Five Kingdoms: Book 05 - Fierce Loyalty Page 7

  “You’re going to be okay,” he told himself out loud. It was a silly sentiment, he knew, but during his search for the ladder he had felt reasonably sure that he would die in the bilge. His next task was to stand up. Even though he couldn’t see, he still felt like the ship was spinning in circles around him. He held tightly to the ladder with his good hand and pulled himself slowly to his feet. His muscles were screaming for relief and the thought of closing his eyes was so tempting he had to shake his head to fight it off. Unfortunately, shaking his head sent sharp stabbing pain through his neck and shoulder.

  “Use it,” he told himself. “Use the pain to keep yourself focused.”

  He slowly raised one foot, groaning with the effort. It was natural to raise his left leg since his right arm was pulling upward, but his ribs couldn’t take the pressure. Instead, he lifted his right leg and, after finding the lowest rung, pulled himself up. It was painful and difficult, but he knew he couldn’t stop. If he did, he would end up falling again and possibly hurting himself much worse. He climbed, the effort so demanding he couldn’t remember ever working so hard. Sweat poured off of him, dizziness threatened to make him sick again, but through it all he kept moving. Finally, his hand felt the heavy trapdoor above him. He gnashed his teeth as he took one more step up the ladder and then heaved with his right arm.

  The trap door opened slowly. It took all of Mansel’s strength just to push it up enough to stick his arm out. The dim light of the ’tween decks was the most welcome sight Mansel could remember, but pushing his way out of the trap door proved too difficult in his weakened state. He hung in the hunched over position with one arm out of the trap door for several minutes until finally another sailor saw him.

  “Hold on, mate,” the sailor shouted. “Hey, you louts, get over here and help me. This man’s trapped in the bilge shaft.”

  A moment later the heavy trap door was thrown open and rough hands pulled Mansel up out of the shaft. He lay curled on the floor, panting for several minutes. The sailors around him were all murmuring, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. Finally, the sailor who’d seen him bent over and spoke quietly. “Hey mate, it wasn’t Slice who threw you down there was it?”

  Mansel nodded.

  Without another word the other sailors all drifted away. They were afraid of Slice and his gang, Mansel knew that, but he was aghast that they would simply leave him on the floor. Mansel struggled back up onto his knees and began crawling toward the stairs that led up to the main deck. His tool satchel had been pulled off of him, and was now near the foot of the stairs, along with the extra wood he needed to repair Zollin’s furniture.

  It took all his strength to crawl up the stairs, but he forced himself to keep moving. Just at the top, two sailors met him.

  “Oh, good god man, what happened to you?” one of the said.

  Mansel didn’t answer, he was too busy clenching his teeth to keep from crying out in pain.

  “He smells worse than the privy,” the sailor said to his companion. “Are you the carpenter’s helper?”

  Mansel nodded this time.

  “Run and tell the lieutenant,” the sailor said. “Looks like he fell down into the bilge. I’ll get started cleaning him up.”

  One sailor hurried off and the other called for a bucket of water. Seawater was used to clean the decks regularly, and soon Mansel was doused with a bucket of cold saltwater. He gasped.

  “Well, he ain’t dead, is he?” said another sailor.

  “What is going on here?” Zollin shouted.

  Zollin had gotten worried when Mansel hadn’t returned. He had gone to the lieutenant to find out what had happened, and the first officer had sent the two sailors in search of Mansel. Now, Zollin and the lieutenant were walking quickly across the main deck to find the young warrior.

  “Please, sir,” the lieutenant said coldly. “Let me deal with my men.”

  “But that man’s obviously hurt,” Zollin said. “I’m a healer,” he added quickly. “Let me help him.”

  “We’ve a ship’s surgeon on board. I assure you he’ll get the best care possible.”

  Zollin sent a suggestion magically toward the young officer, who looked puzzled for a moment and then said, “Actually, the sick bay is rather full. I wonder if you might help him?”

  Zollin nodded, ignoring the strange looks the other sailors gave their lieutenant. “Certainly. Let’s get those clothes off of him. We’ll get him cleaned up and then he can rest in my cabin.”

  “You heard him,” said the lieutenant in a sharp tone to his men. “Cut those clothes off and toss them overboard. They smell like the bilge.

  Mansel moaned as the sailors went to work on him. Rags were brought and seawater was poured over his head. They used knives to cut away his clothes. His boots were pulled off and cleaned. Then a stretcher was brought out, just a strip of canvas sewn around two long poles. They gently laid Mansel on the stretcher and carried him down to Zollin’s cabin.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” the lieutenant asked Zollin. “It’s highly irregular. I’m not sure the captain would allow it.”

  “Just let me see what I can do for him. If the captain objects, send him to me. Now, all of you, get out. Eustice and I will see to his needs.”

  “Very well,” said the lieutenant. “I’ll be on the command deck if you need anything.”

  “Thank you, but we’ll be find,” Zollin said, shooing everyone out of his cabin.

  Once he had the door shut, he turned to Eustice.

  “Make sure no one comes in until I’m finished.”

  The mute servant nodded and Zollin sat down beside his friend. He let his magic flow into Mansel’s body. Mansel had lost consciousness on deck, so Zollin first let his magic sweep through the entire body. Three ribs were broken and two others were cracked. There was some minor internal bleeding, and Mansel’s collarbone was broken. Zollin’s first job was to mend the bones. It was a simple process now that he was accustomed to doing it. It took longer to relax the muscles that were in spasm and to remove the buildup of fluids that was causing the bruising. Zollin decided he couldn’t heal the bruising completely—if he did, the crew would discover his powers. Zollin wasn’t ashamed of being a wizard, or afraid of the crew for that matter, but he didn’t want to send the sailors into a panic of fear. Rumors of the sea monster attack had included his magic, and there was no need to deal with superstitious sailors if he could avoid it.

  The internal bleeding keep Zollin busy the longest. He had to delve deep into the tissues around Mansel’s ribs to find exactly what was wrong. Once he isolated the bleeding, however, he was able to repair the damage. He could feel the hot wind of his magic coursing through the containment field he had surrounded it with. Soon, everything about Mansel seemed to be okay.

  “I’m done,” he said, sagging back against the opposite bunk.

  Eustice had a small goblet of wine ready and handed it to Zollin.

  “Thanks,” he said, then took a long drink. “He’s going to be fine. I couldn’t heal him completely without giving away—”

  Wham! Wham! Wham!

  “This is the captain,” came an angry voice. “I’m coming in.”

  Eustice started to hold the door closed but Zollin waved him off. The captain stepped boldly into the small cabin. The lieutenant waited outside with two other sailors.

  “Has he said anything?” the captain asked.

  “No, he’s resting,” Zollin said. “I’ve inspected his injuries. There’s nothing serious about his wounds. Just some minor cuts and bruises, but he was covered in filth. I’d like to watch him and make sure he doesn’t get sick.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” the captain said. “I won’t let the crew be a burden to our passengers.”

  “It’s no trouble,” Zollin said.

  “No, it won’t be. Thank you for your help…”

  “Zollin, my name is Zollin Quinnson.”

  “Very well, Zollin,” the captain sa
id. “Alright, get him up,” he said to the sailors out in the passageway.

  Zollin stood back and watched as two men in threadbare clothes came into the room. One had a livid scar across his cheek and shot Zollin a baleful glance before grabbing Mansel roughly by the arms. They pulled him off the bunk and he slowly came to.

  “What’s going on?” he mumbled.

  “You’re in for it now,” said the man with the scar. “The captain don’t abide fighting on board his ship.”

  “Stow that talk, Ulber, and get him down to the surgeon.”

  “Captain, may I have a word with you?” Zollin asked.

  “Of course,” he said, waving his men away.

  “I get the impression that you aren’t happy with that sailor.”

  “Yes,” the captain said, with a trying look on his face as if he were indulging an inquisitive child.

  “Is there a reason? The man was obviously accosted by someone.”

  “No, I’m afraid that’s not how he came to his injuries. He’s a new member of the crew. I’ll see to it that he knows his business from now on. And I’ll get our carpenter up here to repair this furniture.”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Are you saying he wasn’t attacked?”

  “Master Quinnson, it isn’t my practice to share details of the crew with passengers, but if you must know, your patient attacked one of the other sailors with a mallet. There was a scuffle and your patient fell down the bilge shaft. It was an unfortunate break in shipboard discipline and I shall see that it is corrected immediately. Good day.”

  Zollin was so surprised that the captain was out of the cabin before Zollin realized it. He hurried after the man.

  “Captain, I don’t think you have the whole story,” Zollin said, hurrying up behind the officer.

  “No, I’m sure I don’t. But I will very soon. Please don’t continue to worry about that sailor. He’s my responsibility, and I’ll see to it that he’s dealt with in a fashion that befits the dignity of this ship.”

  “I’d like to go with you if you’re going to question him,” Zollin said.

  “Absolutely not. Now excuse me,” the captain said gruffly.

  Zollin started to push a magical suggestion toward the man when a voice spoke up from behind him.

  “Let the captain deal with his men as he see’s fit,” said the icy voice. “And be so kind as to remove yourself from the passageway.”

  Zollin turned and found the woman he’d seen the day they’d set sail. She was tall and fine featured, but her face was pinched in a look of complete disdain. Her narrow nose was held high and there were two brutish looking armed men behind her.

  “Excuse me?” Zollin said.

  “Stand aside, if you please,” the woman said angrily. “It seems you are always in the passageway. I wish to go on deck.”

  Zollin glanced back toward the captain, but he had already ascended the stairs to the main deck. Zollin turned back to Eustice, who was waiting in the doorway to their cabin.

  “Come on, Eustice, this isn’t over.”

  They hurried out of the passageway and came out on deck. The sky was dark with heavy, gray clouds hanging low overhead. In the rigging the sailors were busy taking in the sails. The captain and his lieutenant were walking quickly back up to the command deck.

  “Ahem!” came the woman’s voice from below them. “Once again you are blocking the way.”

  Zollin realized he was standing at the top of the stairwell. He took Eustice by the arm and they stepped aside. The woman walked briskly past and went straight to the command deck, followed by her bodyguards and then Zollin.

  The woman ascended the stairs and then went immediately to the ship rail. Zollin watched her go and then turned to the captain.

  “Sir, I must protest—”

  “No, sir, you must not,” said the captain angrily. “There is a storm coming, in case you hadn’t noticed. We have perhaps half an hour before we’re in the thick of it. I suggest you go back to your cabin, make sure your belongings are stowed away safely, and latch the shutters on your porthole.”

  “I’m not going to stand aside—” Zollin started, but once again he was cut off.

  “You shall stand aside,” shouted the captain angrily. “You will not interfere with this ship in any way. Nor shall you continue to plague me with your questions. Now go below, or I’ll have you locked in chains and taken below. Is that clear?”

  Zollin felt his magic raging and he wanted more than anything to set it loose on the captain, but he knew better than to push his luck. He could fight the captain and the sailors on board the ship, but he couldn’t sail the vessel in calm waters, much less through a storm.

  As he turned to leave the deck he wondered exactly what kind of mess Mansel had gotten himself into this time.

  Chapter 7

  Rain began to fall before Zollin got back down to the passenger deck. He turned to look at the woman on the command deck, expecting to see her hurrying after him, but she was still by the ship rail. Her hair was expertly combed and held in place by expensive ivory combs. She wore a beautiful silk dress and dainty shoes that Zollin had only seen on the wealthiest nobles in Orrock, yet she stood with her face pointing up toward the sky, a look of rapture on her face.

  “What the hell is she doing?” Zollin asked.

  Eustice merely shrugged his shoulders and hurried down the stairs to the passenger deck. The raindrops were fat and cold. Zollin looked up and saw that all the sails had been taken in except the smaller sails at the top of the masts. The sailors were hurrying down from the rigging as the lieutenant began barking out orders. Zollin was getting soaked, but he continued to watch the activity on the ship. Any loose materials were quickly carried down to the ’tween decks areas, and trapdoors were being closed and latched.

  A sailor hurried up to where Zollin stood at the top of the stairs and shouted to him. “Best go below sir, this looks to be a bad ’un,” the sailor cried.

  Zollin glanced back up at the command deck and saw the woman still at the rail. He made a quick decision then and stepped away from the stairs. “No, I want to stay out here.”

  “It’s not safe, sir.”

  “I’ll chance it,” Zollin said, heading back toward the command deck.

  The rain was falling in heavy sheets now and the wind was starting to pick up. Zollin was cold, and it was difficult to climb the stairs to the command deck as the ship started to lurch in the heavy waves.

  The captain shot Zollin a dirty look, but Zollin sent peaceful thoughts toward the officer with his magic as he circled around the helm and went to the ship rail not far from the woman. He thought she was arrogant and rude, but she was also very attractive. As much as he didn’t want to be, he found himself hoping that she might be attracted to him. He didn’t know what to think of that, but the storm soon made it too rough on the ship to think about anything other than survival.

  Zollin held onto the rail with a tight grip and did his best to keep his balance as the ship rose and fell on the waves. It was only a few more minutes before the wind began to howl, blowing the rain so that it fell at such an odd angle that Zollin thought it was falling sideways. He was beginning to wonder what crazy thought had prompted him to stay out of his cabin when he heard the woman laughing.

  It was hard to see in the rain, but Zollin held his hands up to block the rain and he could see the woman gripping the rail with one hand and laughing like a child. He’d seen similar looks from children riding a horse for the first time. It was as if she was experiencing something thrilling and wonderful, but Zollin was just cold, wet, and frightened. The sea had turned so dark it was almost black, and the water on the crests of the waves was white, highlighting the towering walls of water. The ship rose and fell so steeply that it was hard for Zollin to keep from falling over.

  Like the woman, the captain and the lieutenant were standing easily, with just one hand each on the post in front of the helmsmen’s large wooden ship’s wheel. T
hey seemed unfazed by the wind and rain whipping into their faces. The woman’s two guards were struggling as much as Zollin was. They quickly had both hands on the railing, and one even knelt down on the deck to escape the worst of the raging wind.

  Zollin’s magic was churning inside him. Strong emotions seemed to stoke the magical fires that burned in him. He had been angry before, but now he was scared. The ship, which had seemed massive at first, now seemed tiny and weak before the anger of the sea. Zollin looked east for the coast, but he could just barely make out the Walheta Mountains. He thought briefly about the fact that he was leaving Yelsia for the first time in his life. The thought was both frightening and exciting, but the storm made it seem more monumental somehow.

  Soon the waves towered over the ship and more often than not crashed onto the main deck. Zollin was fascinated to watch the seawater slosh across the deck and drain out of the scuppers along the ship railing. Luckily the waves normally broke over the front of the ship, and since the command deck was at the rear of the vessel, Zollin only had to worry about simply staying on his feet and not being rocked overboard.

  The worst of the storm only lasted a few minutes, but it was a full hour before the seas calmed enough that the captain ordered his men to open up the hatches. Zollin was soaked and very cold. He hurried down to his cabin and stripped out of his wet clothes.

  “That was a complete waste of time,” he said, his teeth chattering.

  Eustice wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and Zollin knelt down and kindled a small flame in midair, directly in front of him. He rubbed the blanket over his head to help dry his hair and then dressed in dry clothes. He could have used magic to dry his wet clothes, but then he might have to explain how the clothes got dry so quickly.

  “I think that woman is insane,” Zollin went on. “At least the storm is giving Mansel some time to figure things out. I hate that something happened to him. I can’t imagine anyone giving him that much trouble. They must have ambushed him or something.”