Sparrow woke just as he was heading for the door.
“Lock, what’s wrong?”
He heard her voice in the distance, but his mind still spun with the nightmare. He raced to the barn and guided Sea-Storm into the blinding rain, not bothering with saddle or bridle.
Sparrow, barefoot, wearing only her cloak, grasped his arm hard. “Lock, what are you doing?”
“Ship’s sinking off the west beach. Go to the village and get help. Have them wait on shore.”
“How do you know there’s a ship sinking?” she demanded.
“I saw it in a dream.”
“Just because you had a few dreams that came true—”
“Means I know the difference between one that’s foolishness and one that’s a vision.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Take the ship out.” He mounted Sea-Storm and using hands and knees, nudged the animal down the path toward the beach.
“Lock! You can’t take the ship out in this storm! It’s not completely finished and you don’t have a crew! You’ll be killed!”
“Maybe, but if I don’t go, they won’t make it. Do as I tell you, Sparrow!”
He kicked the white stallion to a gallop and didn’t stop until he reached his ship tossing in the dock amidst the raging storm.
Squinting against the rain and wind, he turned the ship out to sea.
Waves crashed over the ship. Several times he thought he’d capsize and wondered if Sparrow was right. She’d looked at him as if he was mad. Perhaps he was, for there was no ship in…There! Just ahead the vessel was halfway down. Several men leapt from the rails and joined the others who struggled to keep their heads above the waves. The lifeboat had already sunk.
One of the men noticed Lock and swam for his ship. He threw the swimmer a line and hauled him on deck. Two other men followed. Lock saw that there were two swimming with the burden of a companion in distress.
Kicking off his boots, shirt, and trousers, he asked one of the men nearest him, “Can you control this vessel?”
The man nodded, and Lock jumped into the freezing water. Having spent most of his life in the ocean, Lock was an excellent swimmer and had on more than one occasion plucked companions from the sea during wrecks. He swam toward the two men aiding their injured companion and took the wounded one to the ship before dragging three more men aboard and climbing on deck himself where he sat on his knees, gasping, tendrils of wet hair streaming in his face.
“How many of you were lost?” Lock panted.
“We’re it,” said a tall, slender man with a dark, wiry beard. “We’re all here.”
“All?” Lock narrowed his eyes at his passengers. Though the ship was far too full for a craft of its size, there were no more than twelve on board and two large, tawny dogs—scarcely any for the size of the ship, which had almost disappeared beneath the water.
“Because of the battles with Zaltana, there were few to send on this mission,” the bearded man continued as he stooped by one of his wounded comrades and did his best to stop the bleeding from a gash on his arm. Lock noticed both the men wore a black uniform with a circle of red thorns embroidered around a ruby over their hearts. The man who’d been talking wore a green sash about his narrow waist. He suddenly realized they were all Knights of the Ruby Order.
Lock took control of his vessel, knowing they had to get away from the sinking ship quickly lest they be dragged down with it.
A tall, slim redhead with an even redder beard and eyes almost as pale as Lock’s approached him. This man also wore a green sash over his wet black tunic. He touched Lock’s arm. “You listened when the Spirits spoke. Thank you.”
“Eh?” Lock demanded as he fought the storm for control of the ship.
“Your vision,” the redhead told him.
“How did you know about that?”
Though he didn’t reply, a streak of lightning revealed the redhead’s smile.
Lock sighed with relief when he saw the shoreline. Sparrow and several villagers ran toward them as they docked.
“Goddess!” Sparrow murmured, staring at the men on board. “You were right, Lock!”
“I told you,” he said. “Some of these men are wounded, and they’ll need places to stay for the night.”
“Knights of the Ruby Order?” a villager said. “All of you?”
“We are,” said the one with the dark beard.
Several villagers volunteered their homes and took the wounded as Lock and the healthy passengers carried them off the ship.
“Can we put up a few, girl?” Lock glanced at Sparrow.
“Of course,” she said. “We have plenty of room.”
Lock and Sparrow’s home was closest to the beach, so they helped the two bearded Knights with green sashes and another lanky comrade with short, black hair haul three of the wounded to the house. The two dogs followed.
Inside, Sparrow lit lanterns and fetched a bucket of water.
The Knights settled the wounded. While the redhead worked on their injuries, the one with the dark beard said, “I’m going to the village to help the others.”
“I’ll go with you.” The black-haired knight stood. Both paused as they reached the door and thanked Lock for his assistance.
“Most of us wouldn’t have survived without your help.” The black-haired one extended his hand to Lock.
“Was nothing. No bother.”
“My name is Torn. This is Crag.” He pointed to his companion with the dark, wiry beard.
“We’re in your debt,” Crag said.
“Not at all.”
As the two Knights left the house, Lock kindled the fire.
“Mate of the Key, help me,” the redhead stated. Lock glanced over his shoulder, and the Knight smiled. “Yes. Help me bind this leg. Good practice for you.”
Lock approached and applied pressure to the cut on the man’s thigh. This Knight had dark hair and deep blue eyes. Both dogs hovered around him like drooling gargoyles. He patted them weakly and gasped as Lock began cleaning the wound according to the redhead’s instructions. Lock didn’t take his eyes from his task and marveled that the redhead could so easily instruct and work at the same time.
Lock’s charge cursed under his breath as the former pirate applied more pressure. “Don’t know your own strength, man!”
“What do you call these beasts?” Lock motioned with his head towards the dogs in an attempt to keep the man’s mind off his injury.
“That’s Roland. And the pretty one’s Melinda.”
Lock chuckled, stealing a quick glance at the dog’s snubbed and wrinkled black face. “She’s a beauty all right.”
“I’m Rain. What’s your name?”
“Mate of the Key,” the redhead muttered.
“Mate of the Key!” Rain snapped. “What the hell is that supposed to mean, Blaze?”
“My name’s Lock.”
The redhead cast Rain a knowing look. “As I said, Mate of the Key.”
“You’ll get used to Blaze,” Rain told Lock. Again, he glanced at his redheaded companion who was murmuring to himself as he stitched a gash in the head of an unconscious Knight. Rain added, “No. I lied. Most of us never get used to Blaze, but he has a good heart and is the best healer in our Order. Lock’s your name? Why does that sound so familiar?”
“Erik’s acquaintance,” Blaze supplied.
“Sir Erik?” Lock asked. “I met him and another Knight, Warrant, in Begonia.”
“Oh, right.” Rain nodded. “He told us about your skill in the ring and how you killed Miska.”
To Lock, it seemed so long ago that he and Sparrow had lived in Begonia. It had been the best and worst time of his life. He thought it was strange how he and the Knights of the Ruby Order had crossed paths twice.
Sparrow stepped inside carrying two buckets of water. She glanced at Lock with curiosity as he helped Blaze set Rain’s broken leg.
“Good,” Blaze said. “You’ll be a fine addition.”
“To what?”
“Pay him no mind.” Rain waved his hand in Blaze’s direction.
“Ignore what you don’t understand and you’ll understand it no better next year,” Blaze told him.
“I’ve known you over fifteen years, Blaze, and I still don’t understand!”
Sparrow filled a bowl with water and brought it to Blaze so he could clean blood from his charge’s face. The redheaded Knight smiled at her. “Thank you, Little Bird.”
She giggled. “How did you know my name?”
“Thought your name was Sparrow,” Lock muttered.
Blaze shrugged. “Sparrow. Little Bird.”
“I like that,” Sparrow said. “What can I do to help?”
For the next several hours, they cared for the injured. Afterward, Sparrow prepared a quick meal of bread and fruit. Just as they were about to eat, Torn and Crag returned.
“That was an admirable display of courage,” Torn said to Lock. “But I wonder what you were doing out in the middle of a storm?”
Blaze glanced at Lock. “Guided by the Spirits.”
“In a way I guess I was. I dreamed your ship was sinking. I’ve had dreams before that came true, and I knew this one was the same.”
“You risked your life to help us,” Crag said. “And simply for a dream. Few people would have done that.”
“Lock’s a rare man.” Sparrow rested a hand on her husband’s arm.
“Not really. I understand the sea, that’s all. I’ve been in enough storms and wrecks to know what to expect.”
“In a half built fishing ship?” Rain looked skeptical.
“No.” Blaze stared at Lock. “The blood on his hands is not from fish alone.”
“I’ve never heard it put quite that way.” Lock raised an eyebrow. “I’ve sailed all over the world and seen my share of battles. I’m not proud to say I caused most of them. I was a SothSea pirate.”
“I see. “ Torn’s eyes swept Lock. “How did you end up here?”
“Striving for redemption.” Lock winked at Sparrow, a gesture of affection without humor.
“Well, you’ve made a hell of a good start,” Rain said, tearing a chunk of bread with his teeth. “You’re—”
“Lock the White,” Crag said. “I’ve heard of you.”
“Lock the White?” Torn narrowed his eyes. “I thought you were dead. Apparently Erik must have thought so, too. He spoke of a man called Lock whom he wanted to recruit, but evidently didn’t realize you were the pirate.”
Sparrow said, “Lock the White
is
dead. My Lock is alive.”
“I can’t erase what I’ve done, Sparrow.”
“None of us can,” Crag told him. “But just because we can’t change what we’ve done doesn’t mean we can’t improve what we do. You’re lucky to have realized that.”
“I had some help.” Lock slid his arm around Sparrow and drew her to his side. “From my…little bird.”
Sparrow smiled at him.
“Why were there so few on board?” Lock asked. “That was a good sized vessel.”
“We went to lend aid to a small southern island Zaltana was invading.” Torn shook his head. “They never give up.”
Crag took a swallow of tea and said, “They never will. Trust me.”
“What about you?” Rain nodded in Lock’s direction. “How did a SothSea pirate end up in the ring at Begonia and on a fishing ship out here?”
“It’s a long story.”
“We have time.” Blaze’s blue eyes were wide with interest. In spite of the man’s strange ways, Lock liked him.
He sighed and began, “My ship went down off the coast of Lower Kenna. The crew died at sea, but the last thing I remember is swimming…”
* * * * *
The Knights exchanged glances when Lock finished his story.
“You’ve had a harsh guide on the path to redemption,” Blaze said. “But perhaps not unjustified.”
Lock raised his mug to the redhead. “That’s right enough.”
“Still, many men would have taken the first ship back to the Archipelago,” Rain reflected. “And the Lock the White we heard of never would have risked his life to rescue a bunch of drowning men he didn’t know.”
Lock gave a wry chuckle. “Or who he did know.”
“We’ve lost many this year because of Zaltana,” Torn said. “And we have few ships and fewer able sailors. We could use a man with your skill.”
“Have you thought any more about joining the Knighthood?” Rain asked. “I think Erik might have been right about you.”
Lock shook his head. “How can I be a Knight?”
“Why not?” Sparrow asked quietly. “You’re a great sailor, a master of hand-to-hand combat. Your skills are wasted here, Lock. I’ve always known that.”
“Erik raved about your prowess in the ring,” Blaze said.
“He knows a fighting form similar to yours,” Sparrow explained. “I once saw Knights give a demonstration at a palace in the North.”
Blaze smiled. “Yes. I remember now. I…Fourth daughter. Princess.”
“Not anymore,” Sparrow said.
“The spirits spoke. I would offer condolences for your family’s fall, but you’re content without the royal robes.”
“Yes, I am.”
“They say you speak in many ways.”
“Speak in many…Yes.” Sparrow understood. “I’m fluent in ten languages—actually eleven, since I spent time living with the gypsies.”