Iron war, p.24
Iron War, page 24
part #4 of The Jack of Magic Series
The wind was dying down on deck. Now was as good a time as ever to get some sword practice. She might not be able to do magic, or at least not much, but she could at least practice her skills with her sword. Unable to part with it, she had brought it on board as she always brought it with her everywhere. She ran to the tent to retrieve it from her pack.
Mark found Portia several hours later, sweaty and resting with her feet over the edge of the deck, staring out at the waters. She was wiping down the blade with her extra overtunic, making sure it was clean of sea spray and any sweat that may have dripped on it. The copper of the weapon shone in the dim light of the setting sun.
“That really is a beautiful weapon,” Mark said as he dropped down to sit next to her. “Is it truly an Elven blade?”
Portia looked down at the copper blade. She thought it vibrated in response to her gaze. “It came from the Elven lands. I did not get the true story of where it came from.”
“It came from the king and queen,” Mark said.
“No, where it came from before then. How it came to be in their armory. I was in such a hurry to get back to Haulstatt that it wasn’t the time to try to find out more.”
“I wouldn’t care where it came from if I had such a fine weapon.” Mark turned to stare out at the horizon. The land behind them had disappeared hours ago. Only sea stretched out in all directions. It was disconcerting to be so far away from solid ground.
“We should be coming upon the splinter soon,” Mark said. They were about halfway to the Well of Tears. This was the spot where their information had described another splinter. They should be upon it at any time.
Portia glanced up at the lookout in the crow’s nest. She had been on edge waiting to hear a call out all day, but none had come. The dwarf high up on the mast had seen nothing.
“Staring won’t make him see anything sooner,” said Mark, not even checking where her gaze was pointed.
“I know, but it worries me to not know where the Dragonoid forces are,” said Portia, dropping her eyes once again to stare out at the horizon.
“I know. I agree. How they didn’t just rampage through Lusatiana and onward to Haulstatt is a mystery. If Grania is such a great spymaster, how can she have no answers for that?” A hint of disbelief surfaced in his voice.
“She isn’t like the cult or those companies you worked for,” Portia said, defending the spymaster without even thinking and almost instantly regretting it.
“I stopped working for that company,” he said defensively. “And how do you know she’s not like them? Does she tell you what she’s thinking or doing? She just appears and talks about her intelligence and spies to the queen and king.” He looked around suddenly, as if he expected the spymaster herself to step out from a shadow nearby. When no black shadow lengthened to reveal a woman, he relaxed and turned back. “I don’t trust her.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes, contemplating the mystery of where the Dragonoid forces had gone after Portia had closed the gigantic splinter at the Well of Tears that had allowed their enormous ships to pass into their lands. The Dragonoid they had captured at the attack on the harbor at Coverack and forced to talk had mentioned another splinter being created. There might even be more than one if the Dragonoids had the ability to make new ones. Portia hoped it wasn’t so, but rather that they were pushing open an already existing portal that was somehow weakened. If the Dragonoids could create splinters at will, it would be near impossible to defend their lands from portals that could open anywhere, at any time, especially if they were so overpowered by the strange weapons of the Dragonoids.
The wind whistled over the dock, picking up in speed and making the lines above them sing and vibrate. Portia shivered, her sweat now chilled. She yanked her spare overtunic over her head and pulled her arms inside, rubbing them vigorously to warm up. The clouds whirled on the horizon, spiraling up into a tall vertical column that rose higher into the sky than she thought possible. It didn’t look natural.
It wasn’t natural.
Portia jumped to her feet and pointed at the cloud column. “Splinter! It’s right there!”
Mark followed the direction of her finger and gasped when he saw it. There had been nothing there a moment before. Just then, the lookout in the crow’s nest called out the alarm and rang the bell over and over again. The soldiers and sailors on the deck sprang into action, running and churning like an angry bees’ nest.
Orders were called out in the ships below—the human clipper ships—which fell into formation to the sides and behind the Pearl. Flagmen at the front of each ship waved signals, directing the action and communicating between the ships for their captains. Portia cursed herself for not having learned the flags yet. She had planned to do so but then forgotten and practiced her sword instead. It was a stupid mistake.
She ran back to the tent where her pack was and dug through it to find the pieces of body armor she had: the stiff leather guards and the chain mail neckpiece that fell down over her chest. It wasn’t as protective as the heavy plate armor many of the soldiers had, but she could move quickly in it. Ella and Mia were there as well, pulling on what pieces they had and strapping daggers to their belts. Portia hoped they would not get close enough to need the knives in direct combat, but it was better to be prepared.
They exited the tent to find Magisend and her cronies already dressed and ready for battle. Portia nodded acknowledgment of their being so well-prepared. Magisend’s look of contempt and boredom had been replaced by an intense set of her jaw, and her eyes gleamed as she looked to Portia.
“I’m ready, anytime you are, partner,” Magisend Lucy said.
Portia raised an eyebrow at the respectful term.
“I can call you commoner again if that would make you feel more comfortable… commoner,” Magisend Lucy said, perfectly understanding Portia’s surprise.
“I wouldn’t want to strain you too much by asking you to change your habits,” Portia said, dishing out sarcasm even while adjusting her baldric and her sword.
“No strain. A perfect memory, remember?” Magisend smirked.
Portia wished she could forget. Of all the people to have the skills they needed for this mission, it had to be Magisend Lucy. She shook her head and beckoned Magisend to follow her by way of response.
The captain had already called out the orders for the catapults to be loaded. His second echoed his orders for the crew further down the boat, and they were yelled sailor to sailor. Despite the ship having been stored for generations, the crew worked in perfect synchrony. They must have drilled somehow, Portia realized, deep within the bowels of the earth in the Dwarven kingdom of Morgani. It took immense discipline to work so hard to be prepared to sail on a ship one might never see in one’s lifetime. Portia’s respect for the dwarves rose in a leap. They worked seamlessly as a team.
Running to the edge of the deck, Portia saw that the other ships had fallen far behind the Pearl. It must have been by design. Mark joined her at the rail, pushing between her and Magisend Lucy.
“I overheard them talking,” he said, looking down at the ships with her. “They’re going to try your technique with the catapults. The wood of this craft is magically reinforced. It’s not as good as metal, I guess, but better than what the clippers have.”
Portia looked down at the deep red wood of the hull. It shone and had depth, like there were several inches of water over the wood. It was beautiful. And apparently strong. The clipper ships behind them look like painted matchsticks in comparison.
“We need to get to the splinter,” Portia said.
Archmage Vermeil joined them, staring out at the fast-approaching squall of clouds. “If there are enemy ships there, we have to disable them first. Our queen is not willing to underestimate these Dragonoids again. For that I am grateful. I’ve seen firsthand the damage they’ve done.”
Portia nodded, thankful they were not immediately facing hand-to-hand combat with the Dragonoids. It sometimes seemed so unreal that she and Iva had survived in their land, as if it had happened to another person. The horrific battle at the splinter within the Dwarven kingdom was still a fresh memory.
The squall of clouds continued to puff out and up, a space opening up from beneath them to the waters below. Three smaller Dragonoid ships sailed out towards them. Even from a distance, it was clear they were not as big as the ship upon which they stood. Portia cautiously exhaled, hopeful that there were no more vessels deep within the clouds ahead.
A flash of fire rose up on the deck of the middle ship and just as quickly disappeared, followed by a boom that rang out over the waters.
“Duck!” Portia yelled.
She grabbed Mark and Archmage Vermeil by the sleeves and pulled them back, scrambling to get around the far side of the captain’s overlook structure. If the shot from the enemy ship had the range to get as far as they were, the three of them were on an open deck with no cover. They were completely vulnerable.
Luckily, the shot had been premature. An enormous splash jumped up from the waters between the ships as the cannonball from the Dragonoid vessel fell far short of its mark.
“Set!” a sailor yelled, the command having come down from the captain to fire. The gigantic catapult high on the deck creaked and moaned as it was cranked tight. The wood of it squealed and screeched in agony. The hair on Portia’s arms rose, and the skin on the back of her neck and scalp tingled. There was enormous energy stored within that catapult, and if anything went wrong and it did not fire, all that energy had to go somewhere. Suddenly, she was afraid of the weapons on their own deck more than she was of the Dragonoid ships across the waters.
But the catapult did fire. When the command was given and passed down the line to the chief weapons officer at the catapult, his arm came down to signal its release. The gigantic arm of the catapult swung free and its basket flew high over the deck, flinging the payload forward, just missing their own mast in its trajectory towards the Dragonoid ships.
The payload arched high in the air above them, racing towards the enemy. It started its descent. Portia yelled in frustration—it was not going to reach its target. But just as she thought they were doomed, the gigantic rock payload burst into several large pieces, two of which hit the ships ahead of them. The impact rang out with the echo of a metal cup hitting the ground. It was a good strike. The Academy mages at the railings cheered while still throwing fire and ice magic towards the enemy ships, following up on what the catapult had started. The decks glowed red and then faded again as Portia recognized the series of strikes Professor Aelric had first designed in their mission on the Dancing Queen. The second catapult on deck creaked and complained as it was cranked back and readied for firing, while the first was reloaded. The deck was a hive of activity.
Portia moved to get closer to see what was happening to the ships ahead, but Mark held her back by one arm. She whirled on him. Both he and Archmage Vermeil faced her.
“You can’t go there. Stay here where you are safe,” Mark said, refusing to let go of her arm despite her pulling on it. Magisend Lucy watched from over Mark’s shoulder.
Portia stared at the two of them. “You were sent here by Professor Aelric, weren’t you?”
“What if we were? Wouldn’t it be better if we weren’t needed to be here to stop you? We need you to be ready to go to the splinter,” Mark said, standing up to her in a way he had never done before. A sudden feeling that she did not know him at all overtook her.
Archmage Vermeil nodded agreement with Mark’s words.
She growled under her breath but could not deny that he was right. “Fine. But Magisend stays too. We can’t lose her,” Portia said.
Magisend started to say something when Mark and Archmage Vermeil turned to her, but she shut her mouth again and gave them a curt nod.
Satisfied, Portia turned to watch the other students rush to help the academy mages while the battle continued. It seemed like an eternity of strikes firing from the catapults against the three ships who had increased their speed towards them, returning their own fire of whistling metal balls. The enemy ships were pushing to get into range so their payloads would hit their targets instead of landing futilely in the sea. It was a race to see if they could do it before the damage from the Dwarven ship was too much.
The middle Dragonoid ship had not made it, having sunk after too many direct strikes, but the two flanking it continued on, one aiming straight for the Pearl, the other veering in the opposite direction. The Dragonoid ship had made several direct strikes on the Pearl. The Pearl creaked and moaned with each hit and the decks vibrated with the impacts, but blessedly, none of the strikes tore through the walls of the ship. They only sent small fragments of damaged wood to fall down into the waters below. To Portia’s horror, she saw several soldiers swimming in the frothy seas below the ship, having been knocked from its deck with the force of the impacts.
The other Dragonoid ship had sailed to the side and away from the Pearl. Portia didn’t understand what it was doing until it turned its cannons and fired at one of the clippers behind them and to the right. The cannon found its target and tore through the wooden clipper ship like it was a child’s toy, the wooden beams and sails exploding outward and spreading across the water like so much painted debris. Men screamed. The hull of the ship took fire and burned on the water. Bile rose in Portia’s throat.
Another cannonball landed in the water of the remains of the ship, warding away the other clippers that would have come to the rescue. Rage clouded Portia’s vision. Her hands clenched; she wanted to strike out at the enemy ship. Mark grabbed her hand and shook it, making her look at him. Over his shoulder, she saw Magisend Lucy with a strange expression on her face as she stared at Portia and then at the ships in the water and all the damage being done. It took Portia a minute to realize the expression on Magisend’s face was concern.
Finally, with the mages at the rail redoubling their efforts and the two catapults on deck whizzing their payloads overhead, the second ship was sunk and then the third chased and finished.
Portia couldn’t bear the thought of all the Dragonoids on board drowning. She had to turn away as the ships sank into the seas.
Even as they had caused the destruction of the ship of their fleet, she could not be glad of their own deaths. Why had it come to this? Why couldn’t it have been a peaceful meeting from two different lands?
Her thoughts went back to the ancient book written by one of the early human invaders. They had been no better. Her face flushed red at the memory. She turned so no one saw her and looked back out over the waters at where the three ships had been, now only holding choppy blue waves.
The smaller, more nimble clipper ships below raced to rescue the men in the water from the sunken ship behind them while everyone on board the Pearl stood tense and watched, waiting to see if another ship would emerge from the clouds ahead. None did. The sun was setting, sending its rays stretching underneath the heavy hanging clouds and illuminating what was below them. The faint shimmer of a portal splinter shown over the water, but there were no other ships.
Professor Aelric came running up to them. “Hurry,” he said, motioning for Portia and Magisend to run to the side where a longboat stood in its harness waiting to be lowered to the waters. “We can get close, but we don’t dare let any part of this vessel drift inside the splinter. We know the splinters can pull a current—at least the other splinter did. Who knows what would happen when such a large vessel comes into contact with too small a splinter.”
Portia looked up, confused. “If it’s small, how did those larger ships we saw at the Well of Tears disappear?” Those huge, Dragonoid ships had been stuck on the Haulstatt side when she had closed the splinter and trapped herself on the far side, in the Dragonoid’s land.
Professor Aelric shook his head. “We don’t know, but they aren’t here. And something else might come out of that splinter any moment, so we must hurry.” He glanced at the setting sun. “We don’t want to be doing this after dark. Let’s go. We’ll be providing cover from here.”
Mages and students lined the rail closest to the splinter, all at the ready in case anything appeared from within it.
Portia nodded at Professor Aelric.
Portia, Magisend Lucy, and Professor Aelric ran towards the longboat. A full crew of sailors waited for them. As soon as Portia and Magisend were loaded onto the small craft, it was dropped with stomach-churning rapidity down to the waters below, the lines clanking as ropes raced through pulleys. The boat landed with a thud on the choppy waters. The pacer called out immediately to start the rowing. The boat jerked forward with each stroke of the rowers.
Between the moans of the men in the water behind her, the choppy waves, and the jerking rowing, Portia thought she was going to be sick. She leaned forward and put her head down by her knees, not caring what Magisend thought of her. Blessedly, the girl said nothing, and Portia concentrated on her breathing in and out.
Portia was soaked through from the sea spray by the time they rowed under the swirling clouds and reached the location of the splinter. Her wool cloak still held warmth even as water dripped down her back and along her arms.
The portal was much smaller than the splinter over the sea at the Well of Tears. The oval of the splinter rose up above them and down into the waters, but it did not extend nearly deep or high enough for a large ship to pass through completely, nor even one of the clippers behind them. Portia tried to think if one of the three Dragonoid ships would have fit through the splinter, but it was difficult to concentrate with her nausea from the rough waters. She looked to the top of the oval above her.
“We have to get closer!” she yelled to the sailor in charge of the prow of the ship, struggling to be heard in the winds and rough water. She pointed to Magisend Lucy, who was huddled in her own cloak. “She has to hear the splinter. She has to put her head through,” Portia said.
