Titans nest, p.8
Titan's Nest, page 8
The salt ridden air became denser and I could see a thin layer of fog wrapping around the few trees that remained in our path. Peeking out from the fog ahead, in between us and the Shattered Gulf, a patch of tall, thin, and sharp roofed buildings clustered snuggly together.Like a bundle of twigs tied together too tightly, it looked like the buildings inside were forced to bend in every direction to keep from snapping.
“Welcome to Bergh,” Captain Ollak announced, “this is the last town in Eclipto we will see on our trek.”
As we grew closer across a well taken path, the black buildings with their green roofs reminded me of the tall woods from which we had just emerged. A gate even more flimsy than that of Hunt's Burrow wrapped around the tight bundle of buildings. It stood a small patch of muddied color against the canvas of the massive gulf. Four long and wide docks spread out from the town; five ships, varying in size, rested at their station.
A few steps passed the gate and I had made up my mind, “I don’t like Bergh.”
“I don’t think I like it much either,” Maximus snickered. The whole town smelt of trout. It seemed like every villager wore the same pointed wool hat with flopping ear flaps and carried the same worn look upon their faces. I stayed tight in the circle of soldiers and averted my eyes from the suspicious glares that fell upon our party.
“A cheerful bunch, eh?” I mumbled to Maximus cautiously. “You’d be just as spry if you lived in this wormhole.” “Fair.”
Their gloomy stares quickly faded once they realized what, or rather who, they watched so carefully. Tenebros sat perched handsomely upon Maximus square shoulders and the crowd soon cried out in the Primal Tongue, “Praise the Bitten Knight of Dazawrath!” Some villagers fell to their hands and knees, others held out their hands as if to worship the sky above, some just
respectfully bowed. Maximus waved and nodded while Tenebros released a sharp squeal that made the crowd even more excitable.
Ollak and his men made sure no one pushed through their blockade of horses and armor and we continued to the docks without any difficulty.
We passed through the city and were instructed to remove our gear and supplies from our horses, for they would be staying here in the north, and a new batch of steeds would be awaiting us once we landed on the other end of the gulf.
We followed a path made from waterlogged planks of wood laid over mud down to the docks. At the base of the dock with the largest ship, a short and round man greeted us. His round nose shone pink from the sun and his mouth sat framed in a thick goatee. Well-groomed side- burns ran the length of his face on either side.
“Praise the Bitten Knight of Dazawrath,” the man said, bowing as low as his large belly would allow, removing his massive hat. “I am Bormund Flagsbellow,” he announced, “I have the honor and privilege of captaining your vessel across the Shattered Gulf, young Bitten One.”
“A pleasure, Captain,” Maximus said kindly. Something had caught Tenebros’ sharp gaze and with a few sharp flaps, the dragon took off into the clouds. “Not too far,” Maximus said casually as the dragon zoomed towards the waters of the gulf.
“What a fine beast,” Bormund said with a long dragged-out whistle as we all watched Tenebros vanish into the fog. “In all my travels across the seas of Dazawrath, I've never seen anything like it.” He readjusted the leather belt around his gut, shifting the saber he had strapped at his waist.
“Is this her?” Ollak asked. Stepping past Bormund onto the wood of the dock, he gestured towards the largest ship in the area.
“Aye!” Bormund announced with a shimmer in his eye and pride in his voice. “Allow me to present, Wraith.” Again, he removed his hat and used it to point at the massive vessel before us. “You won’t find a finer ship anywhere in Dazawrath, even them salt-suckers down in Cy’ann are jealous of the Wraith and all her glory.”
I doubt that, I thought to myself. Despite how impressive the Wraith appeared, no one built ships like the kingdom of Cy’ann, if the rumors held true.
“She cuts across the wake like a ghost hidden in the fog, too fast for the eye to see,” Bormund assured us. “I’ll have you at Sandpeak in two days, if the wind is with us, that is.”
“Speed is not my concern,” Ollak snarled looking at the ship. “Safe passage is. The Shattered Gulf has claimed many ships, but I don’t need to tell you that.”
“I assure you; I’ve been sailing these waters since I was a wee lad, and I know well how this gulf earned its name,” Bormund said sternly. “The jagged rocks that call this gulf home won’t so much as scratch the Wraith as long as I am at the wheel.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” Ollak said with a nod, his mustache darker from the ocean mist it now contained.
My eyes widened and my throat ran dry, I hadn’t considered why they call it the Shattered Gulf. I suddenly longed to step off the bank and start the trek back to Hunt's Burrow where ship- wrecks were impossible.
The three masted ship loomed over us like a great wooden monster bathing in the shallows. Her folded sails were white as snow, with the exception of the violet topgallant that bore Eclipto’s crest upon her face.
“When will she be ready?” Maximus asked.
“She is ready now, Bitten One.” Bormund slapped his belly with one hand, his other hand resting on the pommel of his blade.
Tenebros reappeared from the fog, a brown fish between his jaws. His black scales shimmered from the droplets of water that still clung to him. He landed upon the deck near Maximus, a proud smirk apparent across his maw. He dropped the trout upon the wood and before it could wiggle away, Tenebros’ talons drove into the head of the fish, causing me to wince. The dragon’s fangs took hold of the creature at the base of the gills and pulled upwards, removing the fish’s head from its body. The slimy figure vanished down Tenebros’ throat in two swift gulps, leaving the head on the dock.
“Upon your word, Lord Duskfell,” Ollak said looking towards Maximus. “Let us set sail.”
“Aye!” Bormund said with glee. He looked up at the crewmen that were peeking over the edge of the ship to see Tenebros. “You heard the Bitten One! I want those sails down before my feet touch the deck, ya grimy bucket of fish bait!” The sailors broke off into a frenzy and I watched amazed as three men began crawling their way up a maze of ropes into the sky without fear or hesitation.
The bread and soft cheese that once filled my belly hit the railing of the ship and splattered across the surface of the water. I watched as it vanished beneath the wake of our mass.
“Mr. Duskfell, do try and keep your insides on the outside of the Wraith, please,” Bormund Flagsbellow called out from the helm as his crew rose up in a hearty laugh.
“But then how could everyone see what I had for supper, Captain?” I spat.
Bormund had not exaggerated; the Wraith seemed to pull across the water and slice through waves as if she were being towed by a hidden sea creature below us. A vicious wind punched into our sails and the whole ship began heeling port side. I yelped and grabbed onto the railing as both the crew and soldiers roared in excitement. The dark, almost black waters of the Shattered Gulf rushed past us and often sprayed us with its waters.
“Ah,” Bormund shouted with glee, “it’s as if the Primal Dragons themselves blow into our sails! It seems even the very wind wants you to arrive at Titan’s Nest as soon as possible, Bitten One.”
“So it does!” Maximus hollered back from the very tip of the bowsprit, his raven hair whipping wildly behind him. The surge of excitement and adventure left him glowing and I could see the joy across his face each time he looked back at the captain. Tenebros, just as fearlessly as his partner, clung to a rope tied to the flying jib above him.
They’re like the same person sometimes, I snickered to myself before I had to cover my mouth and swallow down the bile that once again tried to escape my lips.
Bormund had a crew of thirty-four men upon the Wraith, each more grizzly-looking than the next. They paid me no attention, which I was thankful for, but they would often stop and
stare at Maximus and his armored lizard. They were rough and diligent, and very rarely needed Bormund to give them orders.
On occasion, a jagged shard of glass-like stone, an obsidian glacier, passed by the Wraith.
“And that,” Ollak whispered to me as he joined me at the railing of the ship, “is why they call it the Shattered Gulf. Those jagged devils are easy to spot in the light of day, but at night…” his voice softened, “they are invisible, even to the sharpest eye.”
I watched the black rock that protruded from the water with an anxious glare. “Makes me think we should have braved the Blackfang pass,” I said with a nervous chuckle.
Ollak raised an eyebrow. “These waters have their dangers, there is no doubt. The rocks and maybe even some monsters beneath the waves...” his voice fell into a harsh growl, “but there is no place more fowl than the Blackfang Mountains.”
His caution filled me with fear. Captain Ollak seemed unshakable, a warrior without doubts. To hear the dread in his voice made me question how I ever lived so close to such a terrible place. “But,” Ollak continued, “the Blackfangs and the Shattered Gulf provide an unrivaled protection from the rest of the world, Eclipto has never been invaded by another country. No army can reach us, except maybe Cy’ann from the west.”
I nodded in agreement. We both looked to Maximus carelessly hanging from the front of the ship, Tenebros playfully nipping at him.
“I wish he would be more careful,” Ollak snarled. “You and I both, my lord.”
“What of you, Darren?” Ollak asked. “What will you do once we return?”
I looked out over the water. I hadn’t considered the idea. “I’m not sure. I certainly won’t return to the tavern,” I said sourly. “I’ve never been much of a hunter, and I’ve never been apprenticed in any skills.”
“The army then? As your brother planned?”
The thought made me laugh. “No, no. I’m no warrior. Which I know, that probably comes as a great surprise. With my physique people often assume I’m much like the barbarians of Voltar,” I slammed at my skinny arms. “But, truthfully, I’d be better off jumping into the gulf than learning to fight.”
Ollak stood still for a moment, then looked straight at me. “Anyone can learn to do anything. They just need to quiet that voice in their head that says otherwise.” He pushed off the rail and walked towards a group of soldiers on the other side of the deck.
Night had fallen over the gulf, the soft twinkle of the stars above and the full moon left a turquoise glow over the deck. I stumbled into the captain’s cabin, still struggling to keep my footing. Despite our efforts to refuse, Bormund had given Maximus and I his personal quarters.
“What kind of man would let a Bitten Knight sleep in the belly of his ship like some sort of crumb-nibbling-rat?” Bormund had bellowed.
The cabin was simple yet spacious. A ruby colored rug decorated the floor and two square lanterns, hung from iron hooks above, lit the space well enough for me to read. A large table covered in maps and charters sat at the center of the room, and the largest bed I had ever seen sat against the back. A copper compass and sextant rested upon the maps. The maps, for whatever reason, I found terribly satisfying. Each one, with all their little details, should be revered as a stunning work of art. Each letter, mountain range, stream, and coast line had been illustrated with such care I felt they belonged in a frame upon the wall rather than thrown across the table so carelessly.
Maybe I could work on a ship? I pondered as I dragged my hand across the parchment of the map. The thought of pirates, sea monsters larger than the Bat Belly, storms, venturing into the unknown, quickly flattened that idea. I’d rather spend the rest of my days back in the tavern.
“Can we start? I’ve got to be up early again and I’m gettin’ tired,” Maximus said as he pulled off his boots, and then drank from his tea. Tenebros had found an odd spot upon a high shelf where he had tucked himself in and already fell sound asleep.
“Ah, yes, sorry,” I said, drawing my attention away from the maps and grabbing a bundle of texts Maximus needed to be familiar with before he reached Titan’s Nest. Even when I wasn’t helping Maximus with his studying, I found myself nose deep in the information. I took a special liking to studying the Primal Tongue, whereas Maximus seemed only interested in learning about ancient battles and monsters.
Surprisingly, we both found the book, The Known Creatures of Dazawrath; The Full Encyclopedia, the most fascinating of all the information. It depicted terrible monsters that had been discovered across Dazawrath, where to find them, and even how to kill them, if in fact, the author knew how. Every king or queen in Dazawrath, we learned, had a powerful creature exclusive to their region, as their own servant. King Voidrin, for example, had a monstrous bat-like creature with four wings that he would supposedly ride into battle, if ever need be. Although we never saw it, we were aware of King Voidrin’s creature. We often heard terrible high-pitched shrieks late at night over Hunt's Burrow, and Father claimed it would sweep down and carry usaway if we ever misbehaved. I shivered recalling the ghastly noise. We had no idea, however, that each kingdom possessed such a monster.
“I heard Voidrin found the monster deep in the Blackfangs,” Maximus spoke softly. “Barry Gulmerg said he saw it once in the dead of night. He claimed it blacked out the moon and it was bigger than a dragon.”
“Barry also claims he’s big boned,” I shrugged as I flipped the page. “But the lad’s just plump.”
In the same book I saw a list of creatures that lived in, or around, the Shattered Gulf.
Knowing Maximus would want to know of every fowl creature that swam beneath us at that very moment, I purposely changed the subject hoping to stay ignorant to what wandered the darkness.
“Ehm, let’s move on from monsters, we need to catch you up on other subjects.” “But the other subjects are so terribly boring,” Maximus groaned as he flopped backwards on to the bed behind him.
“Right, and you can study creatures of the night on your own. I need to help you read things that you won’t ever touch without me,” I said as I cleared my throat. “Ah, like this, Second Era History of Dazawrath.” Maximus groaned in frustration and covered his eyes with his open palms. I continued despite his protest, “The Verdourin Rebellion,” I read, “this sounds good.”
I read out loud but I could tell Maximus was hardly following along, and soon, I buzzed through the pages silently in my head.
“Maximus,” I announced an hour or so later. “You have to see this.” “What?” He groaned half asleep.
“The Verdourin Rebellion is...“Is what?” he said, obviously uninterested.
I paused, nearly afraid to say the words. He put his head back down and began to drift back to sleep, the ship rocked and lanterns swayed back and forth, shifting the shadows.
“The Six Kingdoms save us,” I muttered. “Maximus!” I snapped.
Maximus’ eyes shot open and he sat up, raising his fist as if to defend himself. Even Tenebros seemed to understand my terror for he too uncurled from his hiding spot to look. I flipped the book around and showed him an ancient illustration.
“Bat dung, Darren. You startled me,” he rolled his eyes, squinted, then looked at the picture to humor me.
The drawing displayed men and women worshiping the skeleton of a Verdour. At their feet laid a warrior, beaten and bloodied. Beside him coiled a small dragon. Upon the beaten warrior’s arm was a bite mark. The worshippers around him held knives above their heads … each one of them wore a white mask with a red X across their faces.
“The mask,” Maximus whispered and again the ship rocked heavily and the lanterns seemed to flicker. Tenebros swooped down and landed in his partner's lap to get a closer look. “The people in the mask, they are…”
“They’re sacrificing the Bitten Knight,” I finished for him as he began to stutter. “Wait, Verdourin Rebellion? Verdourin, like, Verdour? Like the dragons?”
“So you have been listening?” I said with a quick smirk. “Yes, the Verdourin, the people in the masks, worshiped the Verdour. It says here, in the Second Age, after the Bitten Knights built Titan’s Nest, they led a rebellion against them. They believe the Verdour to be gods, and therefore were wrongfully slain by King Dazawrath.”“Okay?” Maximus said, trying to recall all he had learned. “So what’s their goal, why are they back? Darren?” I could feel the color fade from my face and my stomach felt empty, almost queasy. “Darren?”
“The Verdourin,” I said cautiously, “believe the Bitten Knights and their dragons contain the soul, or power, or something, of the Primal Dragons. They believe if they execute the Bitten Knights in an ancient ritual, it will bring the Verdour back to life. The Verdour will then destroy all living things on Dazawrath, and a new age, ‘one un-poisoned by the tyrannical rule of the Bitten Knights will begin,” after I read that last quote from the page we sat in silence for a moment.
“They want to kill the Bitten Knights. Who could stand against the Knights and their dragons?” Maximus said with a snark, but I noticed he held Tenebros a little tighter than usual. “Do you remember when Thunderforge flew over Eclipto and wiped out an entire Hive with a single attack?” He snickered again.
“I’ll never forget,” I said softly, my body tensing as I remembered the unexplainable power Thunderforge had displayed that night.
“And a few of these masked lunatics think they could stand against even one fully realized Bitten Knight? It's madness,” he said, almost becoming angry. I agreed with him.
“Why would they attack the ceremony then?” I asked. “Were they trying to ensure that no one else was Bitten? But they need Bitten Knights to fulfill their own ceremony, so wouldn’t they want you to get bitten?” I scratched at my curly hair and pondered over my own questions.
