King Breaker (8 page)

Garzik gasped. ‘I’d heard tales, but never... They really do fly.’

‘They have wings.’ Rusan joined them. ‘But they’re not flying. They glide through the air, then drop back into the sea, build up speed and glide some more.’

Now that the sarres were closer, Garzik could see Rusan was right. He could also see... ‘They’re huge.’

‘Good eating, too.’ Olbin winked. ‘If you can catch them.’

The Utlanders didn’t settle Affinity beasts’ power before consuming their flesh. Garzik suspected this was the reason for their strange eyes, which contained a pale ring inside the iris. Other than this, they were the same as him and not a baser race, as he’d been taught.

Rusan’s crew cheered the Affinity fish.

‘They could easily overtake the ship. Why do they stay alongside us?’ Garzik asked. ‘Why do they leap out of the water? Surely it takes more effort than swimming?’

Olbin shrugged and glanced to Rusan.

‘They’re curious,’ the captain said, accepting his pipes from Luvrenc. ‘They like to play.’

Rusan began a high, fluting tune that seemed to follow the movements of the elegant, leaping sarres.

Garzik watched, entranced. Then he frowned. ‘Are they...’

‘Keeping time with the music?’ Olbin nodded.

‘Amazing.’ Garzik knew Affinity beasts were smarter than their mundane counterparts, but he had never thought of fish as being intelligent. Orrie would find this fascinating.

Yet again, Garzik was reminded that he lived a lie. And he did not even know if his brother and sister had survived the Merofynian invasion.

Luvrenc clutched Garzik’s arm. ‘Look!’

Several large creatures sped through the water towards the ship. Coming in at an angle, it looked like the predators would trap the sarres against the side of the vessel.

Rusan blew one shrill note and the sarres reacted. Garzik had thought them fast before; now they took off, easily outstripping the ship.

But not fast enough, as their pursuers put on a burst of speed. Garzik’s heart leapt as a sleek, rainbow skinned predator shot out of the water, taking one of the sarres in mid-flight, disappearing with it below the surface. ‘Was that—’

‘A scytalis? Yes.’ Rusan fingered his pipes. ‘They hunt like a pack of wolves.’

‘Sea serpents...’ Garzik had heard sailor’s tales of the Affinity beasts, with coats of iridescent scales. The scytalises were bigger than the biggest of the flying fish. And fast. Both hunter and prey had left the ship behind, but he could still see flashes of silver as the fish glided through the air. Only the old and slow would get eaten, leaving the fastest to survive and breed. ‘The sarres developed the ability to leap and glide to escape their predators.’

Olbin laughed. ‘Always watching, always thinking.’

But Rusan gave Garzik a thoughtful look, as he handed Luvrenc his pipes. ‘Back to work, Wynn.’

Garzik went down to the middeck, where the Utlanders returned to their tasks.

‘Get over here,’ Jost snarled, as if Garzik was still a slave. He had made Garzik’s life miserable since the day the ship had been captured. On that day he’d sliced off Garzik’s ear to match his own missing ear.

Behind Jost, Trafyn watched with a malicious gleam in his eye. Lord Travany’s son, he’d been serving as Lord Neirn’s squire. He and Garzik had been enslaved together and suffered indignities Garzik would rather not remember. Driven by hunger, they had eaten unclean Affinity-tainted meat like Utlanders. But Trafyn was still a slave, having made no attempt to learn their captors’ language or earn their respect. The squire did as little work as possible, certain his father would ransom him.

‘Yes, you.’ Jost beckoned Garzik, then gestured to the ropes. ‘See that these are mended by the time I come back.’

He aimed a blow at Garzik, who ducked just enough to lessen the force of impact, but this didn’t satisfy Jost.

He gestured to Garzik’s Utlander jacket. Thigh-length and belted at the hips, it was made of goat’s wool, dyed red, with elaborate embroidery around the hem, sleeves and neck. It had been given to him the night the settlement accepted him. ‘Rusan might have declared you one of us, but he won’t be captain forever. So move when I tell you.’

As Garzik turned away, Jost shoved him so hard he collided with Trafyn.

The squire smirked. ‘Looks like being the captain’s joy-boy has some drawbacks.’

‘Looks like being a prick comes naturally to you,’ Garzik muttered, but he watched Jost’s retreating back. Was Rusan’s leadership in danger?

The one-eared Utlander said something to his companions, and they all glanced to Garzik and laughed.

Trafyn snorted. ‘Looks like you’ll be a joy-boy long after I’m—’

Garzik spun around, caught the front of Trafyn’s jerkin and pulled him close. ‘I was there the night we were captured. I know what went on. What still goes on.’

Shame and anger made Trafyn flush, and his eyes gleamed with unshed tears. Up this close, Garzik noticed the tell-tale pale circles around his pupils. The Utland marking in Trafyn’s eyes wasn’t visible from a distance, but the effect of eating Affinity contaminated meat had begun.

Garzik was so shocked he let Trafyn go.

Were his own eyes undergoing the same change? Would he be marked forever?

The squire straightened his ragged Merofynian jerkin, voice shaking. ‘At least I didn’t side with savages.’

‘And I didn’t kill a twelve-year-old boy.’

‘He was a renegade. They would have killed him anyway.’

Garzik frowned. Vultar had escaped on one of his ships, but the other had burned to the waterline, stranding some of his renegades. Rusan’s people had cut their throats.

‘You know I’m right. They’re savages!’

‘Shut up. Just... shut up.’ Garzik stalked across to the coiled ropes and knelt.

His fingers flew as he spliced the hemp fibres. Maybe he wasn’t as smart as Orrade, but he wasn’t slow, and he’d been quick to learn the ways of the sea. And maybe he had changed sides the night the renegades attacked, but he’d fought to protect the settlement’s women and children, and he hadn’t killed an unconscious boy to prove he was a man.

‘Why is it so cold?’ The squire hunched low to keep out of the wind. ‘It shouldn’t be this cold, this close to summer.’

Garzik said nothing.

‘These crazy Utlanders don’t seem to feel the cold.’

It was true. Enduring without complaint was a matter of pride with them. Scorning hot-land luxuries, the Utlanders slept on deck, wrapped in furs. In some ways, Garzik had more in common with Rusan and Olbin than with Trafyn.

‘We’re sailing south. Every day we draw closer to home.’ The squire lowered his voice. ‘You should tell them about my father. You know enough of their language now. Tell them he’ll pay well for my return.’

Garzik said nothing.

‘Tell them and I promise you’ll be rewarded. My father’s a powerful man. He’ll—’

‘Shut up about your father. Shut up and work.’

‘I’m not taking orders from you. At least I
have
a father.’

‘Shut up.’

‘Soon I’ll be home free, but you’ll be a savage sucking cock for the rest of your life,’ Trafyn sneered. ‘Utland lover!’

Garzik leapt for his throat, driving him backwards onto the deck. As they struggled, the Utlanders gathered around, shouting encouragement. Garzik had grown up wrestling with his older brother and Byren, and both of them had outclassed him in weight and strength.

By the time Olbin pulled him off Trafyn, Garzik was pleased to see that the squire was bruised and bleeding. Maybe Trafyn was right, and he was turning into a savage.

He didn’t care.

Olbin thumped Trafyn to silence his whining, then turned to Garzik. ‘What did Lazy-Legs do now?’

Garzik shook his head.

Olbin shrugged and thrust Trafyn towards the ropes. ‘Back to work,
belongs-to-no-one
.’

It was the Utland word for
slave
. It meant there was no one to avenge his death.

The squire staggered, then recovered his balance. He straightened his jerkin. They were not far from home, which seemed to embolden him. He lifted his chin, addressing the big Utlander as if he were a servant.

‘I’m Trafyn of Travantir Estate.’ He gestured to Garzik. ‘I’m tired of waiting. Tell them my father is Lord Travany, and he’ll give them gold for my release.’

Garzik was about to refuse, when he realised he might be able to escape during the exchange, so he struggled to convey the concept of ransom in the Utlanders’ tongue.

‘Trafyn of Travantir Estate?’ Olbin mocked the squire, speaking Merofynian parrot fashion. He glanced around, inviting the others to laugh. Nearly twenty raiders had gathered, eager for entertainment.

‘My word’s as good as gold,’ Trafyn insisted.

‘He is worth gold,’ Garzik translated.

‘I see no gold. I see a lazy hot-lander who thinks he’s better than us.’ And with that, Olbin grabbed Trafyn. Despite his size, the big Utlander was fast. ‘I see a belongs-to-no-one who needs to learn his place.’

Olbin hauled him to the side of the ship, Trafyn protesting indignantly, then desperately. Up near the foredeck cabins, Olbin tied a rope around the squire’s chest and dangled him over the side. Each time the ship cut into the wave Trafyn got a drenching, and each time the prow rose he screamed louder. Garzik didn’t blame him. He’d seen what those scytalises could do.

As the Utlanders laughed at the squire’s desperate cries, Garzik hardened his heart. Trafyn had brought this on himself.

Finally, Olbin hauled the squire up and dropped him onto the deck, where he huddled shivering and sobbing with fury.

‘Sail over the port bow!’ the lookout called.

Olbin ran up the steps to the reardeck to join the captain. Everyone waited, hoping.

A moment later, Olbin returned to the rail bellowing orders to raise more sail. Garzik felt the ship respond as she changed course. The Utlanders cheered, checked their weapons and boasted of their prowess in battle.

Garzik peered at the other ship’s silhouette, feeling sorry for the crew. When the Utlanders had captured Garzik’s ship, they’d put everyone but him, Trafyn and another squire to the sword.

Trafyn stumbled over, teeth chattering so badly he could hardly speak. ‘Y-you were n-no help.’

He looked so miserable, Garzik took pity on him. ‘Strip and find some dry clothes before you catch your death. I’ll finish the ropes.’

But Trafyn didn’t get a chance. Jost sent Vesnibor to grab the squire. Vesnibor was only a couple of years older than them, but those years had been spent raiding, as his scars and twice-broken nose attested. He dragged Trafyn to the mainmast and tied him up, jerking on the ropes with unnecessary force.

Garzik watched; the last time the crew had attacked a ship he’d been a slave, and they’d tied him to the mast along with Trafyn.

Vesnibor strode over to Garzik. They were the same height, yet somehow the raider still managed to loom. ‘If I had my way, you’d be tied up, too. Once a hot-lander, always a hot-lander.’

Vesnibor swaggered off to join Jost and his two half-brothers. The one-eared Utlander met Garzik’s eyes and spat.

Shame filled Garzik. If he escaped, it would confirm their opinion of him and undermine Rusan’s leadership.

But he had a duty to Byren. If Byren still lived.

The ship plunged through the waves, timbers groaning in protest. This was a flat-bellied merchant vessel, designed to carry cargo, not travel at great speed.

‘Fly the hot-landers’ flag,’ Rusan yelled from the reardeck. ‘When we get close, everyone out of sight. I’ll take the wheel.’ He adjusted the fit of his fancy Merofynian coat and everyone laughed.

Luvrenc raised the Merofynian flag, and Garzik’s heart sank. The other ship’s captain wouldn’t realise he was being attacked until it was too late. In fact, he would probably welcome another merchant ship. Safety in numbers.

But there was still a chance the merchant sailors might fight off the Utland raiders. Garzik fingered the hilt of his short sword, wondering if he should help the sailors. To be brutally pragmatic, there was no point helping them unless it looked like they would survive and he could escape with them.

‘Don’t tell me you’re going to kill your own people to win favour with a bunch of savages?’ Trafyn sneered. ‘Traitor.’

Garzik considered the squire. Lord Travany would be grateful to have his son back, especially if he didn’t need to pay a huge ransom. Mitrovan would be Lord Travany’s slave by now, and the scribe might have useful information for Garzik to pass along to Byren.

He edged closer to Trafyn. ‘This might be a good chance to escape. I’ll loosen the ropes. If the Rolencians look like they’re fighting off the attack, wriggle free and—’

‘I’m not going to risk my life. Not when I’m going to be ransomed.’

‘Wouldn’t your father prefer you to save yourself?’ Garzik glanced around to be sure no one was watching, and adjusted the ropes so that they would part easily. ‘Wouldn’t you like to save him the cost of your ransom?’

Trafyn’s eyes lit up at the thought, then his shoulders slumped. ‘What if Utlanders take the ship and kill everyone?’

‘There’s a chance they might, but the other ship could fight them off and, if they do, we can escape. So be ready.’

Trafyn looked torn.

Garzik didn’t know if he would come through. Just as he didn’t know what he would find when he got home. Last he’d heard, Rolenhold Castle had fallen, the king and queen were dead, Lence Kingsheir was dead, and Piro...

He mustn’t think of her.

Last he’d heard, Byren had fled and Cobalt the Usurper sat on the throne.

But Garzik refused to despair. All he had to do was escape, return Lord Travany’s son and see if Mitrovan had learnt anything that would help Byren, then return to Rolencia and find Byren.

All Garzik had to do was betray Rusan and Olbin.

To be forsworn was a terrible thing.

Chapter Seven

P
IRO LOOKED UP
as Runt backed into the cabin with her evening meal. She had refused to join the captain and Siordun for dinner. After spending all afternoon trying to make the pendant glow, she was beyond frustrated.