be tired of hay."

Rishala straightened as Kasey cast the line into the water. "You're fishing for the horse?"

"Oh, sure," Kasey replied as he set the pole.

Rishala shook his head as he watched the fishing line drag in the water. The clash of steel on the forecastle grabbed his attention briefly. He glanced up there to see Eric and Sturm brandishing rapiers.

The explorer and the Sun Knight had borrowed rapiers -- Adria's and Bilbus's. Both blades had wooden blocks securely covering the tips to make them safe for contact sparring. The two set in fighting stances, preparing to spar.

Sturm noticed Breanna and Adria watching from near the main mast. "Let's make it look good for the girls," the knight suggested.

Sturm straightened and swung the rapier in a high path. Eric easily blocked the odd swing and quickly drove a thrust into Sturm's unprotected chest.

Sturm scowled. "No, Eric. Stage swings."

"Ohhhh. Got it." Eric stood straight and mirrored Sturm's swings, noisily blocking Sturm's ineffective cuts with his borrowed weapon.

At the mid deck, Adria still struggled with embroidery. She ignored the noisy clangs of the sparring, but she glanced up at a dreamy sigh from Breanna. Adria glanced at the healer, whose own embroidery was temporarily forgotten in her lap. Breanna was watching Eric swing the rapier.

"Give me a break," Adria growled before turning her attention back to her embroidery.

A moment later, she looked back at Breanna. Breanna was absently pushing her needle through the linen she had, but she was still watching the men, not her work. What had been an elegantly feathered bird was now starting to look like Adria's own pathetic attempts.

"Bree," Adria said. There was no response. Adria cleared her throat loudly, getting Breanna's attention. "You know, you ought to see if they will help you with your swordplay."

"But Bilbus was going to teach me to use the rapier."

Adria snorted. "Sturm is a much better swordsman than Bilbus."

"You think so?"

"Bree, Sturm is a Sun Knight. Bilbus is a petty con artist. Who do you think knows how to use a sword? Besides, Eric can probably help as well."

Breanna dropped her embroidery frame, now forgotten, and ran back to the cabin she shared with Adria. She came back on deck a few minutes later in her leather armor, carrying her own rapier. Breanna hurried across the main deck and climbed the ladder to the forecastle. The men had stopped their stage antics, and they listened to the healer hurriedly explain that she wanted Sturm to teach her how to handle the rapier better.

Adria looked to the right. Kasey was tugging on his fishing pole and backpedaling away from the deck railing. Rishala was watching something on the end of the fishing line.

"Grab the fish!" Kasey ordered.

Rishala grasped the struggling fish and pulled it away from the side of the ship. It was a large fish, over two feet long, and it was all Rishala could do to keep it from escaping his grasp. Kasey dropped the fishing pole and rushed to help the story teller.

Once the fish had stopped struggling so violently, Kasey took it from Rishala and strode towards the open hold hatch.

"This I've got to see," Rishala said as he followed the knight into the hold.

In the dim hold of the Sea Ghost, Rishala watched Kasey toss the still-twitching fish to Farran. Farran pinned it to the deck and delightedly ripped a chunk of flesh from his prey.

"That horse is really odd," Rishala said as he watched the carnage.

"No," Kasey countered. "He likes fishing."

"I've never in my stories heard of a horse that likes fishing..." His voice trailed off as he looked at Farran.

Farran stopped gorging to bare his teeth. Even in the dim lighting, Rishala could see sharp teeth in the stallion's mouth, where a horse's vestigial canines should have been. These canines were the fangs of a carnivore. Even Farran's molars were wrong. They had not been rounded by a lifetime of grinding pasture grass and dirt. They still had edges.

Daunted, Rishala asked, "Kasey, where did you get Farran?"

"Oh, it was two years before I finished training. I was a junior page who was sent with some senior pages. See, a year before a page finishes training and becomes a knight, he needs to get a warhorse of his own. You need a mount that you know really well for the mounted combat training. You can't work as a team with a stranger.

"Anyway, I went with the senior pages to the Froach Stables."

Rishala's jaw dropped.

"Oh, you've heard of the Froach Stables?"

Rishala nodded. "Aye! I am from Caledonia!"

The Froach Stables had earned the reputation of having the finest warhorses on the entire Avillonian continent. Rishala had heard rumors for years that Lord Froach's horses were partially supernatural.

Kasey continued his narrative. "We arrived at the stables. Lord Froach requires a page to be able to ride a horse before he can take it. If you don't get along with your horse, you won't last long in a fight. So I was walking around with the other pages in the pastures. We found this one pasture that had a single horse in it, a big mean-looking roan." Farran snorted. "Lord Froach warned the other pages not to bother it, but they all thought he was the best horse they'd ever seen.

"They all walked out into the field, and Farran just started knocking them senseless. I mean, he was really hurting them. One page, Alyn, was on the ground with a broken leg, and Farran was still trying to bite him. It just wasn't fair that Farran was beating them up like that, so I ran out into the field to drag the pages out of harm's way. Farran tried to bite me, so I hit him."

"You hit Farran?"

"Oh, yeah. A good right cross on the muzzle. He stopped long enough to let me get the pages out of the pasture." Kasey looked back at Farran, who had finished his fish.

"I was feeling sorry for Farran. I mean, I hit him pretty hard, and you shouldn't hit horses in the face, and I wanted to let him know that I did not hold a grudge. So I went back to the pasture later in the day with a treat. One of the stable boys said Farran liked fish, and I wanted to let him know I wasn't still mad at him. But he tried to bite me again, so I punched him again. He settled down and took the fish. I guess Lord Froach was impressed. The next day, he asked me to see if I could ride Farran.

"Farran was in one of the corrals. He would let someone lead him around with a halter and lead rope, but he would go crazy if anyone tried to saddle him. I was young and stubborn, so I decided to ride him bareback. Funny thing was, I didn't fall off. Farran has a really rough trot, and he was bucking and kicking worse than any ten other horses. I thought I might break my neck, he was so rough. He even jumped the corral fence and ran into the river with me on his back. I'm surprised he didn't drown himself, he was in such deep water."

Rishala muttered, "I'm surprised he didn't drown you."

Kasey paused. "What?"

"Nothing, Kasey. Keep going?"

"Yeah. Farran got tired of running and kicking, so he went back to the corral. I got off him and went back to the house. I must have been sore for a week afterwards, but that was okay, since Alyn needed that week to heal before we could travel. Lord Froach told Farran that he should go with me.

"I never figured out why Farran decided to go. I will tell you this: he is the finest horse I have ever ridden. He has a rough trot, but his seat is so well defined that it feels like nothing can knock you off his back, even without a saddle."

Rishala realized what he was looking at. "Kelpies are like that," he muttered quietly.

Farran was not merely a foul-tempered, vicious warhorse. Rumors circulated for years that Froach Stables had supernatural bloodlines in some of their destriers, and now Rishala was convinced those rumors were true. Now days, kelpies were popular in bedtime stories as a way to scare misbehaving children in Avillonia, but these creatures were once common in the Vasmar.

The kelpie looked like a horse, but it dwelled in the sea, where it hunted fish and ran under the waves. On occasion, the kelpie would spend time on shore. Invariably, some foolhardy human would try to climb on and break the wild 'horse', but that victim would discover that he could not get off of the kelpie's back. It was a magickal property of the kelpie that was often used to drown the victim when the kelpie would gallop back under the waves. One could not dismount a kelpie without the kelpie's consent.

During the reign of Uther Paendroeg, armies of the Sun King would ruthlessly hunt these monstrous beasts, driving them farther out to sea or into extinction. Caledonians had known for years that those campaigns were never completely successful: kelpies still appeared along the Caledonian coasts, harassing travelers from time to time. And, from time to time, kelpies were rumored to mate with horses, leaving the equine with a foul-tempered half-horse.

Rishala's face had gone pale as he recalled the stories he knew about kelpies. With a start, he realized that he had backed up against the stairwell to the main deck.

Kasey was worried. "Are you all right, Rishala?"

Rishala looked at Kasey, then looked at the kelpie crossbreed standing next to the Church Knight. Farran's eyes had a dim red glow to them. "Yes. I... I need to go back to the main deck. Now."

"Oh. Okay."

Rishala nearly tripped in his rush to climb the stairs. Bilbus was near the top of the stairs, watching Eric give Breanna rapier lessons.

The mountebank looked at Rishala's pale visage. "Oh, don't tell me you're getting seasick, too, Rishala."

"No," Rishala replied. "Kasey went fishing. He fed it to Farran. Farran ate the fish."

"Yeah, I know," Bilbus said. "That horse has really sharp teeth. They just aren't normal."

"No, they're perfectly normal. That's the problem."

Bilbus studied his story-telling friend. "The sea really is bothering you."

Rishala walked away from the hold entrance, wanting to keep as much space as possible between him and the kelpie.

14th Tinne 2044

The captain rarely took a night watch. Normally, the night shift was commanded by the first mate or the bosun. This night, however, was a special one. Captain de Peltier expected to make landfall shortly, in the early pre-dawn hours. Two weeks at sea were soon to be interrupted. The moon, just a few days past full, was well on its way to the western horizon, its cool blue-white glow reflecting off of the dark surface of the Vasmar behind the ship.

One of the deck hands trotted across the main deck and up the aft ladder to the poopdeck. His bare feet made only the quietest sounds on the wooden deckplanks when he got close to Captain de Peltier.

"Captain," the hand whispered. De Peltier ignored the sour stench of the hand's breath. "Noyonne is just ahead. We see the marker lanterns."

The captain smiled to himself. "Signal the shore. Tell them we have guests."

The deck hand returned de Peltier's smile and chuckled to himself. As he returned to the forecastle of the Sea Ghost, he grabbed a shuttered lantern. The deck hand climbed to the front of the forecastle, where he flashed a series of signals towards the shore with his lensatic lantern. After a few seconds of silence, broken only by the continual flutter and snapping of the sails above, three slow flashes from the shore invited the ship to dock.

The full crew of the ship made ready to land -- the night crew roused the day crew from their hammocks quietly to help with the sometimes complex night time landing at the Noyonne pier. Sails were quickly furled, and the ship coasted towards the barely-lit pier. The Sea Ghost drifted to a stop alongside the pier, and deck hands threw stout ropes to barely-seen shoreman who lashed the ship to the dock.

Larger forms in the darkness approached the pier as a gangplank was lowered. Captain de Peltier walked quietly down the gangplank and approached the first of the large forms. The faint rancid aroma of an orc washed over the sea captain.

De Peltier spoke quietly in his native Fronchan, not in Kelltic. "The guests are aboard. The men sleep in the hold, and the women sleep in the starboard officer's room. There are two women, five men, and a boy. There is also a horse in the hold." Captain de Peltier studied the small, dark eyes of the orc. He could not read them. "No harm is to come to the humans, Commander. They managed to steal the Sea Ghost from that arrogant Captain Sigurd. Edralve will want to meet them."

The tall orc stared at de Peltier long enough for the captain to feel the edge of worry creep along his spine. "Very well," the orc commander finally replied, also in Fronchan. "Is your crew off the ship?"

De Peltier glanced around the dock, counting the heads of his crewmen. "They are." The commander started to turn to the other orcs standing on the dock. "One other thing, commander. I think two of the men are knights. I am sure one is a Sun Knight. Another looks to be a Javik, but he carries himself like no Javik I have ever seen, and he wields a sword, not an axe."

The orc smiled slightly, exposing sharp canines. "A Sun Knight. You want all of them alive?"

Captain de Peltier scowled at the orc. "Yes, Commander. I am certain Edralve will be happy to let you have the Sun Knight when she is finished with them."

The commander nodded, then turned to his two lieutenants. He growled his orders to both of them so quietly that the shore noise masked it. The lieutenants saluted, with their right fists quickly touching the brow ridge above their eyes. The lieutenants trotted quietly to the rest of the orcs, who still waited on shore.

Eric awakened, groggy. It was still dark outside, but something had awakened him. There was a painfully uncomfortable spot on his chest. The explorer sat up quickly when he realized that the discomfort came from the small pouch he had received at the elemental temple. Eric grabbed the pouch, then released it in surprise. It was cold enough to burn.

Eric swung his legs out of the bed and onto the deck. He heard quiet noises of numerous feet on the deck, and the occasional rattle of muffled maille armor. Eric was quickly alert.

Bilbus slept in the next bed. Eric leaned over the mountebank and shook Bilbus's shoulder.

"Wha?!?" Bilbus managed to blurt before Eric could cover his mouth.

"Shh!" Eric commanded. "Someone is on the ship."

Bilbus cocked his head to listen as Eric removed his hand. "Not just that," Bilbus added. "We're near shore. Listen. I can hear waves breaking. The sails are pulled in, too."

Eric cursed to himself. He had heard the different noises, but they had not registered. "Help me wake up the other three."

Bilbus rolled out of bed and pulled his leather trousers on.

A minute later, both knights and Rishala huddled near Eric and Bilbus.

"Are they pirates?" Rishala wondered quietly.

"I don't think so," Eric replied. "We're near shore."

More footsteps, this time louder, crossed the main deck. Whoever it was stopped next to the wooden grate of the main deck hold cover. A coarse voice, harsh and guttural, called out in Kelltic, "Surrender and live!"

Bilbus looked at the knights. "Orcs. Can you reach the main deck through the stairwells?"

Sturm and Kasey nodded.

"I'll take the front stairs," Kasey offered. He quietly walked forward, towards a door out of the hold. Sturm padded quietly towards the rear door.

Bilbus looked at Eric. The explorer had readied his long bow, and he was aiming an arrow at a large form leaning over the grillwork.

Bilbus announced, "Very well! I accept your surrender!"

There was a pause. The guttural voice spoke once more. "I do not believe that you are that stupid, human. I would prefer not having to patch holes in you. I repeat one last time, surrender and live."

Past the front door of the hold was the crews' barracks. The cramped room held a smelly tangle of hammocks and small footlockers. Kasey realized that none of the hammocks were occupied. He started padding up the narrow stairs that led to the main deck, brandishing his hand-and-a-half sword ahead of him. At the top of the stairwell, he paused. He adjusted his night shirt, and cinched his swordbelt a little tighter over it. His breeches were a little too light to wear in this weather, but he had not had a chance to dress fully.

With an exaggerated slowness, Kasey lifted the latch on the door. With a faint click, the latch released. Kasey pushed on the door, pressing his face close to the crack to watch for targets.

With a start, the door swung open. Kasey took a long step onto the main deck, his deadly sword brandished with both hands. The Church Knight paused an instant before attacking. There were two orcs, longbows at the ready, standing just beyond the reach of his sword.

The knight raised his arms slowly, releasing the grip on his sword with his left hand. He reached his left hand behind his back to grab his dagger, tucked into its scabbard in the small of his back. Moving slowly, Kasey drew the dagger, keeping it behind him, as he lifted his arms up. Once his left hand was above the back of his loose night shirt, Kasey dropped the dagger into it as he dropped his sword. The weapon crashed noisily to the deck as the sharp dagger fell, pommel first, into the back of his shirt. It lodged in the small of his back, partially under his sword belt.

Kasey took a cautious step forward, arms still high.

Breanna woke with a start, but for some reason she knew she must not move. A sour stink wafted through the room, but it was not Adria getting ill again.

The quiet rattle of maille armor near the door brought Breanna near to panic. She recognized the smell now, and the rattle confirmed her fears. She had to escape.

Breanna sat up quickly, glancing towards the closed windows of the cabin before she saw the looming shadows of the orcs rushing forward in the darkness. Breanna screamed.

The first orc to reach her hit her, a painful blow to the side of her face. Breanna's scream was cut off as she was knocked back into the bulkhead and onto her bed. Breanna rolled onto her back, then realized belatedly that her rapier and dagger were on the far end of the room, hanging from a coat hook by the entrance. She had nothing with which to defend herself.

The orc who hit her stood over her, one hand cocked slightly as if to strike once more. Breanna tenderly touched the side of her face. Her jaw was already swelling, and she could already tell she would have a nasty bruise on the back of her head, where she had hit the wall, but nothing had broken.

Breanna sat up slowly, hoping she did not look threatening. She hazarded a glance towards Adria's bed. Breanna's companion still slept, somehow. How can she still be asleep? Breanna wondered. She looked back at the orc above her. It's tiny eyes nearly glowed in the dim light of the cabin, and Breanna could see the fangs in its mouth as it smiled at her -- or leered at her, more likely.

In a cruel voice, the orc growled, "Get up."

In the hold, Eric kept his bow trained on the shadowy silhouette of the orc on the main deck. In a hushed voice, the explorer said, "Bilbus, I have a shot."

Bilbus glanced at Eric. "Are you sure? We won't have a second chance."

Eric nodded slowly. He took one last slow breath and exhaled.

A scream echoed across the main deck. The voice was suddenly cut short.

"Bree!" Eric whispered hoarsely. He lowered the bow and relaxed tension on the bow string.

Bilbus looked at the Azirian. "Okay. Maybe we can do this differently. I still have Cadell's black sword, and his medallion, too. You can be my 'prisoner'. We can get on deck and see what is going on."

Eric looked at Bilbus for a moment. "I don't have a better idea," he finally decided. He set his long bow on his bed, then joined Bilbus at the foot of the stairs.

Bilbus called up to the orc above, "We're coming out. Open the hold cover!"

After several snarled commands, a few orcs dragged the large wooden cover to one side. Eric walked up the stairs, hands clasped behind his head. Bilbus followed, using as arrogant a gait as he could as he followed Eric up the stairs. Rishala herded Merek after Bilbus, ignoring as best he could the irritable snorts coming from Farran.

Bilbus glanced around the main deck in the ample moonlight. There were nine orcs on the deck, along with the captain of the ship. Two orcs were on the front of the main deck, covering Kasey with long bows at very close range. Two more guarded the rear doors on the main deck, while four orcs formed a loose circle around the hold hatchway. The last orc stood next to Captain de Peltier. Bilbus immediately thought of that orc as the commander, judging from its confidence.

Rishala stood next to Bilbus, keeping Merek close at hand. The story teller leaned towards Bilbus and quietly whispered, "Where's the crew?"

Bilbus replied, "I see just the captain."

Eric kept his hands clasped to the back of his head, but he quietly asked, "Does the captain look upset?"

Bilbus looked at de Peltier. The captain stood calmly, a sword on his belt and his arms free. He was tense, but still was free. "No," Bilbus concluded.

Eric muttered a quiet epithet.

Bilbus turned to the orc commander and put forth his most commanding presence. "I have the prisoners for you, Commander."

Captain de Peltier leaned towards the commander, but spoke loudly enough to be sure Bilbus heard. "That's the one I told you about."

Eric lowered his hands slowly, shaking his head. The bluff was not going to work.

"I can take him," Bilbus said quietly. "The commander. I can get a shot off before anyone on the deck can react."

Eric shook his head. The two orcs guarding Kasey had bows ready, as did the two on the rear of the deck. "No, Bilbus. That would be bad. They would probably kill Kasey. We don't know where the ladies are, nor Sturm, for that matter."

Bilbus walked towards the open door of the ladies' cabin. The orcs watched him warily, but they made no effort to stop him, even though Bilbus still brandished Cadell's black sword.

In the cabin, lit only by the moonlight, Bilbus saw Breanna sitting upright in her bed, covering herself with the bed covers. Adria was asleep, or maintaining the illusion of such. Bilbus could tell that her breathing was wrong for someone truly asleep.

One of the three orcs in the room stood near Breanna, watching her. A second was next to Bilbus at the front end of the room. The third was reaching for Adria's exposed ankle. It grabbed Adria's ankle and started to drag her from the bed.

Bilbus shouted, "Harm her, and I'll harm you!"

The orc watching Breanna turned to face Bilbus. "Or you'll what?" it asked in a guttural Kelltic voice.

Bilbus raised his right hand and cupped it. He concentrated on the flows of Heka nearby, forcing them to collide over his hand. A small display of blue arcs and flame materialized over his palm, casting a ghostly illumination in the room.

The orc looked at the magickal display, then bellowed something in its native tongue. Orcs on the deck relayed the message, shouting it to others on shore. The loud stomps of an orc rushing up the gangplank soon followed.

Bilbus let the Heka flows return to normal. The fireworks dissipated from his hand. Another orc entered the crowded cabin.

In Kelltic, it rumbled, "Which one?"

The guard who had summoned the new orc pointed at Bilbus, then grabbed Breanna's shoulder to force her to stand up.

Breanna winced as she tried to stand. The pressure on her shoulder was painful, and it was placed in just the right spot to encourage compliance. As she stood, she saw the other orc drag Adria out of the bed, ankle first. Adria shouted painfully as her head hit the deck.

Bilbus took a half-step forward and started drawing Heka as harshly as he could. The energies flowing into his body roared, an almost palpable sensation of raw energies.

Over the rush of power, Bilbus heard the newly-arrived orc shout, "Use Heka and die!"

Bilbus ignored the command until he felt a burning, tingling sensation from the orc. The orc was preparing a magickal casting, and he was using far more Heka than Bilbus could. Seething, the mountebank released the magickal energies. His shoulders slumped as he watched Adria get to her feet, arms wrapped tightly around the front of her shift. An orc yanked the bedcovers out of Breanna's hands, leaving her in nothing but a shift as well.

The orc next to Bilbus stopped shaping the magickal flows. Instead, he ordered, "On the deck, now."

Bilbus turned and walked back onto the deck, followed by Adria and Breanna. Eric and Rishala had both surrendered, and Merek clung closely to Rishala, afraid to go past the orcs to get to Kasey. All of the party, save for Sturm, were on the main deck.

Bilbus stopped in front of Captain de Peltier. In a dark voice, the mountebank said, "Well, it was a fine trip you gave us, captain. I truly hope you enjoy swimming with the fishes, because that is where I am going to send you. You and all of these smelly piles of offal you've allied yourself with."

The captain regarded him dispassionately for a moment. The edge of his mouth turned slightly upwards in amusement. "Really, Bilbus? I look forward to the day." De Peltier turned to the commander. "There is one still missing."

The orc commander approached Bilbus. Looming over the short man, he growled, "Where is he?"

Bilbus shrugged. "How should I know? Maybe he's still below decks. He is a deep sleeper."

The commander turned to his lieutenants. "Torch the ship!"

"I want him alive!" Captain de Peltier immediately protested.

The commander regarded de Peltier. "If he is smart, he will surrender. If not, he'll die. If he is so foolish as to die, I doubt he is worth much."

The captain bit back a retort as he looked at the prisoners on the main deck. He nodded, then walked to the gangplank.

The whickering and loud stomps of Farran belowdecks echoed across the main deck.

"What about the horse?" Bilbus asked.

"My men have not had breakfast yet," the commander said before heading to the gangplank.

An orc behind Bilbus shoved the mountebank towards the gangplank.

"I'm walking!" Bilbus snarled as he followed the orc commander towards the plank.

Sturm waited in the bosun's quarters as the sounds in the hold faded. He cautiously pressed his head against the hold door and listened, breathing as quietly as he could. While he could hear the heavy steps of orcs on the main deck, he heard nothing but Farran's occasional stomps in the hold.

Sturm eased the door open and peered into the hold. Farran glanced over his side at the Sun Knight, then turned back towards the main hold hatch and its steep stairs. The Sun Knight slipped into the hold, stepping slowly forward as he watched the opening onto the main deck. He stopped when he was near Farran.

"How many are there?" he asked quietly. Either Kasey was blindly gullible, or Farran really was smarter than other horses.

Farran stamped with one fore hoof. One... Two... Three... Four... Five... Six... Seven... Eight...

"Never mind," Sturm blurted. "Too many of them."

The Sun Knight looked around the hold. Nothing had been disturbed since he had left. His footlocker was nearby, so he took the two steps to it and kneeled. He slowly opened the locker, then grabbed a sack and several pieces of armor. With the armor in the bag, Sturm went back towards the aft door. He stopped at Bilbus's footlocker and opened it. He found the thief's spyglass in its leather case. Sturm slipped the spyglass into his sack, then he slipped back into the bosun's room.

There was a small porthole in the room, barely big enough for Sturm to stick his head through. The stairs up led to the main deck, where there was a fair amount of commotion and too many orcs. Sturm looked around the room, trying to find a way off of the ship that did not involve walking into the orcs' guards.

In the dim shadows of the moonlight that barely shined into the porthole, Sturm noticed some oddly regular alignment of the planks overhead. He set his sack on the empty bed and started feeling around the overhead planks -- the ceiling was low enough that he could easily run his hands along the ceiling.

He found a catch hidden in what appeared to be a knothole in one of the planks. After pushing the catch, he felt a section of the deck above shift. Sturm slowly pushed the section upwards, ready to drop it and run if anyone responded to the action. Nothing happened.

The section of the deck was a square door, set into the floor. Once Sturm had lifted it two inches, it was clear of the deck above. He carefully slid the panel aside. Still nothing. Sturm grabbed opposite sides of the opening and pulled himself upwards.

He was looking into the captain's cabin. There was no one in the cabin, and its door was close. The trapdoor had been covered by a thick tapestry, and it had fit well enough into the deck that it did not rattle. Sturm dropped back to the bosun's room and picked up his sack. He tied it closed, then pushed it through the trapdoor. He pulled himself up afterwards, then put the trapdoor back in place.

Sturm pressed an ear to the door in the cabin. The noise on the main deck had stopped. He trotted to one of the portholes on the side of the cabin and peered through it. The captain's cabin faced the shore, and Sturm could see his companions, surrounded by orcs, being led down the pier towards shore. Several orcs remained on the end of the pier, throwing lit torches onto the Sea Ghost.

The rear windows of the cabin were easily large enough to fit through. Sturm opened one of them, then grabbed his sack of armor and tied it to his sword belt. He checked that the binding strap on the scabbard was in place so his sword would not slide loose, then climbed into the window. He lowered himself slowly into the chill water of the Vasmar, staying close to the hull of the ship to keep hidden. Sturm slowly swam around to the seaward side of the Sea Ghost, watching for orcs and keeping an eye on the surface of the water, anything to avoid dwelling on the chill of the water.

A muffled banging against the hull started nearby. Sturm drew his dagger and tapped the pommel against the hull near the sounds of the kick. He swam a few feet farther along the hull and tapped again. One of the boards of the hull jumped as Farran kicked it.

Sturm snarled to himself and moved several more feet down the hull. The spot where Farran had kicked started buckling as the warhorse repeatedly kicked it. Sturm swam slowly away from the ship, then turned to move parallel to the coast. The sack was getting heavy, but Sturm did not want to lose what little armor he had scavenged. He kept swimming, moving roughly west.

The orc commander looked back at the Sea Ghost when his men started shouting. The ship was already listing away from the pier.

Captain de Peltier looked back at the ship as well. "The one who is missing is a Sun Knight. He was practicing his sword like there was no tomorrow."

The commander grunted. "My men will fetch him after the ship has settled. Let him do what he wants to the Sea Ghost."

Captain de Peltier protested, "But that is now my ship."

"Then your men can repair it," the orc retorted fiercely.

The orcs directed their captives towards a low wooden warehouse near the end of the pier. The large, open door revealed a barren interior well lit by lanterns.

Bilbus studied the building for a moment, then looked around at the dark town beyond the warehouse. He saw several ways he could get out of town without being overly exposed to archer fire, provided he could outrun the orcs. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Adria glaring at him.

"What, m'Lady?" Bilbus spat.

"This is just great," Adria snarled. "What a wonderful plan."

"What are you talking about? This wasn't my idea! I could have taken them at the beginning. Eric told me to wait. 'Patience,' he said!"

"Sure, Bilbus." Adria's voice was devoid of emotion. "I keep forgetting you're the man of action. Dash off and rescue the damsels, and maybe steal a kiss along the way."

The orc commander growled from the rear of the column. "Shut up! Both of you!"

Bilbus stopped and turned around. "Shut up yourself! This is none of your business! Keep out of it!"

The orc behind Bilbus shoved him roughly, nearly knocking him over.

"Good, Bilbus," Adria sneered. "Let's make friends with the orcs now, just to make sure they give us special treatment."

"Oh, and you did better?" Bilbus snapped. "Playing asleep while Bree got slapped around?"

Adria ignored the jibe. She stumbled on the uneven dirt path, muttering quietly "They could have at least let us put on shoes."

Bilbus turned around, walking backwards. He cupped his hands to his mouth and bellowed, "Hey! Did you hear that, orc? Couldn't you let the lady at least cover her delicate feet?" He turned back around, still speaking loudly. "What barbarians! Even Javik are more civilized than you."

The orc mage ran along the column until he was next to Bilbus. "The Commander said for you to shut your mouth, human." There was a brief chill to the air around Bilbus.

Bilbus turned to retort. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. The mountebank tried to whisper, but there was still no sound.

"Thank you!" Adria sighed loudly. "I was getting tired of listening to that man."

The interior of the well-lit warehouse was empty. There was no dust on the wooden floor, and the lanterns overhead burned cleanly, leaving little soot on the ceiling rafters. The orcs herded the party into the middle of the warehouse, keeping the prisoners from getting too close together. The orcs partially surrounded the humans, but there was only one exit.

Bilbus surveyed the situation. He noticed Adria staring at him again, so he moved his hands close together. He signed to her, I can distract them enough for us to get away.

Adria's expression darkened, but she did not respond.

We can escape, Bilbus signed. These morons can not keep us.

Bilbus noticed Captain de Peltier watching him. The mountebank kept his expression neutral when the captain signed to him, You might be surprised, thief.

The captain spoke quietly to the orc commander, who then walked forward towards Bilbus. "Strip to your small clothes, humans." The commander's gaze swept over the prisoners. "All of you."

Merek shuffled closer to Kasey, trying to hide in the bulk of the large knight. Kasey patted the boy's head reassuringly, then loosened the laces at the throat of his own night shirt. He removed his swordbelt and let it drop to the ground, then pulled his shirt off. As soon as the dagger was exposed, it fell noisily to the ground.

The orc commander strode to the dagger and picked it up. He took one glance at the intricate six-pointed star on the end of the pommel, then looked at Kasey, who simply smiled. The commander strode back to Captain de Peltier, holding the dagger so the captain could see the pommel.

"You didn't say this human was a Church Knight," the orc snarled.

The captain blanched and unwittingly backed away from the orc. "I didn't know! He acted like a Javik, not a knight!"

The orc commander tucked the dagger into his belt, then surveyed his prisoners. The Azirian man had folded his overshirt and trousers, placing them neatly in a pile at his feet next to his boots. The Church Knight had dropped his pants and shirt in a pile. The boy next to the knight wore only the oversized shirt he had when the humans had surrendered. The oddly-accented man had removed his sleep shirt as well. He had a necklace with an unusual medallion on still. The women wore night shifts. The obnoxious human still glared defiantly, but he finally was removing his leather armor.

One of the commander's subordinates was trying to remove the necklace from the one man's neck. The human was choking, but managed to curse aloud.

"It won't come off, ye foul-breathed moron!" the man managed to shout.

The orc mage shouted at the orc soldier, then approached the man. The orc looked closely at the necklace, running a large, coarse finger along its surface. "Interesting dweomer on this medallion, man. I have not seen the likes of it often. The dweomer is Phaeree-fashioned." The orc stared at the human's face. "Where did you get this?"

"You would nae believe me if I told ye."

"Keep your secret, then, human. I can think of ways to remove it." The orc smiled menacingly at Rishala. "You would not like them." The mage walked away from the prisoner.

While the orcs were distracted with Rishala, Bilbus edged closer to Adria. He turned his back to her as he held his leather jacket. As he dropped the jacket, he reached back with his left hand to offer Adria a dagger.

"Are you crazy?!?" Adria shouted as she dropped the dagger. It clattered noisily on the floor.

Bilbus groaned inwardly -- he still could make no vocal noises.

The orc commander glared at the two humans. "You." It pointed at Bilbus. "Strip. Let's see what else you hide under your cloth." It turned to the mage and barked an order. Bilbus felt something in his throat loosen.

The mountebank glared defiantly at the orc commander, but did not move. The commander took four fast steps towards Bilbus, then swung at the human. The powerful backhand knocked Bilbus to the ground. Bilbus wiped the small stream of blood from the corner of his mouth, then stood up. Glaring at the commander, Bilbus removed his shirt.

Strapped around his midsection, Bilbus wore a wide belt that supported a pair of scabbards. The belt held two small daggers tightly against Bilbus's midsection, well concealed while he still wore the loose-fitting shirt.

The orc commander roughly unbuckled the concealment belt and threw it against one of the walls of the warehouse. "Remove the small clothes as well," he roughly ordered.

Bilbus stooped to remove his under clothes. Nude, he straightened and put his fists on his hips. With a smirk, he found his voice had returned. "Now you can see why I'm called 'the Great'."

The orc ignored Bilbus as it removed a dagger that the small clothes had hidden.

From across the room, Kasey shouted, "Do you enjoy that, orc? Does it keep you awake at night, these fantasies of undressing men? Maybe playing with young boys is more your style! Do you hear me, orc? Or are you too rapt with ecstasy to even hear me?"

The commander stared at Kasey for a few seconds, then turned back to Bilbus. "Put your small clothes back on, human, while you still can."

An orc rushed into the warehouse. It spoke quickly to the commander in their harsh tongue. The commander barked back at the orc, who then left quickly.

The commander turned to his prisoners once more. "It seems that your horse has jumped into the Vasmar. Perhaps it will swim for help?" It laughed briefly, then turned to its lieutenants to give more orders.

Sturm swam through the cool water, keeping as low as he could as he kept watch on the sinking ship and the darkened town beyond it. Several patrols had fanned out along the coast, groups of four orcs apiece who were likely searching for him. Several more patrols stood on the pier, watching the ship. The orcs' abortive attempt to burn the ship had failed, and they instead stood there, waiting for the ship to settle to the shallow sea bottom.

The commotion on the pier became chaotic. The orcs were shouting, and some had begun firing arrows at the ship. On the deck of the ship, Sturm could see the large shadowy form of Farran. The horse had either climbed the stairs, or the ship had sunk far enough for Farran to swim to the main hold hatch. Under a hail of arrows, the destrier leaped into the calm waters of the Vasmar. The horse disappeared below the surface for an impossibly long time; Sturm started to wonder if the horse had sunk.

An equine head broached the surface of the sea, well over a hundred paces from the crippled Sea Ghost. Sturm cupped a hand and started slapping the surface of the water in a steady beat. Farran's head jerked towards Sturm, and the horse swam towards the knight, with only its head showing above water.

When Farran was close to Sturm, the warhorse dove under the water. Sturm felt a disturbance underneath him, and he soon found himself astride the warhorse. Farran's head poked above the water once again, and the horse swam powerfully, keeping the same course that Sturm had been following.

As Farran picked up speed, Sturm tried to shift his position on Farran's submerged back to try to hold on better. To his dismay, he realized that he could not remove his legs from Farran's sides. Some force held his legs fast. Sturm frowned. He had heard stories about the Froach Stables in Caledonia, but he had not previously considered the possibility that Kasey rode a mount from those stables -- Kasey did not strike Sturm as a top knight of the Knights of Kells.

Farran abruptly dived under the water, twisting about as he did. Sturm had just enough time to hold his breath, and his lungs were on the verge of bursting before the kelpie-horse surfaced again.

"Farran," Sturm snarled once he caught his breath. "I am a human. I can only hold my breath for about thirty seconds if I have a chance to get ready for it. Keep that in mind before you drown me!"

The destrier craned its head about to make eye contact with the Sun Knight for several seconds, its eye glowing a hellish, dim red, as it continued swimming east, two hundred paces from shore.

Sturm briefly wondered if he needed to worry about the painful wound in his arm consuming him. Kelpies may hold a grudge against the Sun King after their near-extermination two millennia ago, and the Knights of the Sun were technically the last of the Sun King's armies.

The orcs marched their prisoners out of the shoreside warehouse and on into the village. The houses were dark, and the shops were closed. The moonlight provided a fair level of illumination, enough to see herds of cattle beyond the edges of the village, and distant snow-capped peaks to the east.

The party was marched silently into another building at the far end of town from the sea. This building was lit inside as well, and the party saw that it contained a large entry room and a hallway with jail cells along both sides of it. The cells had iron bars on the wall facing the hallway, with a section hinged with a lock for a door. The other three walls were thick brick, with no outside windows. Orc guards were in the hallway, opening the cell doors.

The party was separated, each person being shoved roughly into a different cell. The cells were locked, and the two jailers walked to the end of the hallway, where they waited.

The orc mage walked down the hallway to Bilbus's cell. "Human, I strongly suggest that you do not try to channel your way out of this cell. You may not enjoy the results."

The mage turned and left. Once he was out of the hallway, the jailers locked an iron-grate doorway at the end of the hall, then took up positions to either side of it, in the outer room.

Bilbus waited for a heartbeat before he went to the iron bars. He carefully peered both directions, looking for any exits that he may have somehow overlooked. There were none.

Across the hall, Eric sat serenely on the bare stone floor of his cell.

"Eric, I can get us out of here," Bilbus said impatiently.

"No, Bilbus. Not yet."

Rishala called from his cell, at the end of the hallway farthest from the door. "Did any of you pay attention to the village?"

"What about it?" Eric asked.

"It's not an orc village. The buildings are human-sized, and looked like human construction."

Eric thought about what he had seen on the way to this jail. "You're right. But where are the villagers? The only people I saw were the ship's crew."

One of the orc guards slammed a hand against the grated door. The door rang loudly as the orc growled, "No tar keeng!"

Bilbus grabbed onto the bars and called back, "Why not?"

Kasey shouted almost at the same time. "Afraid we'll figure out how to escape?"

The orc snarled, "No TAR keeng!"

Bilbus decided to ignore the guard. He turned back to Eric. "Think they ate the villagers?"

Eric shrugged. "I don't know."

Bilbus snarled quietly, "I don't plan on letting them eat me."

"No tar keeng!"

Bilbus shouted down the hallway, "I wasn't talking! I was conversing!"

"Give it a rest, Bilbus," Eric suggested reasonably.

"No!" Bilbus retorted. "I can get us out of here. It doesn't take much Heka to pop these locks!"

"The orcs can hear you," Eric reminded the mountebank.

"NO! Tar keeng"

Bilbus leaned against the bars of his cell and flailed his arms in the hallway. "Hey, orc! Your mother was an elf!"

The orc pointed at Bilbus from the far side of the iron grill door. "No tar KEENG!"

"Hey! Hey!!!" Bilbus took a deep breath. "Your hair is on fire, and there's a chicken stamping it out!"

The orc stomped one booted foot on the ground in frustration. "No TAR KEENG!"

Bilbus looked back at Eric. His voice was calm and conversational. "Well, that answered one question. He doesn't speak Kelltic." Bilbus sighed. "Look, Eric. I can have all of us out of here in under a minute."

Eric shook his head calmly. "No, Bilbus. If they wanted us dead, we would be dead already. They have had too many opportunities to kill us. They want us alive for some reason. We should see what we can learn before we escape."

"Eric, I can't stay in here." Bilbus was pleading. "I can get out and find Sturm. He can help me spring the rest of you."

Adria and Rishala both shouted, "No!"

"No TAR keen!"

Bilbus ignored everyone else. "Throw Heka and you die. That was what the orc said, right?"

"Bilbus, don't do it," Eric commanded. "Don't channel Heka. Don't try to unlock the cell door."

Rishala had listened to the conversation between the explorer and the thief, but he was only half interested in it. He was tired, and he had a lot on his mind. They had to be getting close to sunrise, but Rishala wanted to get some sleep.

The story teller forced himself to relax. He concentrated on a single thought: Will we die if we do not escape now?.

Rishala had studied numerous divinatory techniques over the years since he had visited Phaeree, including using dreaming to find answers to questions. Using a small amount of Heka to trap the dream and keep it available after waking usually provided answers, if one could interpret the dream correctly. Rishala hoped this would be one of those times.

As he drifted asleep, the Caledonian reached for a small flow of Heka. As he coaxed the flow into his body, he felt a violent surge of energy nearby.

There was a dull roar and a bright orange flash. Rishala's scream was penetrating, echoing through the hallway. Breanna screamed as well -- her cell was across from Rishala's, and it was awash in flame as well.

There was a commotion at the far end of the hall as one of the orc guards unlocked the hallway door. The orc ran down the hallway to look at Rishala.

The Caledonian lay curled in a fetal position, smoke rising from the singed ends of his small clothes and hair, sobbing. "I was only trying to sleep!" he cried out.

The guard looked at Breanna, who was aghast, pressing herself against the outside wall of her cell, as far from the hallway as she could get.

A few minutes later, the orc mage entered the hallway. He stopped in front of Bilbus's cell. "I told you, human. Use Heka and die..." The orc's deep voice trailed off as Bilbus smiled smugly back at him.

Snarling, the mage stomped down the hallway and stopped in front of Rishala's cell. "So. We have more than one Heka user in here."

Still shaking, Rishala repeated, "I was only trying to sleep."

"Of course, human," the orc said mockingly. "Poor thing. Next time, try sleeping without using any Heka."

Breanna shouted from behind the orc, "Let me heal him! He's burned."

The mage turned to face the apothecary. Coldly, he said, "He will live, this time."

The mage walked back down the hallway.

As he passed Bilbus's cell, the mountebank asked him, "Can you channel, or will you set it off, too?"

The orc stopped and regarded the prisoner. "Do you want to find out, human?"

Bilbus stared at his captor. "Yes."

The orc pointed a finger at Bilbus. There was a brief surge of dark, oily Heka, then a glowing bluish dart shot from the finger to strike Bilbus in the abdomen. Bilbus doubled over, clutching the painful wound, as the orc sneered at him. The orc left the prison block without another word.

Farran was two miles from the village of Noyonne before he swam ashore. The destrier stopped and vomited water from his lungs, then took several deep, wheezing breaths to fill them again with air. Being only half-kelpie had its disadvantages. Farran trotted into a dense grove of trees before releasing Sturm.

The Sun Knight realized his legs were no longer magickally pinned to Farran's sides, so he quickly swung a leg over the horse's back and slid to the ground. Sturm quickly crouched and looked about as he untied the strap on his sword's grip. The cool breeze on wet clothing was unpleasant, but Sturm was still free.

Farran walked away from Sturm, then stood and shook the water from his coat of hair.

Sturm watched the village, visible in the pre-dawn light through patches of brush. The only movement in the village was that of the orc patrols. Beyond the village was a herd of cattle that were wandering out into the pastures.

A wave of exhaustion washed over the Sun Knight. He sat down and leaned against a tree. There was nothing he could do to help his companions right this moment, and fatigue contributed to mistakes. He drew his hand-and-a-half sword and shook the weapon a few times to get some of the water off of it. It was well-oiled, so the submersion would not affect it too badly. He then took his scabbard and tipped it upside down and leaned it against the tree, so the water in it would drain. The sack with the armor was porous, but Sturm emptied it anyway. He took Bilbus's spyglass out of its case and inspected it carefully. It did not appear to be damaged by its immersion in water.

Resolved to get a little more rest, the Sun Knight lay the sword across his lap and started breathing shallowly. Within a few minutes, he was sleeping lightly.

A few paces away, the roan kelpie was snoozing, as well.

A couple hours passed before the sun crawled over the jagged mountains east of the Noyonne Valley. As its first warming rays touched the napping Sun Knight, Sturm woke up. He looked around, making sure the grotto in which he hid was still undisturbed, then slowly got to his feet. He stretched, holding his sword in hand, and studied the valley now that he had light.

The village was clustered at the mouth of a quickly-narrowing valley. A stream trickled down the middle of the valley, emptying into the Vasmar somewhere along the village's shoreline. A row of foothills lined both sides of the valley, and steep mountains reached skyward to the east and south as far as Sturm could see. The taller peaks were still snow-capped, and wispy clouds hid some of them.

The coastline stretched westward as far as Sturm could see, but curved north once it was past the village. The valley itself pointed southeast, climbing into the mountains. A trail or road snaked its way up the valley from Noyonne, and a few cottages were spaced along the trail, framed by well-organized fields.

Sturm dressed in the pieces of leather armor he had managed to pack, then attached Bilbus's spyglass to his sword belt. He took the spyglass out of its case and extended it to study Noyonne a little bit better.

The orc patrols stayed near the village, never more than a half mile from the pier. Some people were now moving in the village, giving it the appearance of a normal town. At the end of the pier, the Sea Ghost lay in several feet of water. Its main deck was now just above the waterline on the shoreward side, and it was submerged on the seaward side. Orcs were on the ship, moving around as if they were still searching for people on board.

Sturm kept watch on the village for over half of an hour before an other activity took place. Horses were being hitched to three wagons. They were led to a long building on the far end of town.

Sturm turned to find Farran. The destrier slept standing, his muzzle nearly touching the low grass.

"Farran!" Sturm whispered. "Wake up!"

The roan ignored the knight.

"Farran!" Sturm spoke quietly. "It is time to wake up. We have been here long enough."

Farran slowly opened his eyes, fixing one of them on the Sun Knight. He lifted his head, then plodded towards the coastline. Sturm watched the kelpie jump into a wave and dive under water. A minute later, Farran trotted back on shore, a fishing struggling in his mouth. The kelpie tore into the fish, quickly devouring it.

Sturm waited until the warhorse finished. "I don't suppose you would be willing to grab me one of those, would you?"

Farran snorted towards Sturm before jumping back into the waves. He returned a few minutes later with another fish that he carried up to Sturm and dropped at his feet. Sturm used his dagger to start cleaning the scales off of the fish. Raw fish was still better than no fish, and those raw fish he had eaten at the Ithell manor house were not that bad.

An orc walked down the jail hallway, banging a pair of pots together loudly. Bilbus sat on the cold stone floor of his cell, resisting the urge to fire a rapid barrage of Heka bolts at the offending beast. He withheld his fire, instead rubbing on the painful welt in his midsection where the orc's magickal bolt had struck.

Eric sat in the cell opposite Bilbus. "I guess we shall see where we go next," the explorer said after the orc jailer had left the hall.

Bilbus grunted and stood up. The jailer returned a moment later to unlock the cell doors. It snarled something at Bilbus and pointed towards the front room of the prison.

Bilbus walked out of his cell and into the front room. Several armed orcs stood around the edges of the room, and the orc mage and commander stood next to the entrance to the building.

Bilbus smirked threateningly. "All this for me? Really, you shouldn't have."

The mountebank heard his companions shuffle into the room. He glanced over his shoulder at them. Both Breanna and Adria had their arms folded across their abdomens. Breanna shivered as she looked at all the orcs. Kasey helped Rishala along, taking care to avoid touching the bright red burns on Rishala's arms. Merek hovered close to Kasey, watching the orcs fearfully. Eric stood serenely, gazing around the room with an air of disinterest.

Once the prisoners had assembled in the center of the room, the orc commander spoke. "Come along, humans. You are going for a trip."

Outside the prison, the humans were led single file towards three wagons. The first two wagons had six wooden crates apiece. Each crate was just over a pace wide, a pace tall, and a pace long. All had hinged lids on top that had narrow windows with iron bars. The third wagon had a few assorted crates and chests, all conventional.

A woman walked quickly out from behind the wagons. She wore a dark gray dress, nearly black, with a matching bodice. Her hair was a fierce copper color, and she had shockingly green eyes. Her hands were balled into fists, and she had a harsh glare.

Adria felt her knees buckle when she saw the woman. A dream that Adria had nearly six weeks ago was resurfacing in her consciousness. Adria had fought to suppress the dream for days, not wanting its hellish memories to wear her down, but the fight was now lost. It welled back into her mind with a crash.

The dream had started unpleasantly enough. Adria had found herself on a platform in an open-air auditorium. Groups of pasty-skinned men were scattered about in the seats of the auditorium, leering at her and the other dozen women on the platform.

Bidding soon started. One of the men climbed onto the platform and started expounding the values of Kelltic women, and the other men started calling out prices in strange denominations. One of the women sold quickly, and bidding started on Adria.

A fierce red-headed woman in a dark dress stormed into the auditorium and halted the bidding. She said that all the women on the platform were destined to go to the "Forges". The auctioneer protested, but he quickly acquiesced when the woman offered to send him in their stead.

The next thing Adria knew, she was in a hellish cave, surrounded by screams of agony. She had been chained to some sort of upright restraint, where she could watch a man mechanically finish preparing a sword, using a lava vent for his forge. After he finished preparing the sword, and he had quenched it in a barrel, he approached Adria, chanting some sort of incantation. He stabbed the cruel blade into her abdomen just as she awakened from the nightmare.

That Adria later saw an identical sword in the witch's tower was bad enough. That Shadow Kindred wielded the weapon was worse. But seeing the cruel woman from her dreams was almost too much to bear.

The woman glowered at the prisoners, studying each for a few seconds, before she spoke to them. Her voice was hateful and mocking. "Welcome, guests. The Lady Edralve will be very glad to meet you. It is rare that someone steals a ship from us."

She then moved away from the wagons. The orc commander got in front of the line of prisoners. "Get in!" he shouted.

When no one moved, one of the orc guards walked along behind the prisoners. He shoved Rishala forward, nearly knocking the burned man to the ground. The Caledonian stumbled, then stopped moving. Again the orc shoved him forward, towards the first wagon. Rishala slowly climbed onto the wagon. The orc climbed up after him. Rishala stepped into one of the boxes. The orc pushed him downwards, until Rishala curled up in the box. The orc threw the lid closed and placed a large lock on it.

The orc commander pointed at Bilbus. "You next."

Bilbus shook his head. "Like Hells I'll get into a box! Isn't it enough for you to treat us all like animals? Now, you're going to treat us like cargo!"

The orc mage strode to Bilbus and struck him. Bilbus felt a twinge of Heka surge through him just before consciousness left. Bilbus crumpled to the ground.

The orc mage stood over the unconscious mountebank. "Perhaps you can be more compliant now, little gnat."

Two orcs lifted Bilbus onto the wagon, then dumped his limp body into one of the empty boxes.

Kasey started walking towards them, fists balled tightly.

"Kasey! No!" Breanna shouted after the Church Knight.

The orcs turned towards the knight. Kasey lunged at the first, his hands reaching for the orc's throat. The other orc balled both fists and slammed them on Kasey's back. The Church Knight fell to his knees, but leaped back to his feet, swinging at the first orc once more. Two additional orcs charged Kasey, while a third drew an arrow on its long bow, aiming at the blond giant.

"No!" shouted the orc commander. "I want them alive!" It switched to its native tongue to repeat the command.

The orc mage shoved its way into the brawl. It grabbed Kasey on the shoulder. There was a surge of Heka, then the knight collapsed. One of the orcs kicked the Church Knight. The mage slapped the orc, leaving a bleeding welt on the warrior's face.

Two orcs lifted the bloodied and bruised knight onto the wagon, then stuffed him into one of the cells.

The orc commander looked at the rest of the prisoners. "Do we really need to go through all of this extra pain? My men will not harm you if you obey. Resist, and you will continue to be hurt."

There was a long silence, then Eric stepped forward slowly. He climbed onto the wagon, watched closely by the orcs. He kneeled in one of the boxes, then caught Adria and Breanna's expressions.

"It will be easier for us if we do not fight them," he said. "We will get our chance later, I am certain."

He curled up in the box, keeping still as the heavy iron-grate lid was dropped in place and locked.

Sturm watched his companions get into tiny crates on the backs of wagons. Kasey made a foolhardy attempt to fight his way out of the area, and it looked like he bloodied himself with nothing to show for it. Bilbus had tried to resist, showing a lot more bravery than Sturm would have expected from the thief, but he, too, had been disabled. The rest of the party had boarded much more complicitly.

The loaded wagons started to roll up the valley along the trail. Even at this distance, Sturm could see that the ride was rough. Everyone would be bruised before those wagons reached their destination.

Sturm looked around the valley again. The orc patrols still had not ranged far from the village, but Sturm had little doubt that they would start searching in earnest soon. Farran splashed in the waves, hunting fish. The only humans Sturm saw were submissive villagers in the town.

The only ally the Sun Knight had was a half-kelpie who would probably just as soon kill him as help him.

End Book I: Dawn of the Tempest

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Continue to the next chapter: Book II: Smokes

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Second Draft 19 May 2002

Original Draft 27 December 2000

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