Tides of darkness, p.1
Tides of Darkness, page 1
Tides
of
Darkness
Dragon Riders of Osnen Book 13
RICHARD FIERCE
Tides of Darkness © 2022 by Richard Fierce
This is a work of fiction. All events portrayed in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form without the express permission of the publisher.
Cover design by germancreative
Cover art by Nimesh Niyomal
Dragonfire Press
e-Book ISBN: 978-1-958354-11-7
First Edition: 2022
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Other Books
1
I stood on the deck of The Filthy Jewel and stared at the unending black water.
A strong wind was blowing in our favor, filling the brown sails and ruffling my hair. I had never been on the open ocean before, and it made me aware of just how small and insignificant I was compared to the vast body of water.
Malin was at the helm, guiding us continually west. Occasionally, he would pull a compass from his sash and hold it up, then he would turn the wheel a bit and nod and mutter to himself before returning the compass to the folds of the red material.
Malin was an interesting man. He didn’t bother to wear a shirt, and his skin was tan from the constant sun. When we’d first met, I thought his earrings had merely been solid gold circles, but they were actually coins. He’d drilled a hole in them and wore them in his ears, claiming it protected them from being stolen.
His crew was just as eccentric looking as he was, and I began to suspect they weren’t just common sailors. Every one of them bore scars along their bodies, scars that appeared to have been made by swords. Whether Malin commanded a crew of pirates, I didn’t bother to ask. It wasn’t my business, and as long as he got us to the Whispering Cliffs and back, I had no concern for what he did in his own time.
The galleon shuddered and groaned as it struck a large wave, drawing my focus back to the water. Much to my surprise, I found I enjoyed the smell of the salt ocean and the breeze on my face. I walked to the port side of the ship and leaned over the railing, inhaling a deep breath. I knew nothing about sailing, but it seemed we were moving at a brisk pace.
Another groan, a human one, carried on the air, and I looked to where Maren was. She was sitting cross-legged near the captain’s quarters with a bucket in her lap, and a few moments later, she vomited into it. Soon after departing the port, she’d become seasick. She was doing somewhat better now, but she was so exhausted from retching that she could hardly walk.
I felt bad for her, but Malin said he had nothing that would ease her discomfort, so she had to suffer through it. I walked over to where she was and knelt beside her, scrunching my nose at the stench coming from the bucket.
“Can you empty this for me?” she rasped.
“Of course,” I replied. I did as she asked and brought the bucket back to her, then sat on the deck next to her.
“Is there any sign of land yet?”
I shook my head. We had been on the ocean for five days now, and there was nothing but black water and blue sky in all directions. I looked up and watched Demris as he soared on the currents, his wings stretched out wide. He and Sion took turns flying with the ship and resting by floating in the water.
“Tyrval never said how far it was,” I replied. “Hopefully, we’re close.”
Maren didn’t say anything. She held onto the bucket, her eyes half-closed.
“You didn’t get this sick on the ferry. Are you …?”
Maren shook her head slightly. “No, not that.”
“Oh.” For a moment, I wasn’t sure if I was disappointed or not. With everything going on in the world, the last thing we needed to worry about right now was a baby, but still. That fleeting moment of excitement was exhilarating.
“You haven’t thought of any spells that will help?”
I had already asked her that, but I was hoping she might have remembered something. She shook her head again. I rubbed her back comfortingly.
“Go do something,” she said. “I don’t like you seeing me this way.”
I smiled. “You’re funny.”
“No, I’m hilarious.”
At least she still had her sense of humor, despite how she was feeling. I rose to my feet and walked to where Malin was.
“A storm is brewing,” he said.
The sky was clear, without a cloud in sight. I gave him an odd look, and he chuckled.
“I can feel it in me bones, boy. It’s a strong one, too. When it comes, ye and yer wife should get below. Yer not experienced enough to be out here in the thick o’ it.”
I didn’t disagree with him, so I nodded.
“Since you can sense when a storm is coming, can you also tell when land is near?”
“Afraid I’m not a wizard, so no. If ye could start securing the ship, it’ll make me job easier when we come upon the storm.”
“Of course.”
I went to work tying down everything with rope. The other crew members were doing the same, and I kept looking at the sky to check for clouds. Of course, there were none.
He’s right, Sion said. I can smell the rain coming.
Are you sure that’s not the ocean water in your nose?
I’m sure.
Malin obviously had more experience than me, so I didn’t want to question him, but it seemed odd that he could sense a storm that wasn’t visible. Perhaps he was magically inclined and simply didn’t know it. Then again, he’d been sailing most of his life, so maybe he’d learned to spot things I was missing. I pushed the thoughts away and continued working.
Once all the loose items on the ship were secured, I returned to Malin’s side at the helm. His eyes scanned the horizon.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Nothing I can see yet. It’s best to avoid a storm when possible, but I don’t know which direction she’s comin’ from. Once I see ‘er, we’ll need to furl the sails quickly. The wind will tear them to shreds, and without sails, we’re dead in the water.”
“How do you avoid a storm? It seems it would be too big to escape.”
“Speed, me boy. If ye can outrun ‘er, ye’ve guaranteed yerself to live another day. If not, yer fate is up to the sea goddess’s mercy.”
“You’ve been in lots of storms?”
Malin nodded. “Aye, too many to count. Even still, it’s ne’er a good idea to let your guard down on the ocean. Ye might want to get yer lass below deck now and make ‘er comfortable. Once the storm hits, this ship will be as unsteady as me when I’ve had too much rum.”
I was starting to get worried. If a storm immobilized the ship, Sion and Demris could probably pull us to land, but that would delay our journey to the Whispering Cliffs, which in turn would delay our return to the Citadel.
Keep us safe, I prayed, looking to the heavens. I did not aim my word at any deity in particular, just a semi-desperate plea to anyone that was listening. I walked to where Maren sat and helped her to her feet, placing her arm across my shoulder to support her.
“I can’t eat anything,” Maren said.
“That’s not what we’re doing,” I replied. “Malin says a storm is coming, and he wants you down below in case it gets bad.”
“I’m sorry, Eldwin.”
“For what?”
“That I’m so weak.”
“You’re not weak,” I said. “You’re the strongest person I know. Getting seasick is perfectly normal.” I wasn’t sure if that was true, but I didn’t think a little lie would hurt.
It was a minor struggle to get Maren down the stairs, but once we were below deck, it was easy to get her to our room. She collapsed onto the cot and I set her bucket beside the bed.
“It’s right here if you need it. I’m going to get you some broth, and then I’ll be back to stay with you. Don’t leave this room.”
“Where would I go?” Maren asked. “I can barely walk.”
I left the room and headed for the galley. Malin had taught me a lot about the lingo used on the ship. The galley was a fancy name for the kitchen. The floor of the galley was lined with tin, which protected the ship from catching fire if hot coals fell from the stove. It was a clever setup, but I was most impressed with the stove. It hung from chains that were attached to the ceiling beams, and it stayed steady no matter how the ship swayed.
Malin had also lectured me on the basic anatomy of the ship. The bow was the front of the ship, while the rear was called the stern. If one were facing the bow, the left side of the ship was called port, and the right was starboard. It was relatively easy to remember the information, though I doubted I would ever use it after this voyage. I stepped into the galley and the cook, Denley, was busy putting the stove’s fire out.
“Do you have any warm broth? Maren needs something in her stomach.”
“Aye, there’s some in the pot there.”
The ship’s cook had served dinner early, and I was glad to know there was still something left for Maren. I grabbed a wooden bowl and used the ladle in the pot to transfer some of the liquid to the bowl, offering a nod to Denley as I headed back toward my room. I reached the door and was about to open it when the ship lurched. The bowl slipped, spilling some of the broth on the floor, and I cursed under my breath.
A moment later, a bell tolled.
I rushed above deck to see what was happening. In the distance, where there had been clear skies before, dark billowy clouds were visible. I walked to the railing and looked down. The water was choppy, and the waves were steadily growing in size.
“The sails, boy! Help furl the sails!”
I tossed the bowl down and did as Malin commanded.
2
The tempest was upon us.
The fading light of the sun was blotted out by the storm clouds, and we were smothered into obscurity between the black water of the ocean and the darkness above. Lightning arced across the sky, briefly turning night into day. Thunder cracked, and the rain poured heavily from the heavens like a waterfall. Massive waves and powerful gusts tossed both ship and crew about furiously.
Malin was at the helm, fighting desperately to keep the ship’s wheel from spinning out of control. He was shouting orders, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying. The wind whipped his words away, and the thunder shattered them to pieces. A colossal wave crashed across the deck, sending one of the crew members sprawling. The ship tilted under the barrage of wind and water, and the unlucky person tumbled off the port side into the ocean.
The rest of the crew abandoned their posts and made a mad dash below deck. With the amount of water washing across the ship, I was worried we were going to sink. I fought against the wind and rain to the helm and grabbed onto Malin’s arm.
“We need to get below!” I shouted.
Malin cackled like a madman. “Go! I’m in me element, boy!”
He had a rope tied around his waist that connected to the mainmast, and I realized he intended to remain where he was. If he had a death wish, that was his choice, but I wanted to live. I slid across the deck and hurried below, managing to get into the room with Maren. Her face was pale, more so than before, and I climbed onto the cot and embraced her.
“We’ll be fine,” I said, though the creaking of the ship made me doubt the vessel would hold up against the storm.
A thunderous boom shook the timber of the ship, and something snapped overhead. Before I could move, a ceiling beam collapsed and struck me in the head. The last thing I saw was Maren’s terrified face.
When I awoke, all was quiet. I was looking up at the night sky, and the stars shone bright and clear. I sat up and groaned as everything around me spun, making me dizzy. Bile rose in my throat, and I rolled onto my side and vomited on the sand.
Sand.
We were on land? I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and glanced around. The Dirty Jewel was resting awkwardly against the shore, and a fire burned a few feet away from it. Maren was lying beside me, asleep. Sion and Demris were curled up nearby, and Sion’s eyes penetrated the gloom to meet mine.
Are you all right?
My head hurts, I replied. Something was wrapped tightly around my head, and I reached up to touch it. A bandage.
Maren said something struck you during the storm.
A fragment of the memory came back to me. A ceiling beam broke. I looked at the ship.
What happened?
The storm blew us off course, Sion answered. Demris saw this island, and we pulled the ship onto the beach.
I got to my feet and walked on shaky legs to the fire. Malin and his crew were gathered around it, and the captain looked up as I approached.
“Eldwin, yer alive!”
“I’ve been through worse,” I said. “Where are we?”
“I haven’t the faintest idea. Never sailed this far west afore. Accordin’ to me maps, there ain’t supposed to be anythin’ here.”
“And yet here is an island.”
“Indeed,” Malin chuckled. “Seems that the maps be wrong.”
Doing a quick count of the crew, it seemed we were only missing the one person who fell off the ship during the storm.
“I assume we’ll get back to sailing in the morning?”
“That be me hope, but we’ll check the ship over to be sure. For now, we rest and we drink.” Malin held up a bottle, offering it to me.
“No thanks,” I said. “I’m going to get some rest.”
I returned to Maren’s side and laid in the sand beside her. Out of instinct, it was tempting to stay up and keep watch, especially since Malin and his crew planned on getting drunk, but Sion and Demris were close enough that I doubted anything would happen without their notice. The ground was uncomfortable, and after much tossing and turning, I eventually found rest.
When dawn came, my headache had subsided. I got up and saw Maren was gone, but Sion and Demris were still curled up nearby.
She’s in the trees relieving herself, Sion said.
Thanks.
Malin’s crew was sprawled out around the remains of last night’s fire, but Malin was gone. I pulled my boots off and walked along the beach, enjoying the feeling of the gritty sand between my toes. I made my way toward the ship, and Malin peered down over the railing at me.
“Bad news,” he said.
“What is it?”
“The Jewel here sustained some damage. Nothin’ major, but she’ll need repairs afore we can sail.”
“How long will that take?” I asked.
“A few hours. We should be back on the waves by noon.”
We had already lost a full night of travel, but sailing on a damaged ship would only cause more problems. It couldn’t be helped. I nodded and walked back up the beach, brushing my feet off and putting my boots back on. Maren still wasn’t back, and I was getting worried. I plunged into the tree line, using my sword to hack at the thick undergrowth.
“Maren?”
Ahead and to my right, something rustled in the bushes. I turned my blade tip outward and slowly stalked closer. A flash of movement caught my eye, and then Maren stomped out from behind the bushes. She gave me an indignant look, and I lowered my sword.
“Sorry.”
“I found something you should see.”
“What is it?”
“I could tell you, but I’d rather you see it. Follow me.”
Maren went back into the brush, and I followed her. She moved quickly, as if she hadn’t been sick at all the last few days. The deeper into the jungle we got, the hotter and more uncomfortable it became. Sweat gathered on my brow, and it seemed I was continuously wiping it away.
“How far in did you go?” I asked.
“Not too far.”
I snorted. It seemed pretty far to me. Glancing back, I couldn’t see the beach, only the dense jungle. After a few more minutes of walking, the foliage cleared, and we stepped out onto a worn path. It was overgrown from disuse, but it was clearly man-made.
“This is odd.”
“It gets better,” Maren said. She grabbed my hand and pulled me along the path. It led to the stone ruins of what appeared to be a building, possibly a fortress. What remained of it was covered with vines and moss, and a darkened doorway led inside.
“What’s in there?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t go inside, but I can sense strong magic emanating from it.”
I surveyed the surroundings of the ruins, but it was impossible to tell what sort of architecture had been used. It could have been an old Osnen settlement. I looked at Maren.
“You seem to be feeling better.”
“I am. The motion of the ship was unbearable. Now that I’m on solid ground again, I feel fine.”
“Good.”
A mischievous gleam was in Maren’s eyes.
“Do you want to see what’s inside?”
“How did I know you were going to ask me that?”
3
The wood of the door had rotted away, leaving only a few pieces still attached to the hinges. I took the lead and stepped through the doorway, stopping short.
“I can’t see,” I said.
