Same Friends and New Enemies

The Western seas were breathtaking. They sailed due west off the coast to the Ingot Isles. Said to have been discovered by a fearless pirate seeking the edges of the map. He loved the story. Aria Oakheart wanted to see what truly ended at the end. Was it the world itself, or just our understanding of it? She set sail 400 years ago on her legendary Brisbane ship and saw wonders and horrors beyond imagining. Sadly, her story ended there. She found the Ingot Isles and continued her voyage… never to be seen again.

It was storybook, yet in comparison, Sparrowhawk wasn’t exactly the wave weaver he had hoped for. His serenity in staring beyond the horizon was interrupted by the ship hands repairing the rust bucket as they sailed. The floor occasionally snapped beneath you, the anchor was rusted to the core, and they merely suggested a mast. Still, they flew the Skye family’s red and black, which was enough to keep away any nearby pirates, as Oswyn had told him. And, the Sparrow at the bow held strong, unbroken and steadfast.

The four most outstanding of Alden’s fleet were ahead of him, each commanded by Aurelio, Arian, Coryn and Oswyn respectively. Aurelio’s Goldspear was the most regal, gliding through the distance effortlessly. Arian’s was the opposite; Hellfire was staunch and heavy, yet it powered through to keep pace with his bitter rival. However, neither could match the Iceglider of their younger brother. It was definitely smaller and much less menacing, yet it was a hummingbird against a windless morn, darting back and forth ahead of them all.

Oswyn commanded the biggest of them all. He had to. The Kaminos held supplies, guards and scholars. Truth be told, it looked like it could fit the entirety of Ignis inside and still have room for more.

*-*-*

He found that training on a rickety raft at high tide was about as fun as a punch to the face. Kamau had started putting more force in his strikes, and every block knocked him off his feet. Then, when he observed the strike, to try and evade it, the boat would rock against the waves, and he would stumble into an unblocked attack.

The sun was setting as their session ended, with Robin left with bumps and bruises to accompany Kamau’s smug talk. “A warrior must fight more than the person ahead. He must fight his surroundings and bend them to his will!”

When I can command the sea, I’ll let you know… he thought.

The Prince’s quarters lacked the luxury he had come to expect. A beautiful room with a breathtaking view of the streets outside became a tool cupboard with a net hammock that looked about as stable as his current mental state. The gleaming, warm embrace of the bathhouse was now a wooden tub by the side of the crew’s cards table. So, instead, he decided to sleep under the stars at the bow. He thought back to his conversation with Kamau midway through their break. “Who do you think killed the King, Kamau?” He asked.

His teacher pondered briefly, pouring the lukewarm water from the barrel beside him over his face to awaken the skin. “An outsider like me can only wonder. But if you don’t mind me asking, why the sudden interest?” Kamau fired back as he wiped away the water.

“No reason.” Robin responded, his body betraying his mind as his eyes wandered and his hands shook. These were things Kamau noticed.

“Prince, if you know something about the King’s killing…”

“I don’t.” Robin interrupted. “Or at least… I’m not entirely sure.” Kamau watched his wandering eyes and traced them to the Goldspear and Hellfire respectively, all before they looked deep into Kamau’s own, and he knew what Robin was thinking.

“That is an awfully dark claim to make, Prince.” Kamau whispered so as to not be heard. “Kinslaying is sin enough; Regicide is another entirely.”

“I’m not claiming it, Kamau. I spoke with Oswyn two nights ago. These are his suspicions…” Kamau’s complexion grew dull and pale. “And if they are more than suspicion… I doubt I’m off that list writ in blood.”

Kamau was smart. He knew the words of a boy of 13 years with no less than a few months as a Prince were words filled with naïveté. The words of a man that, for the better part of his 60 years, had been the secret leader of the nation, those words held weight. Oswyn was a spider; he was all too good at playing his role and letting his silks spin, letting it slowly circle around and form a complex web. He did not spew baseless accusations.

“He said that? Chancellor Oswyn believes either Aurelio or Arian killed their father?” Kamau asked quietly.

“Who else would it be?” Robin asked. “Both are mad. Arian threatened to go to war, and Aurelio threatened us all, Oswyn included.” This left Kamau silent, tracing his thoughts with his finger against the wooden barrel lid. “If it is one of them, I need to know what I’m up against. I’ve seen Aurelio’s training, and I’ve heard stories of Arian. But Oswyn allowed us an aide to keep us safe before each trial… who are they?” Robin asked.

“Well, Aurelio has a few knights at his side. But his closest is her.” He pointed to the Goldspear. Reina was different. She was born from a royal guard nicknamed Blackrose, who lived in the east. But she didn’t take after him. She looked more like her Ezoan mother, short and slender, with long dark hair and midnight-sky eyes. Her short stature did not match her character. The Goldspear had warriors and hardened sailors aboard, all people of immense power. Yet she barked orders at them like they were children at her feet. “Reina Penrose. The Blackrose first recommended his daughter as a wife for Aurelio, but he declined. Instead, she joined the Silver Blades.”

“Silver Blades?”

“The King’s closest guards and strongest warriors. She became Aurelio’s guard, and he’s kept her around ever since.” Kamau added. The next ship lagged slightly behind the Goldspear; it was Arian’s Hellfire. Upon the deck were two warriors facing each other. The first was tall, bulky and grizzled. The other, shorter but only by an inch or so, with hair that clung to his face like seaweed. He wielded a queer sword; it had a subtle curve to it and no guard… in fact, there was no handle either; he had wrapped it in gauze.

The first laughed loud enough even Robin could hear, but he wasn’t laughing long. The second drew his blade and sliced through his neck before anyone realised. Now dead, he slumped to the deck and slipped off, painting the waters red. “That one is to be avoided, Prince. He’s a hired sword, a former vagrant of upper Vardar. He was ruthless enough that even us in the west heard his name. Brakkan Redblade.” Kamau explained, giving Robin time to recover from the sight.

“Coryn himself might not be a cause for worry, but his aide is.” Just as Kamau said so, Iceglider drifted past the Sparrowhawk with Coryn cheering from the bow. Behind him stood a man so tall he cleared the young Prince even though he was standing on much lower ground. “They call him Okul. I’ve heard that they found him wandering the coast of Alden; no idea how he got there or where he came from… he doesn’t speak, just grunts and moans. He fought in the pits for a few years and killed every man that faced him, gruesomely, I might add. They called him The Colossus… for obvious reasons.”

“Can you handle them?” Robin asked as he steadied himself on the barrel. Kamau considered the question, envisioning each battle.

“Penrose is a difficult one. I have no idea how skilled she is. Redblade and Colossus would be down to luck. I can outspeed the big one, but it’s likely game over if he catches me. And Redblade? He’s not of honour; chances are his beloved blade is poisoned. If it is, he’ll be trouble.”

“Not exactly inspiring confidence, Kamau.”

“I didn’t say I’d lose. All three are killable, but then so is everyone. All I can do is trust my sword and my skill… and I can keep you safe. That I can promise.” He nudged his student with his elbow. “We can talk about strategy later. We’ll arrive by the next morning. You’ve got no time to waste worrying about kings and killers!”

Kamau was ready for round two. Truthfully, Robin lacked sea legs, and the weariness only worsened them. But, training took his mind off it all. Plus… he needed all he could get.

*-*-*

Reina Penrose… Brakkan Redblade… Okul the Colossus… Aurelio Skye… Arian Skye…

He muttered the names over and over again under the stars as he spun his pendant in his fingers. Each a name that he feared, belonging to people that, in the darkness, could find their way aboard the Sparrowhawk and slit his throat without so much as a drip of ocean water upon the deck.

It’s okay… Kamau is here… Kamau is here… he kept reminding himself, hoping it would help calm him down so he could finally drift off to dreamland.

For a little while, it started to work. But his words began to waver; the sound of wood against wood sent shivers down his spine. It’s just the wind. It’s just shaky doors or wobbly tables… he told himself. But it did nothing to calm his fear, and the sound got louder.

He found the strength to seek it out and traced it to a small group of barrels. The centre-most one shook unnaturally. Every vision he had since the morning played, one of the names jumping from the barrel and plunging steel through his skin. Cold sweat poured from his face, and every hair stood on its end… he wanted to reach out for it, see what creature awaited him, what monster filled him with such dread. The rest of the crew were asleep already, Kamau as well. But he needed them here; they could laugh at him all they wanted should it be a rat or the wind. He needed to have someone close.

“Kamau! “he called out, but as the sound left his throat, he heard a voice in the barrel. Quiet and strangely familiar, but it wasn’t of a man. It kept eking out every so often, just quiet enough he could make out odd words. Others had heard him call, and he could also hear footsteps charge towards them. He got closer to the barrel, and at each noise, he saw a blurred painting in his mind; each noise made it clearer and clearer. Up until he was ear against wood… “…” that’s…

The barrel lid lifted as if fired from a cannon, smashing into the Prince’s face and knocking him on his rear as the sailors and Kamau arrived.

Robin didn’t see, but he heard metal screeching against metal, a sword against its sheath. “Stop there!” Kamau demanded. “Name yourself!”

Who was it?! Reina Penrose? She matched the size. Maybe Coryn was playing a trick on him? No, Kamau wouldn’t ask his name! He realised. But, as he opened his eyes, he saw exactly who their stowaway was. A peasant much like him, with auburn hair cut without care. She crumpled back into the barrel, using it to shield herself. “I’m…” she managed to cry out. But Robin was so overjoyed to say her name, finally…

“Tara!”

*-*-*

A new day dawned, and the wailing of a terrified stowaway filled the air. “I’m sorrryyy!!” She cried, much like a small child caught stealing sweet treats. Robin calmed down the very annoyed captain and Kamau enough that she wasn’t immediately thrown overboard.

“I need an explanation.” Kamau ordered. “Make it good, or I’m feeding you to the sharks.”

“Noooo!” She cried again

“Kamau! She’s the one I told you about! She’s Tara!” Robin explained.

“I don’t need a name, Prince. I need to know why she’s here, on a ship she shouldn’t be on.”

“Actually, why are you here?” Robin asked her, curious how she managed to sneak onto a royal ship.

Once she had managed to calm down enough, she mumbled, “Ria said, you were going to the docks… I saw you boarding… so, I followed.”

“Why?” Kamau asked, getting impatient.

“Why?” She blew her nose on her ragged cloth. “Cause Robin’s my friend…”. It was so matter of fact that it somehow stunned each of them silent. “I didn’t get to see you, ever since we found out you were the King’s son… now you’re going somewhere so dangerous. I, I couldn’t let you go alone.”

“Tara…” Robin said, feeling touched by her actions.

Kamau was conflicted. His task was to keep Robin safe and any faces he did not know were dangerous. Ever since he was young, he was of honour and duty. To allow emotions to pull you away from your duty was unforgivable… and yet, two gutter rat brats facing the world together felt like home. In his mind, gone was the Sparrowhawk and Tara and Robin. Instead, it was sand and blood. He could taste smoke in his mouth and feel fur at his hand. He remembered this. He was ambushed by a lone lion, a renegade banished from the pride and hungry. It rushed at him while he wasn’t looking and clawed at his shoulder, but before its teeth could clamp down on his neck, an arrow dug into its leg.

The beast roared and saw the archer. Kamau saw the chance, drew his sword, sliced the beast’s eyes out, and then split its head. He fell to his feet, but the archer held out their hand. “Come on, Kam, not much further.”

That person, their name sacred to him. Tara was in their image.

He sighed and sheathed his blade. “What do you think, Captain Boros?”

The captain was 70 years young and tough as old boots. His hair was snow white apart from his beard, which had been soaked by so much wine over the years it had turned red. He didn’t care for much other than his drink… “eh. We should have enough food on board. If not, could always ask Oswyn for more… or not, who cares?”

Not getting a good enough response from their “captain”, Kamau made his decision. “Alright… you can stay, provided you behave.”

Tara looked dumbfounded, but Robin rushed over and hugged her tightly. “Thank you, Kamau!” He cheered, leaving his teacher with a smile.

Their new guest took a while to calm down, but soon after she brought calm to the ship. Instead of heading back down to the sleeping quarters, Kamau stayed with the two, and they watched the stars become the sun, talking and laughing. Robin’s mind drifted away from the fear and his foes. He hadn’t even noticed when they had fallen asleep, but his mind was at ease for once.

*-*-*

The ease didn’t last long. While they slept, the Sparrowhawk, Hellfire, Iceglider, Goldspear and Kaminos reached and docked at the Ingot Isles. It was unfortunate for Robin, for the night’s happiness was gone and replaced with the anxiety of the now.

The first island was the smallest, just a rock in the ocean. But underneath the rock was a cavern, large and dark. Water filled it completely, yet he could see lights inside.

Oswyn had the four competitors lined up facing the cave while he and the onlookers, Kamau and Tara included, watched on from their ships. “Heirs.” Oswyn called. He was using one of his spells, one to amplify his voice. “Behind you is the first trial.”

It’s finally beginning, Robin thought nervously.

“You will find one path down to the blade of the depths. The notes of Kings gone by tell of a being guarding the weapon, a being that cannot be defeated by sword or speed. Only he who is most worthy of wielding the blade may take it.” Oswyn continued.

Anticipation was in the air. They stood anxiously, awaiting the start of the trials, formulating a pathway to victory. Like walking a tightrope in pure darkness, one wrong move, and it was over before it even began. Time ceased to flow here, seemingly also held captive by Oswyn. But as the clock struck, Oswyn lifted his arm and bellowed the words.

“Begin.”