Harbinger: The Downfall - Book One (21 page)

Cite stepped forward to say something, but was stopped by the Captain holding up her hand.

“Tildan, do you think he did it?” she asked, her voice did not sound as strong as it did when she was on the quarterdeck.

“I don’t know,” Tildan rubbed his chin. His face showed the conflict inside him. “I like the fellow. He seems decent. I know what he does for a living though, and you don’t get to that level of power without being able to put on a face and seem trustworthy.”

“Bezel, I stopped you on deck because you were going to say things that I did not want said in front of the crew. Please, go on now.”

Cite interrupted before Bezel could speak. “Wait, you said this concerns me, and I think I should get a say! I know Rogen, and I know he wouldn’t do this. What reason would he have to do it? It makes no sense!” Cite stepped towards Dawn. Tildan stepped between the two and put a gentle hand on Cite’s shoulder.

“Calm down, lad. She will give you your say. But this is not the best time to be flying off the handle or making demands. Half the crew would string you up right next to Rogen just because you knew him. The other half would do it because you came aboard with him. You are in here for your safety more than for your input. Just relax and listen. You will learn more by listening than having outbursts.” Tildan guided Cite to a chair.

Cite sat down without thinking. He cocked his head as he realized that the giant was right. Cite had abilities that didn’t seem to work when he was tense and emotional, but worked well when he was relaxed. Cite looked up and nodded at Tildan, who smiled.

“I’m sorry, you’re right Tildan. It just that my nerves are shot. Could I have a drink? Please? And would it be alright if I smoke?” Cite asked.

“That is a good idea, Tildan, pour us all a drink,” Dawn said. “Cite, normally I wouldn’t allow it in my private quarters, but this is an exception. Go ahead and smoke a pipe if you like. I can’t open a window though; I don’t want our conversation drifting to the crew.”

Tildan poured rum for everyone. He gave Dawn her glass first, and she finished before Cite was handed the second glass. Cite downed his with a single swallow and a grimace, and held his glass up for more. Tildan guffawed, and poured one more for the Captain and Cite.

Bezel watched the whole proceeding with his hands clasped behind his back, his head turning to watch each person as they spoke, and his eyebrows slightly raised. As Tildan handed him a glass of rum, he held it up to the light then brought it to his lips and took a sip. He stepped into the middle of the room and addressed the Captain in his slow confident tone.

“Let us begin with why he would do it, so we may get the stupid arguments out of the way, shall we?” Bezel asked rhetorically. “The man is not human, thus he may enjoy killing us. He is a slaver, thus has no regard for life. He wanted to keep his identity secret and felt killing the Captain, as that was clearly his goal, would allow him to control the ship and enslave the rest of the crew.

“He showed one man the murder weapon before he went in, and two of the ship’s officers did not see it when they looked. The man the Rokairn showed the murder weapon and received a two handed wave from Rogen when the Rokairn exited, but a different man saw the blood, but not the one who received the wave. Tildan saw him leave the formal room outside this door, but did not see blood. I know Tildan well enough to say if he were drunk or otherwise occupied, he may miss the obvious, but even though he does not have two working eyes, he does notice most things. I think perhaps that he would have noticed bloody hands.

“Rogen did not have any blood, except his own, upon him. There was no blood on the doorknob leading out of the formal room, where a man with bloody hands should have left some. Rogen is not an idiot. He has led a prosperous business with the money making equivalent of a kingdom.” Bezel paused to sip at his rum.

Cite had relaxed quite a bit. He had drunk his rum in quick gulps, then packed and lit his pipe. He leaned back and puffed slowly, letting his ears hear what Bezel said but opened his mind to more than just words. His head spun as the alcohol and tobacco took effect. Bezel continued.

“I know you refused to call him by his name, because as the Captain you became an impartial judge when this event happened. I know you had to pull yourself back from the brink that losing someone close pushes you towards.”

Cite felt an emotional flood from Dawn when Bezel said that. He had impressions of a man, a woman, and some younger people, all with the emotional tie of family. Cite was stunned that he had received actual pictures from her thoughts. He realized the pictures were continued in a torrent. The man and woman strung up on wooden X’s. The younger people being tortured. Dawn had seen this all. The pictures were fast and incomplete. When Cite looked at Dawn, she had her eyes squeezed shut and was shaking her head as if trying to stop the unwelcome memories.
‘By the Traveling God, did I cause these memories to surface?’
Cite wondered. Tildan had gone to Dawn’s side and Bezel had stopped talking and stared at Dawn with his eyes wide, not in surprise, just in an expression of curious interest.

“Dawn, are you all right?” Tildan asked. Dawn gripped her head with both hands. Dropping them, she looked up at her Uncle.

“Yes, I am fine. Bezel, please go on.” Her eyes showed red around the edges and it was obvious that her uncle did not believe her.

“I think I am finished Captain. I do not believe our guest is either stupid or a murderer in this instance.” He turned and sat down, holding his rum with both hands, fingers steepled in front of the glass.

“Then who did it?” she asked. “Maurence lies dead on the other side of that door. The crew is trusted. Cite was on deck a couple feet from you and Vonka. So, who did it? Me? I was in here, and the murder happened right outside that door. I should have heard something.”

“Well,” Tildan said, “Maurence was a mute.”

“Uncle,” Dawn glared at Tildan, “now is not the time for humor.”

“No,” Bezel responded as he looked at Dawn. “I do not think it was you, and there are others we can rule out right away. Vonka, Cite, and myself were all on the quarterdeck. Tildan was talking with Warton on the foredeck, planning the meals with the new supplies that had been taken on board during our stop on Stadia Isle. Tart and Puffer and the remaining crew were both tending duties on the main deck. We need to determine where Kytson, Jumper, Conald, Cutter, and Treat all were when this took place.”

“Jumper is accounted for.” said Tildan.

“Is he?” asked Bezel, “He was with you then, on the foredeck planning meals, of course. Silly of me not to remember that.”

“No, but he helped Warton and me drag Rogen from below deck.”

“Ah, yes he did. And before he assisted you with that, where was he?” Bezel asked. Tildan thought for a moment.

“I don’t know. Very well, we need to figure out where he was then too.”

“We can’t wait long,” Dawn said. “We need to figure it out quickly before the crew decides to outvote me and lynch our guest, leaving the real murderer free.”

“Well, it shouldn’t be too hard. We just need to find the crewmember who looks exactly like our short bearded friend and that blood slides off without staining.” Tildan quipped as he rolled his eyes.

They were interrupted by a knock at the cabin door. Tildan stepped over and opened it. Cutter, the surgeon, was standing outside. Tildan opened the door wider so he could enter.

“What did you find?” asked the Captain. Cutter wore a fresh shirt and his surgeon’s apron was gone, but blood still stained his hands and arms, though he had tried to wash it off.

“Warton and I washed Maurence and wrapped him for burial. There was no struggle. It was one blow to the top of the head. There was blood on the ceiling and wall Maurence was facing. Maurence should have seen whoever it was. He was standing when he was hit, and one hit was all it took. I don’t think the murderer was short. Either that or Rogen clung to the rafters. But the spray doesn’t show any interruption in the blood. It is like the person who did this was invisible and flying and things would pass right through him like a ghost.” The doctor finished and wrung the towel he carried.

“Thank you, Cutter. Don’t repeat any of that to anyone, understand?” Dawn said.

Cutter nodded and Tildan opened the door so he could leave.

After the door closed, Dawn continued. “Tildan, talk to Warton, make sure he understands to keep quiet also. Bezel, you are in charge; I will be out shortly. I will want a constant guard on Rogen. It is possible a man with his power could have access to magic that could do this. I think it is obvious that we are dealing with some sort of magic here. He may have items that allow him to fool people’s minds and do the other things Cutter suggested. I want him stripped to his small clothes and searched completely, inside and out. He may also have items that allow him to call upon others to do this.” Cite tried to interrupt, but the Captain kept talking. She looked at Cite as she spoke. “I do not think he did this. Otherwise I would have already slit his throat and fed him to the sharks. But I have to take the precautions. If we do not find a killer in twenty-four hours, I will have to execute him. I can delay it for that long. I will tell the crew that out of respect for Maurence, we will mourn for that time. Dismissed, everyone. Let’s do this.” She gestured towards the door. Bezel nodded, set down his glass and turned to leave. Tildan reached for the door to open it when Cite interrupted again.

“Don’t I get my say? Didn’t you tell me I would get my chance? Please Captain, can I speak with you?”

“I think Bezel said all that could be said, I told you we would try and find who else could have done it. What else is there to say?” She waved at Tildan to open the door. As Tildan did so Cite concentrated and Dawn felt the words in her head,
‘Please, allow me to talk to you, privately.’
Dawn looked at Cite with wide eyes, then said, “Uncle, stay for a minute. I want to talk to Cite. Mister Bezel, thank you. See to your duties.”

Bezel left with a sideways nod to the Captain and another to Tildan, then a backwards glance to Cite. Tildan shut the door behind Bezel.

After a couple moments, Dawn spoke.

“How did you do that?” she demanded. Tildan looked back and forth between Cite and Dawn, confused.

“Please, allow me to speak to you alone.” Cite asked.

“No, I don’t think so,” Dawn said. “If you can send me thoughts, you may be dangerous. You could be able to make people see what you want them to!” Tildan dropped his hand to his dagger that he had yet to remove after the ship left the dock. Cite looked at Tildan and back to Dawn, and knew he didn’t have any other choice.

“I can send and sometimes receive thoughts. I am a Mind Mage. Rogen told Tildan this when we boarded.” Dawn looked at Tildan.

“You told me he was a self-proclaimed prophet, not a man who can twist others’ minds,” she said to Tildan.

“I was more concerned with Rogen.” Tildan gestured at Cite. “This one doesn’t carry himself like someone you worry about. I didn’t know he could do all that.”

“I can’t!” Cite exclaimed, worried that he was about to be imprisoned also, or worse. “Well, I haven’t. I am not sure how far I can go. I know I can pick up strong feelings and sometimes thoughts. I can send my thoughts to others sometimes. It was only a couple of weeks ago it started. Before that I would only dream things that came true, and it was not as if that happened every night.”

“Anything else you can do?” Dawn asked.

“I can sort of move things with my mind, and when I am under attack I have made a knife out of mental energy. Twice.” He felt something odd from Dawn then, a bond of understanding coming from her, a kinship as he explained his abilities. “You are a Mind Mage, too?” he asked her.

“Me?” she laughed. “No, but I am no stranger to magic. Most of the crew knows, but we don’t talk about it.” Tildan put a hand on her arm and began to interrupt. “It’s ok Uncle, he would find out with his thought sensing anyway. Besides, if he is an enemy then knowing this may make him think twice before attacking me or anyone else.” She looked at Cite who was shaking his head. “Well, even if you wouldn’t, there are so few who know magic it will be nice to share a bit with someone who does. I am a Wizard. I am an elementalist that can see Ley Lines and draw upon their elemental magic. It is part of the reason I am the Captain of the Lady Luck. I used to travel with my father and help with winds and waves and such. I have become stronger with age, and life experiences sometimes allow me to draw on things I could not before.”

“A Wizard? You can call rain and lightning from a clear sky? Rain down fireballs? That sort of thing?” Cite asked, his words slurred a little as he spoke.

“Sometimes. I usually just suggest to the current weather, not control it completely. If I make something from nothing it fucks up the weather in the area for weeks to come. I try not to do that.” She smiled.

“Your father.” Cite hesitated. “I am sorry. I saw part of your thoughts. I didn’t mean to, but it came from you and I couldn’t help seeing it, it was so strong.”

Dawn paled slightly and stepped back. “My family was killed. Tortured to death. Not just my father, all of them. Duke Malvornick had them taken because my father would not become an exclusive ship for his needs. I escaped using my magic. I think it made the Duke want me more than he wanted my father. I got back to the boat. My uncle fled with me on board. I used to be angry with him,” She looked at Tildan with a gentle smile, “but I know it is the only reason I am free now. It was the wise thing to do, and not let an angry girl go and die trying for revenge against a man who crushes thrones for his sick pleasures.”