II
Karl woke Gwaynn very early the next morning. The boy was confused for a moment, and then the memories of the day before struck him like a hammer blow.
‘Gwynn is dead,’ he thought listlessly. Not that he had ever truly forgotten the fact. All through the night, dreams haunted and reminded him of the previous day’s horror. Through most of the night visions Gwynn was being raped. She implored and begged Gwaynn to save her, but he did not. He just watched, remaining quiet to save himself. He made no move to help her even when she turned to him, her intestines hanging from her naked midsection, and pleaded.
‘Keep the dogs away. Please, keep the dogs away.”
But in his dreams he had done nothing, nothing at all.
“Karl,” Gwaynn said, softly rubbing his forehead, trying his best to dispel the horrible visions running through his mind.
“Come lad,” the big man said laying a hand on Gwaynn’s shoulder. “The mornings will be the worst for a while now,” he added and set clothes on the foot of the bed.
Gwaynn sat up and looked about the room, but thankfully Karla was gone. He was surprised he had slept at all.
“Last night was no picnic,” the boy answered sitting up and dressing, wincing from his sunburn as he pulled on a shirt.
Karl chuckled despite the emotional pain. “No, no picnic,” he replied as Karla moved into the room. Gwaynn made a move to cover up, but then shrugged and stood, pulling his pants on. Karla appeared not to notice his nudity.
“I’ve packed you two some food, a lot of food ‘cause I know how much Karl eats,” she said as Gwaynn added a leather vest. He was pulling on some old worn boots when she knelt before him. He stopped and looked at her, smiling ruefully.
Karla smiled back, tears in her eyes. “Come back to us soon, my King.”
Gwaynn could not speak, so he just nodded, shifted his feet inside the boots. They were big but fit reasonably well. He stood and tried not to look at Karla, but found that he could not help himself.
“Thank you,” he said choking up slightly, but he somehow maintained control and she seemed to sense that he wanted to keep his composure.
“You need to get moving,” she said to help cover his emotions. “The Zani will soon spread all throughout the land, and it will be easier to come here by sea. We may not have much time.”
“She’s right,” Karl said and they moved one after another down the hall and then the stairs. They paused at the front door for only a moment and then without saying good-bye stepped out into the cool morning air. The sky to the east was a deep purple-black, the sun not yet above the horizon. One of the soldiers from the night before ran to meet them.
“Sir,” the man said to Karl. “The Zani are coming.”
Karl cursed and stopped walking. “By sea?”
The soldier shook his head and Karl started walking again. “No, by land. About fifty foot soldiers.”
“How long?” Gwaynn asked, nearly jogging to keep up with Karl’s long strides, but he noticed that the soldier was moving his legs rapidly also, which made him feel better.
“About an hour away, Sire,” the soldier added and bowed his head slightly. Karl let the lapse go. They had time, and habits that spanned generations were hard to break. They continued to the docks in silence, all of them moving very rapidly. The soldier led them to a trireme that was bustling with activity, preparing to caste off. There was a man with long black hair waiting for them.
“Sire,” he said as they approached, then bowed low from the waist. “The Londalay is at your service.”
Karl said nothing.
Gwaynn bowed his head slightly. “I thank you Captain. Please inform your crew that they must address me as a regular traveler. For whatever reason, the Zani have targeted the royal family. If you continue to treat me as royalty it will be noticed and put everyone in danger.”
Captain Tul stared at the boy for a moment and then smiled. “You, and your party may board, young Master.”
Gwaynn bowed and moved passed the Captain. Karl turned to the soldier before following. “Gather what men you can and head for Koshka, it’s a small southern village along the Scar mountain range. If Afton Sath lives he will make for the town. Stay hidden; stay safe. Let the people know our King still lives. Let the people know to stay quiet. He will return when he can, but for now we must go into hiding.”
“Luck,” the soldier said with a salute.
“Luck,” Karl answered then turned and followed his King up the gangway and onto the ship that hopefully would take them to freedom.
The Londalay was an average sized trireme as the ships go, but you could not convince Gwaynn of that fact. It was about a hundred and forty feet long, had four decks, including two decks devoted only to oarsmen of which there were about a hundred, all of them free men paid from the profits of the trading ship. The oarsmen occupied the middle two decks with the lower hold for the trade goods. The upper deck was used as quarters, and to move additional cargo if it was needed. On this trip there would be no trade goods.
In addition to the oarsman, there was one large mast placed directly in the center of the deck, it supported a single large rectangular sail. Gwaynn and Karl waited near the mast until Captain Tul boarded and motioned for them to join him. They moved toward the back of ship where an awning was set up near the tiller to keep them out of the sun during their voyage.
The Captain gave an order, which was barked out by one of his lieutenants, and the oars from the lower deck were dropped down in the water. A steady beat boomed from a drum below and they slowly began to get underway. Gwaynn could not help himself and stood, then moved to the side of the ship. He immediately noticed that only one level of oars was working at the moment, the lower deck. Gwaynn concentration was such that he failed to hear Captain Tul come up beside him.
“Only half the oarsmen are working,” Gwaynn commented.
“Yes,” the Captain answered. “It is how most merchant ships operate. Half on, half off, for rest. It would appear strange if we bolted out of the harbor with all oarsmen pulling.”
They stood silently for a time until the ship reached the middle of the harbor, then the Captain turned.
“Full sail,” he said and his order was repeated. The sail was quickly hoisted, catching the first rays of the rising sun. The sail immediately billowed out, catching the wind. Their speed increased dramatically. Gwaynn turned to look at the Captain.
“No sense in dallying about the harbor, however,” he said with a smile, but Gwaynn did not smile back as he continued to watch the activities of the ship closely. All went smoothly, but as they cleared the harbor three additional triremes were spotted coming up from the northeast. The Captain moved to the far side of the ship to get a closer look. Karl and Gwaynn joined him.
“Merchants?” Karl asked, but the Captain shook his head.
“No, too large and they are coming with all oarsmen, maybe two hundred oars in the water,” the Captain answered. “And from their position, I would say they began their journey sometime last night.”
Gwaynn and Karl exchanged a look. “Should we go to all oarsmen?” one of the lieutenants asked from behind the Captain.
“No, not yet. As I was just telling our young Master here, it would look out of place with all of our oarsmen going. They have no idea who we are, so let’s appear to be the innocent merchant. We should excel at it.”
And so they continued at their current pace, trying to hurry but also trying to appear as if they were in no hurry. The three approaching triremes were just over a mile away as the Londalay cleared the harbor and headed southwest toward the Toranado. Gwaynn, Karl and the Captain moved to the stern and kept a close watch on the three ships.
“Perhaps they are just heading for the harbor,” Gwaynn said softly.
“Perhaps,” the Captain answered. “We shall know very soon.” It took only about ten minutes for the triremes to reach the mouth of the harbor, and two indeed turned and entered, but the third kept coming on very fast, still pulling all oars. They were still distant, but gaining steadily.
“All oars,” the Captain said with a look of concern, and his order was immediately shouted and obeyed. The additional oarsmen were apparently ready and waiting for just such an order. The speed of the ship increased almost immediately, and it took nearly twenty minutes or so before Gwaynn could tell that the trireme behind was still gaining on them. Captain Tul, however, did not seem too concerned.
He smiled down at Gwaynn. “They’ve been pulling all oars for quite a time now. It will be tough for them to continue the pace.”
Gwaynn nodded, and felt Karl put a hand on his shoulder. Together they watched as the chasing trireme slowly gained on them. It was only a quarter of a mile away when its speed began to slack, after that the distance between the ships seemed to hold steady. Gwaynn turned and moved to the awning where the Captain was sitting with two of his lieutenants. The Captain looked up as Gwaynn came into view.
“Their speed has fallen off?” Captain Tul asked.
Gwaynn nodded. “How long can we hold this speed with all oars?”
The Captain smiled at the boy’s astute mind. “Several more hours at least, but our pursuer will have to keep up their speed also. Come sit and relax, I think we will win this race,” he said.
A lieutenant stood and offered his spot to Gwaynn, who hesitated, then moved and sat next to the Captain.
“Why?” Gwaynn asked. “They have more oarsmen.”
The Captain nodded. “Yes, but their ship is a war ship. It is much larger and heavier, built for ramming. We were built light for speed and we are carrying no cargo. They will falter,” he added confidently. But after nearly three hours the ship chasing did not falter, and when the sky suddenly grew very dark and the seas grew heavy the pursuers actually began to gain once more. The wind was blowing hard from land, filling the sail and making it more difficult to control the ship and keep it on course. On the Inland Sea, triremes normally move to land and anchor during storms. The ungainly ships were not built to handle large swells. But at the moment, the Captain did not feel that this was possible.
“They are gaining,” Gwaynn informed him. “Larger, heavier ships move through rough seas better I assume.”
The Captain grunted.
“Do we know who they are?” Karl asked his eyes weak over long distances. Gwaynn frowned at him.
“Very definitely Zani,” he answered. The large Zani flag was clearly visible to him even though it was flying from the stern of the following ship. He could also see several men standing on the bow of the ship watching him watching them.
“Captain,” said a lieutenant. “We should make for land. This storm looks to be a very bad one.”
The Captain studied the sky and indeed it looked none to good. The clouds blowing off the land to the south were dark gray and billowing, but farther to the south, near the horizon they looked almost black. Karl and Gwaynn stood silently by waiting for the Captain’s decision. The swells now were nearly ten feet high, making the boat pitch and roll alarmingly, especially to the newcomers. Both Gwaynn and Karl knew that to make for land was a death sentence for each of them. Still neither said a word.
The Captain noticed their silence, especially the boy’s, and was much impressed. The lad was smart, there was no denying that, and would know just what landing the ship would mean for him. His silence spoke volumes for both his courage and character.
“Lieutenant Hobbs hard to port. Take us north, dead with the wind,” he finally said, and to his credit Hobbs relayed the order without hesitation. In the swells the ship turned slowly, allowing the trireme behind to gain on them quickly, but then the wind finally filled the sail of the Londalay and they streaked off toward the north. Their pursuer seemed to hesitate then they also began to turn toward the north, but then the rains came hard and steady and blotted them from sight.
Lightning filled the sky and the thunder rolled over the waves far easier than the Londalay, but the crew kept the ship heading due north, as wave after wave crashed into the bow.
“Hobbs, see to the boy,” the Captain yelled through the noise of the storm. Hobbs nodded as the Captain gave orders to trim the sail, before it drove them sideways into the teeth of the swells. The ship would rely on the oarsman, already tired from the chase, to keep them on course.
Hobbs came over and showed both Gwaynn and Karl how to run a rope, which looped around their waist. It would keep them from being washed overboard by the high seas. It was a measure of safety but it also meant that if the ship went down they would be pulled down with it. All through the morning and well into the afternoon they fought the storm. The ship weathered it extremely well, but the oarsmen were very near exhaustion and the Captain knew that if they were to survive, the storm must begin to abate soon.
“Captain!” Karl yelled holding stubbornly onto Gwaynn’s shirt as they both fought to keep their feet on the pitching vessel. “We can’t take much more. Where are we headed?”
The Captain smiled. “The Temple Islands, but if we make land it will be in the sunshine. The Islands are still at least a day away on calm seas.”
Karl’s eyes grew big. “Can you swim?” He asked Gwaynn, who looked up at his big friend but said nothing.
The crew fought the storm for nearly two more hours before the first of the oarsmen collapsed from exhaustion. The ship grew sluggish as more men fell, then began to founder as the remaining men lost their battle with the sea. Waves turned the ship and crashed into it seemingly from every side. Sailors, those with enough strength left, fought the rolling of the ship and clamored to the top deck. The Captain was near the stern when a large wave hit them, spraying them all with a wall of water, when it passed the Captain was gone.
“Remove the rope Karl,” Gwaynn yelled into the wind. Karl, though he stood right next to Gwaynn did not hear, so he yelled once more, then once again until the big man understood. They untangled themselves just as the ship was hit by a mighty roller. It struck them and the ship listed nearly thirty degrees. Karl gripped the rail with one arm and Gwaynn with the other, neither believing the ship could right itself, but for a moment it did, then the next wave hit and they were both washed overboard and into the sea.
Gwaynn went completely under and panicked. He kicked strongly, fighting for several seconds but still did not reach the surface. This is the end, he thought, strangely confident that he was right, then his head broke free of the waves and he gulped in precious oxygen. A wave caught him and he rode it high into the air. The Londalay was nearly a hundred yards away already. He fought the wave and frantically looked about for Karl. At first he could not see him, but then the big man popped to the surface only a few feet away. Gwaynn swam to him. They reached each other and turned just as another wave struck the Londalay. This time it rolled, snapping dozens of oars. The sound of the groaning hull could be clearly heard over the noise of the storm. They saw several men fall into the sea as the ship finally flipped completely over. Seconds later another wave hit the ship hard and when it passed, the Londalay was gone.
The two rode the waves together for a few moments looking for other survivors, but they could not see any. The rain continued to pour down on them, limiting their visibility, so they could not be sure whether or not any other sailors were struggling to survive.
“Take off your clothes,” Karl yelled, knowing that the heavy wool would drag them down eventually. Gwaynn nodded and did what he was told, though he was reluctant to give up the garments he had just so recently acquired. His head bobbed below the surface several times while he was trying to slip out of his pants, but soon enough he managed to shed himself of everything and once again he was completely naked. Karl had drifted a few yards away and Gwaynn could tell that he was still struggling with his clothes. Gwaynn swam toward his friend, but the sea was teasing them, keeping them apart; playing with them as a boy might play with ants. Gwaynn eventually came close enough for Karl to reach out and grab, but naked now, Gwaynn’s arm slipped from his grip, so he had to try once again. They finally got close enough to clutch at each other, both impeding the other’s ability to swim, but each happy to be close never the less.
Gwaynn fought to keep is head above water, amazed at the size of the waves that lifted them up and then let them down. On and on went the endless cycle of rising and falling. It was on the crest that Gwaynn spotted debris floating near the base of the wave and pointed it out silently to Karl. The big man nodded and smiled.
“Grab a hold,” Karl yelled and turned his back on Gwaynn, who put his arms around the man’s neck and held on tightly, but still used his legs to help keep them both above water. Karl waited until they crested once more, spotted the debris field again and immediately began to swim strongly in that direction. It took them nearly a half an hour to get close enough to actually see what was floating on the water. There were several oars and other bits of wood that would do them no good, but there was also a large section of planking and Karl slowly made his way closer until they reached it.
Karl, breathing hard from his exertions, half climbed onto the planking, which measured nearly six feet square, and immediately dropped his head down and closed his eyes. Gwaynn climbed from Karl’s back and scrambled onto the makeshift raft next to him. It felt good not to have to tread water for a bit, though both did have to fight to stay on the planking as the sea continued to try to dump them off every few minutes. Silently they rode the waves, up and down, up and down, and the rain continued and the lightning crashed until the afternoon turned to night.
They fought to survive together and the storm waned so slowly that neither noticed when it finally stopped nor sometime later when the seas finally grew calm once more. They both slept, though very fitfully, each amazed when the sun moved above the horizon announcing the fact that morning had come and they were still both alive.
Karl woke first, thirsty and looked about the calm seas. He held out the hope of spotting other survivors, but deep inside he knew he would find none, and he didn’t. He turned to check on Gwaynn and found the boy awake and looking across the sea.
“Se…” Karl tried to say and then swallowed. Gwaynn looked toward him. “See…see anyone?” He finally managed knowing the boy’s eyes were far better than his own.
Gwaynn shook his head, also very thirsty. He wished he had thought to drink more of the rain that was coming down so plentifully last night. He felt like crying, but didn’t, and in fact, he knew he never would again, not that he was going to survive very long out here. Even if they didn’t drowned they would surely die of thirst before they reached land, if they ever reached land.
“I have to survive,” Gwaynn said softly.
“You will lad,” Karl said, mistaking the boy’s statement for fear. “You will. Come,” he added checking the sun. “We need to start moving if we can..moving north. Hopefully we’ll stumble across the Islands.” Together they worked themselves around to the other side of the makeshift raft, and without a word began to swim.
They both kicked for nearly an hour before Gwaynn began to seriously tire. Karl grabbed him and hoisted him up higher on the planks.
“Rest a bit lad. We’ve all day to swim,” he said, a smile in his voice, though he did not have enough strength to put one on his face. Gwaynn said nothing, just closed his eyes and concentrated on the movement of the raft in the water. Karl continued to kick, but he could not be sure of his exact direction, and being low in the water as they were their line of sight was very limited. Swimming, however, gave him something to do other than thinking of their impending deaths. At the moment Karl had strength to spare.
Gwaynn sprawled on the raft for several hours before Karl noticed how red his back was becoming, and cursed softly to himself. After spending most of the previous afternoon naked in the sun tied to that damn scaffold, Karl had now let him lay exposed in and out of the water.
“Gwaynn, get back in the water,” Karl croaked. “You’re burning to a crisp, and starting to smell good.” The boy didn’t react, and Karl nudged him, and then again before Gwaynn groaned and looked about. He didn’t say anything, and showed no sign that he had even heard Karl, so the big man reached up, and as gently as he could, pulled the boy back into the water.
“You’re burning,” he explained, but Gwaynn remained quiet, and they both just held on and floated with the current for several more hours before suddenly Gwaynn began to kick again. Karl, who was half sleeping, woke and looked over at the boy, who was smiling at him.
“I’m sure this is the right way,” he said so softly Karl almost didn’t hear him though he was less than a foot away. Karl smiled at him and began to kick also, though both kicked very lazily and rested often before starting up once again. They found a rhythm and kept it up most of the afternoon before each stopped to rest again. Dehydration was now setting in for both of them, and thinking clearly was becoming difficult even when they had thoughts. For the most part, they just hung on, mostly out of habit and instinct, and floated. Night came without either noticing, but when Karl finally did he used nearly all of his strength to haul Gwaynn back up onto the planks. Karl pulled himself half out of the water, knowing that he was likely to tip the boy if he was to try and haul himself all the way on top. He was not even sure the raft would hold his full weight, so he continued to hang on, his legs dangling in the water, kicking off and on the entire night.
Morning found Karl neither refreshed, nor rested, and he did not bother to even pull the boy into the water when the sun drew higher in the sky. He just continued to float and kick. The morning passed just as the night had, but with Karl resting more and more, and Gwaynn draped face down on the wet planking. Karl was not even sure the boy was alive anymore, but did not have the strength or inclination to check. Long stretches of time passed without a coherent thought, neither was holding out any hope of surviving, but living on just the same. How long he had been in the water, Karl could not say and it was nearly an hour before sunset when he first noticed the call of birds. He could hear them plainly and vaguely realized that he had been hearing the sounds for quite a while. He raised his head and looked about. The gulls circled over his head and flew up and down just above the wave tops.
‘Land must be somewhere close,’ Karl thought and his heart soared. He looked around for any sign but found it hard to focus, so he rested a moment, and then tried again. It took a few minutes, but finally from the crest of a wave he spotted land close, not even half a league away.
“Prince,” Karl croaked, barely above a whisper. “Land.” Gwaynn did not respond as Karl began to kick weakly, trying to steer them to salvation.
“Prince….” He said again, this time even softer than the last time. Gwaynn still made no move, and Karl gave up, not having the strength to continue. He just kicked and kicked, sometimes catching sight of the land growing closer, but mostly he just kicking mindlessly. Without thought he continued to swim, finally hearing the breakwater, knowing they were getting very close. He was not aware of how close until the waves began to lift them higher, and suddenly the surf flipped Gwaynn off the raft and threw Karl head over heals, tearing the planking free of his grip. Karl struggled to right himself underwater, and was surprised when his feet touched sand. He pushed off and shot to the surface just in time for the next wave to crash into him; it sent him reeling once more. When he finally managed to surface again, he looked first for the next wave and somehow managed to ride over the top of it, then he frantically looked about for Gwaynn. He spotted the boy’s light skin not far away. He was face down in the sea. Karl fought his way to him, exhausted, catching him just as the next wave struck them. Karl held on, however and with what strength he had left, tried to guide them both to land. The waves helped, pushing them up until finally the big man was able to crawl more than swim his way up onto the beach. He pulled Gwaynn up after him, and with a final titanic effort drew them both out of the water and as far up on the beach as he could manage before he collapsed from the effort and was still.
ǂ
Far to the south, in the former Capital City of the Massi, King Arsinol Deutzani was not amused.
“The Rattan just returned to port; the Captain is reporting the Calais is missing at sea as well as the Londalay,” Ja Brude, the King’s advisor said entering the former throne room of the Massi royal family. He glanced curiously at the three suspended women hanging from a hastily erected scaffold in the center of the room. All three were completely naked and Ja’s first impression was that the one on the far right could not rightly be called a woman. But after closer inspection he saw that though she was indeed young, she was clearly not a child. She was thin, much too thin, with underdeveloped breasts and nearly straight hips. Her body was closer to that of a young boy than a woman, except of course for the genitalia. Ja Brude kept his face carefully neutral as he gazed at her. She was built exactly to the King’s liking.
“The boy has escaped,” Arsinol stated, letting his anger rise, which did not bode well for the Massi women before him, but of course, they were unaware of the danger.
“That is far from certain,” Ja answered, his eyes lingering on the naked bodies of the three before him. The thin woman’s breasts were small, really not much more than nipples and he paid them no mind. His taste did not follow along the lines of his King’s, rather his attention remained fixed on the full breasts of the woman in the center. She was older, though far from old, perhaps thirty, perhaps not, but her breasts were large and swayed as she moved however slightly. Her head hung down so that her face was hidden beneath a swath of black hair, but her hips were wide and her thighs had a milky softness which made her dark triangle of pubic hair stand out all the more. Ja felt a surge from his groin. The King would not choose that one, he was sure. Perhaps, with a bit of persuading, she could be saved just for him, after all what was the fun of conquering new lands without a little rape… a little pillage.
“The storm was a bad one, and it seems unlikely that the Londalay could have survived, she being lighter and less able to handle high surf than our large war ships,” Ja said never taking his eyes from the center girl.
“No,” Arsinol said standing; the eyes of the women tied before him rose in unison, hoping for pity, hoping for mercy, but they saw none in his eyes as he picked the horsewhip from the table. “My heart tells me he has survived. I’ve given my youngest daughter to the High King in exchange for the destruction of the Massi. They must be killed…all of them. There must be proof.”
Ja shrugged. He knew the King doted on the Princess Audra, who, admittedly, was very beguiling for one so young. But even Arsinol must admit that he received a very good price for her, beauty or no. Brude’s attention went back to the hanging women and he unconsciously licked his lips, watching as the three sets of feminine eyes followed the whip in the King’s hand, much like a cornered rodent eyes an approaching snake.
“And Navarra will be laid up for at least a month from his injuries,” the King added as he moved in front of women, becoming excited by the fear freely displayed on their faces. “Injuries caused by Massi treachery,” he added then slowly moved behind the prisoners, taking in the pale plump backsides of the two on the left and the small tight one on the far right. He studied that one, hips narrow. His view was disrupted as the young woman, her curiosity and fear getting the best of her, turned to look back at him.
“Eyes front!” he yelled and lashed out at her, the whip leaving a bright red slash across the lower half of her small globes. The woman cried out in surprise and fear, her breath hissing through her lips as the pain began to spread. Arsinol smiled. Yes, she would be the one for tonight, he thought and with the decision made, concentrated the whip on the center woman, and the one on her left. Their cries rang out in the large hall as stroke after stroke fell. Ja watched avidly, as the two attempted to avoid the lash, but their range of movement was limited. There was no escape for them.
Fifteen minutes later they both hung limp and silent, blood running from numerous cuts, most of which were on their buttocks, but a few were on their lower backs and upper thighs. The girl on the right continued to whimper, waiting for the lash to visit her again. Arsinol watched her as she steadfastly remained looking forward. He smiled to himself. She would do. Then he swung the whip just one more time and slashed across her upper thighs. She screamed in surprise and waited fearfully for more, but the King took his knife and cut her from the scaffold. He pulled her out of the room and to his private chambers without another word. Ja waited until he was gone then moved to the women left standing. He placed his hand on the left breast of the woman he favored, lifting it slightly to feel it’s weight. She remained frozen, head down, though he could tell from her breathing that she was still in quite a bit of pain. He cut her down. He would take her from behind so he could see the welts.
“Give her to the men,” he said, indicating the lone woman left standing. The two remaining guards looked at each other and then back to the woman and smiled.