The Crown Of Yensupov (Book 3) (6 page)

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Authors: C. Craig Coleman

BOOK: The Crown Of Yensupov (Book 3)
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“Bodrin, is that you?” she asked.

There was no response and she froze. She heard it move closer through the shifting driftwood branches. Her heart pounded but she was too terrified to jump and run. She raised the sword over her head with both her hands. A cloud moved past and in the moment before another cloaked the moon, the light shone through on something the size of her leg not two feet from her.

“Cripes!”

She slammed down the sword whacking the glistening black thing in two. A piece thrashed in among the gnarled wood. Tonelia jumped up and ran back up to the others, who were still asleep.

Well, I’ve killed it. No need to wake them, she thought.

Bodrin shuffled in his sleep and Tonelia lay down next to him, putting his sword back within reach. She eventually calmed down enough to sleep.

Next morning, Bodrin woke first and found his sword with dried blood all over it. “Cripes! What’s happened to my sword?”

Tonelia woke, yawning and stretching, “Oh, I whacked something last night down by the water when I went to take care of business.”

“Well, you’re mighty calm about it.”

Hendrel walked down to the driftwood tangle to relieve himself. “Hey, y’all come here.”

“What is it?” Astorax asked.

“I’d say it’s a water-dragon,” Hendrel said. He turned to Tonelia, last to arrive. “Looks like you got a big one, Tonelia.”

She gawked at the head, mouth, gaping open, sliced clean at the cold, stiff neck. The body was as thick as Bodrin’s thigh and went out into the water as far as they could see.

“Great work, Tonelia,” Bodrin said.

Tonelia’s eyes rolled. She crumpled onto the sand.

Bodrin rushed to her. “Tonelia! Tonelia! Are you all right?” He carried his unconscious love up to the trees, where he put a wet compress on her forehead.

“What happened?” Tonelia asked, coming round.

“You got a look at your victim.” Bodrin brushed back her hair. “You’re very brave.”

“Brave, nothing.” Tonelia shook her head and repositioned her hair. “If I’d known what was right beside me last night, I’d still be screaming and running in circles around this sand pile.”

After eating, Tournak and Tonelia packed up. Bodrin, Saxthor, and Hendrel struggled and eventually pushed the water-dragon’s body out into deep water, where it bobbed once, then sank. The head floated. As they turned back, Astorax noted movement on the water. “Look at that.”

A reptilefish shot up from the depths, snapping at the dragon’s head. More appeared. They stripped the flesh and plunged into the dark water leaving just ripples.

“Don’t say anything about that to Tonelia,” Bodrin said.

“Agreed,” Saxthor said.

Tonelia heard but thought, I don’t want to see what they’re talking about.

The crew piled into the boat after removing all traces of their having been there, then sailed on southwest.

“I know this isn’t on the map as a lake, but it has these huge water-dragons and reptilefish living in it. It must be an inland sea,” Hendrel said. He looked over the water. “I wonder if the Dark Lord flooded the area to prevent Southern incursions once a war starts.”

“Seasonal flooding, unknown lake, or intentional plot, this is more than a swamp,” Saxthor said.

The next night they had to sail on through the dark. Again, they heard reptilefish splashing in the water feeding on something. Tonelia thought she saw a water-dragon too.

“So long as it doesn’t try to attack the boat, we’ll mind our own business and hope it does the same,” Saxthor said. He instinctively put his hand on Sorblade’s hilt.

“All this splashing in the dark is wearing on my nerves,” Tonelia said. “How do these things live in this endless decaying soup. The smell alone should kill them.”

Bodrin nodded.

Toward morning, a water-dragon rose from the depths, reared up out of the water, and hissed. It scanned the boat from recessed red eyes and snorted fire from its nostrils. Only the oars seemed to keep it at a bay. The monster circled the boat, flippers slapping the water periodically.

“The one that attacked the boat before came up under the oars,” Bodrin said. “This beast seems intent on getting past them.”

It shot fire at the oars.

“Eat this!” Hendrel shot wizard-fire at the circling water-dragon and seared one eye. The creature shrieked and dove under the water. Bubbles boiled up from the depths. No one slept; everyone scanned the black water for signs of the beast, surfacing again, but it didn’t. By dawn, they were all exhausted.

“Dragons at night, then flies showed up with heat and humidity when the wind dies down in the morning,” Tonelia said. “Is the water getting thicker with that goop?”

“We must be approaching land,” Bodrin said.

“We need to find the Akkin River on the border with Prertsten when we do reach the swamp’s western shore,” Saxthor said. “We’ll take turns sleeping and rowing to keep on course.”

Just at dusk, they spotted an island.

“What’s that on the island?” Hendrel asked.

“Looks like a building, a hut” Tournak said.

“Solid ground,” Tonelia said. “My legs are cramping from sitting in this tub so long.”

“At least the island looks larger than the others we’ve landed on,” Bodrin said. “This one has a few live trees, not just the dying sticks we’ve seen before. There’s a bit of grass and some low bushes, too.”

Approaching the shore, they rowed around it watching the building.

“Anyone there?” Saxthor said.

“Looks to be a maybe a two room stone building with a grass thatch roof,” Bodrin said. “Anyone living there could hear us.”

“Someone’s been there recently or the thatch roof wouldn’t be in good shape,” Saxthor observed.

“How could anyone live there?” Tonelia asked. “I don’t see a garden, or room to grow much on this small spot. It’s not big enough to support livestock.”

“It might be a watchtower or a place of exile,” Tournak said. “Be careful.”

“Well, we have to stretch our legs,” Saxthor said. “Bodrin, you and Tournak check the building. Watch your backs.”

They poled the boat up to the shoreline. Bodrin and Tournak jumped off with their swords in hand and crept up to the building.

“Anyone home?” Bodrin asked.

“Don’t kill me.” A wrinkled, darkly tanned man with tangled, gray-streaked hair and beard was coming out of the building with his hands raised. “I have no weapons, have mercy.”

The adventurers surrounded the man, quaking at the sight of so many people. He just made quick glances at them. “You’re not the orcs that sometimes bring me food. The orcs tease, beat, and threaten me.”

“No, we’re not orcs,” Bodrin said. He lowered his sword.

“Take what you want.”

“What’s made you so afraid?” Hendrel asked.

“How did you get here, and how do you survive?” Saxthor asked.

Tonelia watched Delia’s reaction as she sniffed the man. The dog didn’t bark at him, but she seemed confused and edgy. Perhaps his fear causes her confusion, she thought. Who can tell? At least the man isn’t hostile.

Twit was too seasick from the last days on the water to care what the dog did. He flew up on a tree branch, ate a bug and slept.

The man began to straighten up. “I came from Heggolstockin a long time ago, several years. I think I’ve seen many seasons of change here. I’m not sure. I tried to hike out of the swamp, but halfway in, the water rose and trapped me.”

“Water rose fast then?” Tournak asked.

“Yes,” the man said, turning quickly to face Tournak behind him. “I was floating on a log about to starve, when orcs in a boat found me. They were going to kill me, but their leader stopped them saying their king might have a use for me. I had no chance of escape. They brought me here. I think this was once a farmhouse or maybe a guardhouse, but when the waters rose, I was cut off.”

“They left you here for years?” Bodrin asked.

The man spun again to face Bodrin as though he feared someone sneaking up from behind.

“The orcs abandoned me here and went to report their find to their higher-ups. They come back by, from time to time, leaving me some nasty food and supplies. There’s just enough to keep me alive. I thought I’d never see a human again.”

“What do they keep you alive for?” Tournak asked.

“I don’t know. I just survive here from day to day. You must take me with you.”

“How do you feed yourself if the food runs out?” Tonelia asked.

“I catch the reptilefish sometimes when they wriggle too close to the island in the mud. There’s a deep-water spot close to the island’s far end, and I can sometimes beat the water like something thrashing. They come to attack it and I spear one. Sometimes a bird will land on the island, and I eat him, too.”

“We weren’t sure if those reptilefish were edible or not,” Tournak said. “We’ve never seen them anywhere but in this swamp.”

“I think the Dreaddrac’s king created them somehow. How else would they have a lizard’s head and a fish’s body? I eat them, though, when I have to. They have dark flesh and a muddy taste, but they’re food.”

“Do you know how far it is to the western shore?” Saxthor asked. “Do you know where the River Akkin is?”

“Must be about a day’s sailing to the west or southwest.”

The bearded man followed each of them in turn around the island, apparently afraid they'd leave him. When Tonelia brought the supplies ashore, the exile clapped like a child seeing food again. He wouldn’t leave Tonelia’s side, while she cooked.

“Don’t keep bothering her,” Bodrin said. “We’ll share our food. Stay with Tonelia, Delia.” Delia wagged her tail and panted obediently watching every detail of the food preparation. She moved between the stranger and Tonelia.

At least I’ll be safe with Delia at my side, she thought.

Bodrin shook his head and joined Saxthor and Tournak touring the island.

“What do you think of the man?” Saxthor asked.

“He seems to have a genuine story,” Tournak said. “He looks like he’s been left here quite a while.”

“Yeah, he’s been too long away from ladies, too,” Bodrin said. He smashed a stick hard against his leg, snapping it.

Saxthor looked out across the water. “Something bothers me about him, but I don’t know what it is. Maybe we just need to make him wash and cut that beard.” His face lost its gleam. “We’ll have to take him with us. He’ll tell the orcs everything, when they come with food. Don’t know why they left him here, but he’ll tell them men came over the water.”

“He’ll turn us in for food,” Bodrin said through a slight snarl.

“It wouldn’t be right to leave him here,” Tournak said.

“He gives me the creeps,” Bodrin said. Saxthor and Tournak looked at Bodrin, who looked back at the man beside Tonelia.

They all ate and the half-starved exile ate all leftovers.

“It’s been a long time since I had people food even if it’s prepared from dried stuff.”

Bodrin was disgusted. Fruit bits, stuck in the man’s beard, jiggled as he talked through a mouth of half chewed food. The group packed up.

“We’ll take you with us, but you need to go clean up first,” Saxthor said. He looked at the others, “Well, it’s a small boat.”

The man jumped up, beamed at each of the travelers, then started down to the water to wash.

“Here,” Bodrin said. He handed the man his knife. “You’ll need this for the beard.”

The man looked confused. Bodrin stroked the knife blade beside his face to indicate shaving. The man grinned, took the knife, and ran to the water to wash and shave.

Bodrin watched him, keeping an eye on his knife. After the man cleaned up, he ran into the hut and brought back his few possessions, tied up in a piece of cloth. He waited by the boat for his position.

Passing the man as he was getting in the boat, Bodrin repossessed his knife and returned it to its sheath. The grinning man’s head bobbed up and down as each person boarded the craft. He then got in the bow, taking Delia’s favorite spot.

They poled out into deeper water and started rowing west. The exile stared ahead across the water. The adventurers rowed most of the day and into the evening.

“We must be close to land,” Saxthor said. “I wish we could see it. We’ll have to row on in the dark. Be careful of treetops in the water.”

*

Not long before midnight, they heard noises.

“Stop rowing and be still,” Saxthor said.

“Was that voices?” Tonelia asked.

No one answered. Bodrin put his finger to his lips. Then came telltale rhythmic splashes and dripping like oars rowing. The voyagers stopped their oars, remaining still and quiet.

It’s most likely orcs, Saxthor thought. Our full boat is low in the water. We can’t fight from this little tub. He motioned for Bodrin and Hendrel to row. He tapped his ear indicating quiet, then steered the boat on a more southerly direction.

“The other craft is still with us,” Tournak whispered in Saxthor’s ear.

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