Forever Knight (The Champion Chronicles Book 3) (5 page)

Everyone ignored the big man that walked through their streets.  Maybe on another day he would have been challenged and even robbed.  But there was a much larger concern for everyone and taking advantage of a foreigner on their streets was not one of their concerns.

When he reached the water’s edge, he realized his big mistake.  There really was no beach or any way for him to walk out into the water.  The city was not only built right up to the water, but it was built over it.  A long boardwalk was constructed above the water that stretched from one end of the city to the other.  From that boardwalk, there were four long piers that extended out into the gulf.  They were each long enough to have two or three ships tied alongside, but only one lone ship sat tied to the last pier.  The ship’s sails were up and trimmed, as if it were about to depart.  He could see sailors climbing about the masts and rope ladders doing what sailors did to prepare their ships for the seas.  Marik decided it was truly his only way out of the city.  Jumping into the choppy, cold waters of the gulf would have been a death sentence.  He would have no chance of surviving.  But, he had a chance with the ship.

He feared that it would cast off before he got there.  He wanted to run, but he also didn’t want to draw attention to himself.  Walking briskly, he took long strides that ate up the distance quickly.  He passed by a muddy corral filled with pigs, cows, and sheep, and wrinkled his nose at the pungent smell.  It reminded him of South Karmon before the Summer Festival when the pigs had been moved into the city to be slaughtered. 

As he stepped onto the long wooden pier where the ship was tied up, the sun dipped below the horizon.  There was just enough light from the far off street lamps so that he could see without tripping.  The gangplank was still down when he finally reached the ship.  He slowed several steps before he reached it so that he could catch his breath.

Although he had not much spent time with sailors, he knew there were protocols to be followed.  Sailors tended to be an odd bunch and he didn’t want to upset them and ruin his chances of getting a ride out of the city.

“Hail!” Marik called out.  He stood at the bottom of the gangplank, looking up at the ship.  Two small lamps had been lit and hung on either side of the gangplank where it attached to the ship.  He could hear movement on the ship, but no one answered his hail.  “Hello, there!” he called out again.

A man stepped out of the shadows and between the lamps.  He was of average height and build.  He wore a loose fitting tunic and a dagger was stuffed into his belt.  The man stood with his feet spread wide, his hands on his hips.  But his most distinguishing trait was his dark, ebony skin.

“Who might you be?” the man called down in a thick accent.

“I am Marik, I am looking for passage.

“Sorry, mate, but I do not take on passengers, much less strangers.”

“I have plenty of coin!” Marik called out.  He pulled out his coin purse and shook it.

“Even if you had gold doubloons from the emperor himself, I would not take ye on.  Strangers like you are but a curse.  I will not risk my ship or my crew.”

“They have closed the gates and I must get back to South Karmon,” Marik exclaimed.  He took a step forward onto the gangplank.

Two scraggly men suddenly appeared from the shadows.  One of them raised a long, curved sword.  “Stand aside!” he said.  “You are not welcome.”

The man with the dark skin pushed the man’s arm down.  “Closed the gate, you say?”

“Yes,” Marik said.  “Centurions came to block the gate.  They claim that the emperor was killed and they will not let anyone out of the city until his killer has been found.”

The man turned and began shouting orders in some language that Marik did not understand.  The two scraggly men quickly disappeared.

After his orders had been delivered, the man waved for Marik to come aboard.  “Come, for that news, and your gold, I will give you passage.”

Marik climbed the gangplank and handed the man his coins.  With a bright, white smile, the man bounced the coin purse, measuring its weight.  “It’ll due for now.  I am Captain Gorge and this is my ship, the Flying Narwhal.  Welcome aboard.”

“Thank you …”

Captain Gorge pushed Marik aside.  “No time to talk, we must leave at once.  You say the emperor was killed?”

“Yes.”

Captain Gorge stopped in his tracks.  “It was not you, was it?”

“No!” Marik replied.  “Of course not!”

“We must cast off quickly.  If they closed the gates, the port will be next.  We must depart before they come.”  The captain looked up at his sails, which were billowing with a good wind.  “The gods of the sea are with us.  Most times we must row out away from the pier.  But the wind is at our back, and we can leave under sail.”

The gangplank was pulled up and a long piece of wood was set in place in the opening to serve as a railing.  After tossing the gangplank aside, the crewmen pushed past Marik and untied the ropes that held the ship to the pier.  As soon as the last rope was tossed back onto the pier, the captain barked more orders.  The sails were pulled tight and the ship started to move forward.

The quiet of the night made the shouts of the centurions reach their ears from some distance.  There was a small group of eight that had just arrived at the docks and were running down the pier, chasing after them.

Marik, who did not know what to do or where to stand, simply stood in place so he didn’t get run over.  Captain Gorge was suddenly next to him and said, “Not a moment too soon.  It is good that you came, else the centurions would have kept me from leaving.  I carry the last shipment of the year, and it is a full shipment.  The coin earned from this one will keep us fat and happy through the winter.”

The pilot steered the ship away from the docks and towards the open sea, but they still had not cleared the pier.  The centurions kept after them until they reached the end of the pier.  Then they pulled out their crossbows and launched them at the ship.  Several hit onto the ship, but the sailors were easily able to step aside.  They shouted back, laughing at the soldiers.

“More than fortunate,” the captain said.

“Oh?” Marik replied.

“The ships of the Taran Navy have moved to the south to Youngsport or Kaelen.  It is warm year round there.  If this were but three weeks ago, we’d have the navy on our tail and as fast as this ship is, it is no match for the schooners of the Taran Navy.  They would chase us down and board us, and I’d lose all my cargo.  And maybe my life.  I was due to pick up some barrels of ale in Iseron, but I think we will have to skip it.  A fast messenger could easily make it there before we did.  Hopefully by spring they will have forgotten about me.”

The captain looked around to be sure that his crew was handling their duties.  Once he was satisfied that the ship was on course and the sails were properly trimmed, he motioned for Marik to follow him.  “My cabin is aft.  Come, we will talk.”

The captain’s cabin was hardly more than a closet.  There was a shelf of scrolls and hard-bound books along a back wall.  Next to that was a plush chair that the captain took.  As soon as he sat down, he pulled out a pipe and a bag of tobacco.

“I’d offer you a pipe, but I only have this one.”

Marik shook his head.  “I have heard of smoke such as that, but I have never seen it.”

Captain Gorge smiled with the pipe between his teeth. “Of course.  Tarans are not fond of pipe or the smoke weed either.  I originally came from Netall, a land of great intrigue far to the south.  The smoke weed grows in abundance down there.  But it is also never cold there, either.  Half the year it is tolerable and the other half of the year it is too hot to live.  Now I make living ferrying cargo about the great empire.  I was about to return to Denalli, the place where I now call home.  But I needed one last run to fill the coffers for the winter.  Fortunate for you, I would say.”

The captain pulled down an oil lamp and used the flame from it to light his pipe.  He sucked and blew smoke for several moments before he settled back in his chair.

“You stare at me,” Captain Gorge observed.  “Is it my finely crafted black skin?”

“Well,” Marik stuttered.  “I have seen others with dark skin like yours, I just never have talked to anyone…”

“Like me?” Captain Gorge finished.  “In my land, it would be you who would be the odd one.  The heat of the sun will fry your skin, but mine will not.  You would hardly survive a week before your skin would boil right off the bone!”  The captain erupted into a loud, obnoxious laughter.

After a while, he let the laughter die and took a long pull on his pipe.  “What about you?  Where are you from, for you certainly are not Taran.”

“I am from Karmon.  And I must return there as soon as possible.  You will take me there, right?”

“Karmon.  Of course.  You are big and strong.  Soldier perhaps?  Even a knight?”

“I was a knight,” Marik replied.

“Was?  I did not know knights could be a was.  I thought they just always were.”

Marik spent a few minutes explaining that Queen Elissa had disbanded the knights.  He tried his best to explain how it was actually a good thing.  But even as he said the words, he did not truly believe them.

“A woman at the helm is a cursed ship.”

“The queen is a great ruler,” Marik snapped back.

Captain Gorge smiled between puffs.  “Of course she is.  So what were you doing in Taran, so far from your home?”

“Is it any of your business?”

“Yes, I think so,” Captain Gorge said.  “You are a guest on my ship, but I take all the risk of who you are.  Say you were the one who killed the emperor, then it would be me that has the risk of having the navy attack my ship.  Or when I return to Tara City in the spring, it would be my hide that would be flayed.  I believe you when you say that you did not kill the emperor.  I can see it in your eyes.  But you are not an innocent traveler, are you?  Tell me why you were in Taran.”

Marik glanced away, unable to look the captain in the eye.  The sight of Conner being slain came back into his mind with the force of a hammer and it sent his emotions falling off the edge.  Conner had been the little brother that he never had, and he had loved him as such.  To have seen him killed was one thing.  He had seen many good friends die in battle.  But to be thrown into an arena where his death was to be celebrated was simply too much.  His anger continued to grow towards the Tarans, and it crashed down on himself.

He should have done more to help Conner.  Regardless of his own life, he should have protected Conner.  That’s what a Karmon Knight would have done.  He would not have stood there in stunned silence.  He would have acted out of instinct and would have tried to save his life.  He knew he would have failed as there were too many centurions around.  But at least he would have tried and his name would have held honor beyond his death.

“I came for another.  A friend,” Marik finally said, his eyes still unfocused on the back wall of the small cabin.

“You did not find him?” the captain asked.

“I did,” Marik said softly.  The anger had seeped away and sadness had taken its place.  His voice was on the verge of cracking and tears were about to fall. 

“It did not go well.  For your friend, I mean.  I have been sailing the seas for thirty some years, since I was a young boy.  I have seen death too many times.  And I see death on your face.  I am sorry that your friend is dead.”

Marik closed his eyes, squeezing them so the tears would not come out.

“You run from those that killed your friend?  Is that why you are trying to get out of the city so quickly?”

Marik took a deep breath to gather himself.  “No.  They do not know of me.  I witnessed his death from the seats in the arena.”

“Oh!” Captain Gorge exclaimed.  “Your friend was a criminal, serving out his punishment?”

Marik’s anger turned towards Captain Gorge.  “No!  He was just a boy, a traveler from Karmon.”

“I am sorry,” the captain said genuinely.  “The Taran judicial system is not friendly to foreigners, especially when the prince is looking for gladiators for his arena.”

A loud shout from directly above them caught the captain’s attention.  He stood up and said, “
Garapa
.  It is our word for a ship that is trailing us.  It seems that maybe not all the Taran Navy has gone south for the winter.”

Marik followed the captain out of the cabin and back onto the deck.  The aft section of the ship was raised higher above the rest of the ship and the captain skipped the stairs and sprung acrobatically up onto that deck. Marik was not quite so limber, so he used the steps to climb up.  The pilot was at his station, two hands on the long tiller that controlled the rudder.  The pilot’s eyes were straight ahead, sighted on a fixed point in the distance that only he could see.

The captain stood at the back railing with another sailor, who was pointing in the distance.  They spoke in their native language for some time.

Finally, the captain turned to Marik.  “You are sure that they are not chasing after you.”

“Yes,” Marik said.  “Nobody knows about me.  I came into the city just as I found out that Conner was to fight.  I went straight to the arena to watch him.  I talked to no one and did nothing.”