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Chapter 1
"When words fail, swords sing."
-- Sento of Yang
Wentai ordered full sail, wanting to skim the waves and feel the rise and fall of the ship as it coursed over the Sea of Dekatos. They hit a wave just right, and for a moment the bow of the vessel was pointing toward the sky, as if ready to leap into the air. Wentai smiled; he felt that way often. Life on the sea was difficult due to the perils of combat, the strain of hard work, and the unpredictability of wind and rain. Still, in the limitless vault of his mind, any man could experience splendors that were unattainable in life. His body was dedicated to his city but in his mind he could live in undersea palaces and drift among the clouds.
He dragged his thoughts back to reality as the bow of his ship tilted down, riding the other side of the wave. The ship was both a fishing and fighting vessel, one he had designed himself when the city of Char had selected him to captain their next vessel. It had three square sails, one behind the other, each about the height of a man. The hull was long and sleek with five rowers on each side.
Wentai walked down the length of the ship and thanked the rowers for their work, feeling a small joy blossom in his heart as they smiled up at him. Several of the female rowers – often superior to the men since they were naturally able to pace themselves – silently mouthed greetings, or just nodded at him. His crew liked him; the sea was often the scene of violence and warfare, and he had remained loyal to his crew, and they to him, even during the dark times of the Brine War. Famine had gripped Yang and Lau Cing, and blood had been spilled over rich shoals of fish or mussel-clad rocks.
The Sea of Dekatos was surrounded by five cities. Wentai could sail across the sea in ten days, but he was a better sailer than most men, knowing the location of rocks and whirlpools and fast currents. Beyond the five cities lay the Fractured Wastes, a vast and unending desert hostile to all life except serpents and the mysterious statue-builders. Nothing was known of the statue builders except that their territory – marked by stone monuments – grew larger each year. The Fractured Wastes were impassable and unending, with the serpents preventing any travel. The rare adventurer who returned had found nothing except desert.
The five cities had a long and violent history. Thousands of years ago, as the cities developed, they had formed alliances against one another and fought a series of wars. No city had been strong enough to conquer another by itself, so pacts and alliances were a necessity, often being overturned in the midst of battle by secret treaties and agreements. Since the five cities all bordered the sea, naval development dominated military thinking and great fleets fought each other. Fish and kelp from the sea were one of the main sources of food and great naval vessels were needed to protect their fishing fleets from enemy action. Land wars still raged, with chariot armies clashing against legions of foot soldiers. Many men lost their lives, but none of the five cities were conquered.
After centuries of bloodshed and upheaval, Sento suggested that all five cities sign an agreement never to form an alliance, since no city had ever been strong enough to conquer another without an ally. Sento advised that after the five cities signed the treaty, any person attempting to forge an alliance should be killed on the spot for treason against civilization. All five cities signed the document and an uneasy peace had reigned since then, a full forty-one years. Skirmishes still occurred on the sea, since the resources of fish, kelp, and crustacean kept the burgeoning populations fed, but it was an unorganized, unplanned conflict. Cities rarely fought land wars despite the constant clash of their fleets.
Wentai was hit by a spray of warm seawater, but the hot sun made such things a pleasant part of sailing. In minutes they would be sailing through rocky waters near the center of the sea. Whirlpools grew dangerous in shallow areas so he walked to the front of the ship and took the wheel from Placidus. It was connected to a vane on the front of the ship just below the water line. He angled the ship so they would sail between a frothing, swirling whirlpool and some jagged rocks.
The rowers pulled hard. While almost every whirlpool had a tentacled beast at the bottom, the crew's confidence in his navigational skills was absolute, and none of them would consider questioning him. The tentacled creatures, an advanced form of barnacle, nested wherever fish were plentiful. Young barnacles, freshly released from a parent, were mobile but unable to feed. They scuttled away after birth, finding shallow areas or whirlpools, and attached themselves to a rock. There they grew limbs and began to catch fish. The ones at the bottom of whirlpools grew quite large on the steady supply of fish being funneled down to them.
"Wentai," said Placidus. "Ships ahead."
Wentai looked where his sailing companion pointed and saw large wooden vessels, cumbersome and slow, in the distance. From the design they appeared to be from Lau Cing, the mercenary city. Founded by deserters, exiles, shipwrecked sailors, defeated armies and survivors of shattered units, Lau Cing now had a proud reputation of taking anyone in and making a warrior of them. Wentai had no interest, however, in sailing anywhere near their ships; skirmishes on the sea were commonplace, and his vessel might offer a tempting target, especially if food stocks in Lau Cing were running low. He did not know if they would recognize him or not, but Wentai had a reputation on the sea for finding schools of fish.
He turned the wheel to the left and the ship headed toward both the whirlpool and the rocks. His ship was fit for the task. He had designed it with three square sails so each one could be tilted in a different direction. The front sail, under the expert guidance of Placidus, turned the prow to the left. The rear sail turned the tail of the ship to the right, a technique that made their vessel the most maneuverable one on the sea.
They skirted the rocks and pushed dangerously close to the whirlpool. It was large enough to easily swallow them, but Wentai brought his beloved vessel in close. The water of the sea was pure and clean, and a tentacle-beast laired at the bottom, awake and beginning to move its sucker-lined limbs. Wentai glanced back at Placidus, who had also seen it. "Don't worry," Wentai said with a smile. "This one can't reach us." A long orange limb snaked out of the water toward them but the soft, prehensile tip missed their hull by a few paces.
Wentai's ship was caught in the whirlpool and turned ninety degrees to the right as it followed the swirling currents, but with a hard left turn of the wheel his vessel pulled away, escaping the flow and heading off between the rocks. Wentai spun the wheel, weaving among the jagged mineral outcroppings. Behind him, his crew grinned; this was common practice for such fine sailors. The distant wood vessels made no attempt to follow them.
The ship pulled up near a flat outcropping of rock, about thirty paces across, and he found what he was looking for. Wentai knew that the submerged portion of the rocks in this area were lined with tiny mussels, too small for the consumption of men but perfect for the stomachs of fish. Beside his ship was a running shoal of pink fish, thousands of them, all streaming underwater on whatever important mission caused fish to move so quickly. In the distance was a tall rocky island which might house sea-bird eggs, while a closer island was flat and low, perhaps hiding mussels.
Wentai ordered the anchor dropped and when the men looked over the side a cheer went up; even Wentai's mouth watered as he imagined himself frying the delicious, buttery fish, and salting a full barrel of them. He daydreamed for a moment of a life in his new house filled with dried fish, pots of kelp, shelves full of books, and for diversion, chariot races. There was little more a man needed.
The crew threw nets overboard and collected vast numbers of the bright pink fish. Wentai did not know how long the fish would stay and he wanted his deck full of the flopping beauties before they disappeared into deeper waters. He reached out and helped haul in the nets. Minutes later a large ship sailed out from behind the nearby rocky island and headed toward them. He estimated it would intercept them in less than a minute.
"I think," said Placidus, "she is from Yang, the stone city. We are not at war with them today, are we?"
"No," answered Wentai. "They have been staying out of skirmishes lately." Wentai was in a difficult position. Battles could develop as often as acts of kindness and heroism, and while Wentai had no desire to come under fire from the larger, gleaming vessel, he had no desire to abandon his find and run at the sight of another ship. He chose to do nothing, and helped his men haul the fish in more quickly, even while the other ship sailed closer.
The larger vessel came to a stop in front of them, on an angle. The ship was made from pure mahogany and had been oiled and polished to a high luster. Wentai estimated a hundred people on board the Yang hunter.
A man stood on the deck of the great ship and called out to them. "Greetings, and thank you for leading us to this beautiful shoal. The King of Yang requires food for our people. You may move off now and avoid tasting the pikes of our men."
Wentai knew of the fighting techniques of each of the five cities. Unlike the magnificent mercenaries of Lau Cing, the soldiers of Yang were conventional. They had courage, but fought in predictable patterns. The warships of Yang often pulled up alongside other ships and tossed grappling hooks over, drawing the vessels together and securing them with ropes. The long pikes of the soldiers of Yang would then clear the enemy deck, spearing and killing any who did not flee overboard. It was a technique that Wentai's small crew would be incapable of resisting.
"The wise fisherman makes an enemy of no one, friends," called out Wentai, anticipating the clashing sounds of battle. "Let us dip our nets in peace."
"Thank you," called the other man. "The little fishing ships know of the most advantageous spots. Now leave. Our warriors itch for battle. Your ship is no match for our great vessel."
"Would you agree to a duel of champions?" asked Wentai. His home city of Char needed the fish as much as Yang did. With the advent of peace since Sento had written his famous lines, the populations of the five cities had grown immeasurably.
"Very well," called the other man. "On the island. The winner's ship stays to fish from this spot."
Wentai felt a hand on his arm and was firmly turned around by Placidus, a man skilled in combat and strong from years of rowing. "Let me fight, Wentai. You have trained me yourself. Let me give something back by handling their champion for you."
Wentai smiled and clasped the man's sinewy forearm. "That I cannot do. I will not shirk my duty, but thank you." Wentai loosened his sword in his scabbard and moved to the side of the ship. He climbed over the railing and dropped lightly into the water. It was a short swim to the island.
He clambered up onto the rocky island. It was a flat porous surface, complete with blow holes that spewed sea spray when the waves hit hard. The enemy's champion descended a rope ladder that dangled from the deck of the larger vessel. The champion was quite large. A wide blue cloak covered his body, hiding all other details.
When the challenger stepped down into the chest-deep water and turned, Wentai saw that it was a woman. The female champion strode forward through the water and walked up onto dry land. Burnished copper armor covered breasts and hips but nothing else. Her blue cloak fluttered behind her in the warm sea breeze. She had a muscular body, and her sharp features instantly identified her as a citizen of Lau Cing, the mercenary city. She had a sword on her left hip and a copper bow over her shoulder. Wentai thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, strong and confident and long-limbed.
While Wentai hesitated the mercenary woman thrust back her blue cloak, unlimbered her copper bow and released an arrow. He cursed his laxness; metallic bows were powerful weapons, as was this brawny female. Pure copper had no spring, but the artisans of Yang tempered the hot metal in brine, giving it a tensile strength.
Wentai dodged the hurtling wood shaft but went down on one knee in the process. With a grunt he straightened up, in time to immediately dodge a second arrow. They were still about thirty paces away from each other, and she was leisurely shooting at him. The muscles in her arm bulged as she held the bowstring to her cheek before launching the next arrow.
He had to so something as the muscular female had a full quiver of arrows on her right hip, opposite her sword. With few options other than to retreat back to his ship, Wentai drew his blade and charged, his sword held high and straight as he ran. She fired more quickly – with the same deadly accuracy – but he managed to knock the arrows out of the air. His years of training with his blade had saved his life, justifying the devotion to his sword that had taken so much of his time over the past decade. Just before he reached her, she dropped her copper bow and stepped to the side, his sword slicing down on air.
The Lau Cing mercenary drew her blade in a fluid motion and slashed. Wentai was able to block it but his hand throbbed from the blow. She cut at his eyes and forced him to weave a tight defense. They were evenly matched yet with different styles. Wentai deflected with circular motions of his sword while she blocked his strikes with the base of her blade, where her leverage was strongest. He tested her defenses with probing attacks while she sought to use killing strokes.
They fought, circling each other like beasts, and while he parried her blade, her other fist snaked out and struck him in the eye. The woman was good, but Wentai was able to drag the edge of his blade across her ribs. She turned her body away – minimizing the penetration of his blade – but left her sword hand exposed. He brought the blunt edge of his weapon down on her fingers, crushing them, knocking the blade from her hand. He had deliberately avoided cutting her hand off.
With both her bow and her sword on the rocky surface, she turned and fled back to her ship, turning back only once to give him an indecipherable look. Wentai slipped her blade in his belt and slung her bow over his shoulder. While swimming back to his own vessel he noticed that all the pink fish had gone.
Placidus hauled him aboard while the captain of the mahogany vessel spoke up. "Leave now, before my men give you the honor of dying for your city."
Wentai, still breathing heavy, shouted back. "We beat your champion!"
The man from the other ship paused. "True. We will not start shooting until you raise anchor."
Wentai ordered his men to do nothing, even though he knew they were in danger. He pulled out his navigation charts from his wood chest and hurriedly studied them. After memorizing a few details, he ordered their anchor drawn up and the rowers to bend to their tasks.
The black hulled ship was blocking their path, but Wentai's ship was a maneuverable one. He turned the wheel hard to veer around. Several grappling hooks were thrown across to dig their spiked tips into the hull of his ship, but Wentai's men quickly pulled them loose or cut them free. Pikemen lined the edge of the mahogany ship, many of the weapons with curved spikes on their tips, but Wentai's vessel stayed just out of reach. With the shoal of pink fish gone, the larger ship was after Wentai's catch.
The copper-clad woman he had fought with appeared on the deck of the enemy ship and gave him a shy wave, a gesture he returned.
His rowers needed no encouragement to pull as if their lives depended on it. They perspired profusely, pulling hard, while Wentai worked the wheel. He knew this area, and with the navigation charts fresh in his mind, he sailed between the rocks. He had to call out orders to the mast men to get them to turn the sails just right, but with their help and his wheel work his ship skirted between the jagged fingers of rock. The enemy ship pursued, following Wentai's course exactly, and with the gigantic sail they raised were able to close the gap between them.
Some arrows flashed past and narrowly missed his ship, a few flicking by over his head. Wentai turned his ship to move between a whirlpool and several tall, serrated rocks. He turned hard right after passing through and looked back to see the pursuing ship gaining on him. Wentai sailed toward a second, larger whirlpool and skimmed along the left edge. The waters sucked at his ship, accelerating him and turning his vessel to the right. He let his ship twist ninety degrees then forced it into a hard left turn and called out for sail support. Like a stone from a slingshot, his small ship broke away from the swirling waters. The black ship attempted the exact same maneuver, but by now the tentacle beast at the bottom of the whirlpool had woken and extended its limbs. One sucker-lined arm swept the top of the enemy ship, tearing the sail down. The mahogany ship was able to extricate itself, but with their sail gone, Wentai's ship easily escaped.
Five days later he brought his vessel into the harbor of Char – city of chariots.