Blood, Faith, and Steel Page 5

  “Baleful Unholy — I didn’t know we were hauling a blessed relic of old. A Blade of Legend, aboard my very ship? I’ll not —”

  Things were going so well. We’d managed to inform him diplomatically, and he was seeing things our way. Then a bowstring twanged, followed by a halfling’s tormented scream. Behind us, in the center of the ship, lay a halfling sailor, pinned to the deck with Lelliani’s special barbed arrow.

  I tried very hard not to utter obscenities.

  “What’s the meaning of this?” Dristake asked as he drew his sword from the folds of his blue cloak.

  Lelliani yelled. “That little maggot’s thrown something overboard. Some kind of sparkly balls.”

  Dristake stepped toward me and jabbed a finger in my stomach, his sword ready to strike. “You attack a member of my crew and —”

  The waves around the ship erupted, and the ship lurched to one side. I pitched to the deck as Celiann somehow stayed upon her feet, the Golden Sword aglow in her hands.

  Circular, human-sized spheres of black water splattered onto the deck and became seven frog-like creatures. They stood upon slimy, webbed feet with blubbery legs, and were nearly man-sized. Vicious teeth chomped repeatedly, and four black claws were upon each of their two web-like hands.

  We’d fought these before; they were troglodytes.

  Birch roared, and his great sword sung from its sheath. But he was not fast enough. One of the creatures scored a claw strike that penetrated his hide armor. Droplets of Birch’s blood dripped from the troglodyte’s claw.

  Celiann leaped from the foredeck and into the fray. Before I followed, I turned to Captain Dristake. “Keep your crew away. We’ll handle this.”

  “We’ll help,” Mastik said.

  “No!” I said as loud as I could. “You don’t understand! Birch is a barbarian, and he hates troglodytes.” As if in agreement, Birch roared behind me. “Please Captain, if your crew gets too close, he’ll shred them like cheese after he’s done with the troglodytes.”

  “There’s seven of them!” Mastik said, “It takes our entire crew to quell half that number.”

  “They should’ve brought twenty-seven,” I said. “Watch and learn the power of a battle-enraged half-orc.”

  I made it to the main deck about the time Birch decapitated the first troglodyte. Birch’s massive sword swiped clean through a forearm and cleaved right through its head. The oval-scaled noggin squished onto the deck, slid through two rails, and dropped into the sea.

  Their torrid stench apparently did not bother Birch.

  Two arrows whizzed through the chest of another troglodyte. I heard a joyful “Yippee!” as Lelliani shot another arrow into the lecherous monster.

  Four purple missiles thudded into the arrow-riddled troglodyte. The monster twirled around once and collapsed to the ground, its long, forked tongue caged between wicked yellowed teeth.

  Celiann deflected a claw with her shield and then whisked the appendage off with the Golden Sword. The blade cut through the scaled hide as if it were parchment. Another troglodyte attempted to flank her, only to find itself hamstrung by Elanor’s short sword. My sweetie had appeared from nowhere, and as soon as she struck, she cart-wheeled behind another creature. At the same time, Celiann swung her blade, but the troglodyte maneuvered inside her swing and grabbed her forearm. Elanor sprung from behind with a dagger and slit its blubbery neck. Black blood soaked its green torso as the creature collapsed lifeless to the deck.

  Birch swatted aside several claws, though he suffered a nasty gash to his forearm. The half-orc ignored the pain as he elbowed a troglodyte’s maw, and then followed through to slice the creature from neck to groin. The creature staggered as an arrow punctured its eye socket. It finally collapsed to the deck.

  Birch bowled over a still-standing troglodyte and rammed his shoulder into the one behind it. The creature clawed recklessly as it attempted to hold its ground. It may as well have been a fly; the enraged barbarian didn’t even feel the blows. Birch used his meaty forearm to shove the creature back. He drew his sword high above his head and swung downward. Its clawed hands grabbed the barbarian’s wrists and tried to stop the blade, but on impact its elbows snapped, and bones tore through its skin. It screeched in agony until Birch’s mighty sword split it in half from head to scaled waist. Birch ripped the sword clear, twirled the blade around, and stabbed backward. The troglodyte behind him stood up just in time to inhale the sword into its belly. Birch yanked it out, turned and splattered the skull of the creature with the pommel of his blade. Birch roared and turned toward the remaining two troglodytes.

  An enraged Birch was a frightening experience. He was a battle machine, impervious to all but the mightiest of blows. The problem occurred when all the enemies were dead. Birch usually had enough control to stop from attacking those he knew well. For everyone else, not so much. Terrible visions of splattered halflings flashed through my head.

  Instead of assisting Birch by trying to stun the remaining troglodytes, I hoped they would last long enough to allow Birch’s rage to subside. That and I found myself leaning over the deck, losing the contents of my stomach. Berythal guide me, one could never get used to the fetid smell of troglodytes.

  Lelliani, of course, had no such hesitations of Birch remaining enraged. Two arrows sprouted from the side of a troglodyte, just as four more purple missiles from Mina thudded into the other. Both gurgled in terror as Birch swung his sword. The blade tore through one troglodyte’s side and stuck there, just as two more arrows punctured its neck, killing it. Birch released the sword, clapped his hands over the round, blubbery face of the other troglodyte and ripped its head from its body.

  Birch squeezed the head, turned, and hurled its head into the ocean.

  “Captain Dristake, get your crew away!” I yelled.

  The halflings stood gaping at the carnage, many with green-tinged skin from being sick. The deck cleaners looked sad, for their once-clean flooring was covered in blood and random troglodyte parts. If Birch turned his attention to them…

  Birch bellowed as he picked up his sword, and then his rage-soaked eyes looked for the nearest person.

  Celiann was the closest target.

  He charged her and reared back his sword. My breath caught in my throat, fearing for her life, but Celiann didn’t back down. She stepped forward, caught the huge blade on her shield and, to my surprise, shoved Birch back. The Golden Blade blurred forth, and suddenly rested upon Birch’s neck.

  “Shiata Goushe!” Celiann yelled.

  Bright light erupted from the Golden Sword and bathed the half-orc in its glow. A low growl emitted from Birch. His body began to shiver as the Golden Sword grew brighter. After a few moments, the half-orc dropped to his knees, great sword clattering to the deck.

  The deck fell silent for a long moment, the exception being Captain Dristake. He stepped around the black ichor stains upon Windsoaker’s deck and kicked the severed hand of a troglodyte over the side of the rail. “What’s the meaning of this? I allowed the lot of you passage aboard my ship and this is how I’m repaid?” Dristake craned his head toward the main mast and yelled, “Eyes up the perch!”

  A halfling tossed aside his sword and clambered up the ropes. Dristake bellowed. “Get those scaled carcasses off my deck! Raise the sails! To your posts, or I’ll lash the hides off your feet!” He pointed at us. “Explain yourselves! You’ve fired on a member of my crew. I should throw you overboard and feed you to the sharks.”

  I looked over the side of the ship. Long, dark shadows swirled underneath the surface of the water, multiple fins emerging then disappearing. There was little doubt they feasted upon the dead troglodyte bodies that slid from the deck back into the water.

  Celiann turned toward Dristake, the Golden Sword humming in her hand. “We’ve vanquished these cretins from your deck and defended your ship. You’re working for the Omega Brotherhood and you dare threaten us?” The Golden Sword pointed to the halfling that was still skewered to the
deck, her grey eyes never leaving Captain Dristake. “There. A servant of the Omega Brotherhood. Who do you serve, Captain?”

  The Golden Sword made her a symbol of authority upon that deck. The halflings’ eyes were upon the Golden Sword. The ones near Celiann stepped back, and a few even dropped to a knee. She terrified them.

  Captain Dristake appeared unfazed. Nor did he look the least bit intimidated. He yelled, “To your posts, fools! There could be a whole tribe of troglodytes underneath my ship. By my mother’s left ear, move it or I’ll toss the lot of you overboard!”

  Every halfling aboard the ship went to work, save Mina and the one Lelliani had pinned to the deck.

  The Captain huffed as he walked over to the halfling skewered upon the deck. He bent over and examined the wound, and then laid a reassuring hand upon the injured halfling’s shoulder. His voice quickly became kind and considerate. “Kalsten, stay still now.”

  Kalsten nodded.

  “Who’re you working for? No lies. I’ll know it.” Dristake said.

  Kalsten’s pale face scrunched. Sweat covered his face, and his hands shook. “I work for you. That crazy elf shot me for n-no reason.”

  Lelliani jumped from the higher deck and landed several feet from us. “Bugbear ears! You dropped colored balls in the water and mumbled some funny words.”

  Ah, such a complex explanation from the bloodthirsty half-elf.

  Dristake glared at Lelliani. “For that you tried to kill him? It could’ve been a prayer, an offering to the sea gods.”

  Lelliani ignored that comment. I swallowed and hoped she had not decided to gut the Captain, too. She walked over and knelt beside the injured halfling. Her finger touched the arrow head, half-buried in the deck. Kalsten screamed, but she simply covered his mouth with her hand as she met Dristake’s hard glare. “It’s called a woodborer. I meant to pin him to the deck. If I’d wanted to kill him, he’d be dead.”

  Dristake stared at her. “Thunder and wind! Get away from him. You’ve done enough.”

  She did, but not before pinching the cheek of the injured halfling. “I’ll be watching you.”

  Kalsten screamed. “G-get her away. P-please.”

  Lelliani backed away. There was a slight smile on her face, one that made me shiver. I’d never seen a woman so happy to spill blood. How had I ever let her beauty fool me so? Thank Berythal, I never got on her bad side. Well, not that far, anyway.

  Dristake grabbed the arrow shaft, but Lelliani knelt once more beside him. “Better let me pull that out of him. You’ll have to cut off his leg if you mishandle it.”

  Dristake started to argue, but Lelliani was already moving. She snapped the arrow just above where it impaled the leg. Then she gripped Kalsten by his shoulders and pulled him off the arrow. The halfling wailed as she yanked him free and dropped him to the ichor-stained deck.

  “Kraken’s maw, woman! You could’ve killed him,” Dristake said.

  Lelliani pulled the woodborer arrow out of the deck. “Okay, I’m happy. I’ve got my arrow head back.” She climbed back to her perch, every terrified halfling eye upon her.

  Berythal guide me. What had I ever seen in the woman?

  Elanor appeared next to me. She grabbed my hand and squeezed, and I suddenly felt much better.

  Dristake eyed Elanor. “Locksmith, is it?” He pointed at Kalsten. “This one needs a bit of skill to open. I assume you can handle it?”

  Elanor had two smiles: one sweet, the other frightening. She used the latter.

  “Of course. I’ll need to get my tools. Oh, and I’ll need a room, somewhere the screaming won’t be a bother. Some locks can be awfully noisy.”

  Kalsten pleaded. “No! I didn’t, I…”

  Dristake pointed to a few of the burlier halflings. “Drag him below deck. Chain him up; give the locksmith any assistance she needs.”

  Elanor twirled one of her curved daggers in her hand as she knelt beside Kalsten. “This is my favorite tool. Lelliani, would you like to assist?”

  “Oh, goody! Can I use the knife with the serrated edge?”

  Kalsten shrieked. “I’ll talk! Please! Wh-when I loaded the ruined box, a human gave me a bag of gems, p-promised me twice as many to make sure the cargo wasn’t — ahh!”

  Dristake kicked Kalsten’s injured leg. “Work for me, do you?”

  The injured halfling cried out and doubled into a ball.

  Elanor knelt beside Kalsten. She tapped his injured leg with her knife. The point of her blade hovered near the entry point of the wound. “And if the cargo was tampered with?”

  Kalsten bawled louder. “Don’t c-cut me! They gave me r-round orbs. A red gem as long as my finger. Told me to toss them in the water, say some words I didn’t understand.” Tears rolled from Kalsten’s eyes. “I-I didn’t know they would bring troglodytes. Captain, I didn’t think they would —”

  “Can I shoot him again?” Lelliani asked.

  Dristake glowered at her.

  Lelliani shrugged. “Just asking.”

  Dristake barked orders. “Guards, search the traitor for any more tricks, find those gems. Brady, if they find any, will you and Mina inspect them, make certain they aren’t dangerous?”

  “Of course,” I said.

  He nodded. “Take him out of my sight. Two guards on him, round the clock.”

  “Would you like me to heal him first?” I asked.

  “No. We take care of our own,” Dristake said.

  Another halfling appeared, wearing robes. I’d not seen this halfling the entire journey, and not once had I detected another caster aboard. From the folds of his blue robes he withdrew a doughy substance and began to knead it. After a few moments, I smelled cinnamon. The halfling covered the top of the wound with the dough. Then he rubbed it briskly. Kalsten whimpered, and then passed out.

  The substance glistened white, and then rose like dough in an oven. The smell of baking bread filled my nostrils, though it disturbed me that such a wonderful smell came from the wound. When the halfling mumbled a few words, the blood flow stopped. He removed what appeared to be freshly baked bread from the wound. Only a fine scar remained upon the leg.

  “You had a healer aboard this entire time,” I said.

  Dristake nodded. “You needed to earn your keep. Galst here is also our cook.”

  I had heard halflings used food to heal and always thought it a wives’ tale. It disturbed me that it was true.

  “If you and Lady Celiann will join me in my quarters, we’ll discuss this rather unfortunate matter,” Dristake said.

  “Once I see to my friends,” I said.

  Dristake grunted in what I assumed was agreement and walked away, bellowing orders as he went.

  I found Birch leaning against a large barrel. Blood pooled under him, but he didn’t seem to notice. He appeared to be asleep, though his eyes opened as I approached.

  “Birch tired,” he said.

  Claw marks covered his body. One nasty gash from a bite bled on his side. I channeled positive energy granted to me by Berythal and closed the most grievous of his wounds. His other wounds were superficial, but to be certain I applied healer’s salve made from tree roots. As I worked, I still smelled the cinnamon.

  Sigh. I’d never be able to look at fresh-baked bread the same way.

  “You smell like a troglodyte. It’s an improvement,” I said.

  “Least Birch don’t have lips like trog.”

  I grinned. Birch giving me a hard time meant he was going to be all right.

  Elanor, Mina, and Lelliani hadn’t been harmed. That left Celiann. “Let me tend your wounds,” I said.

  “I’m fine.” A soft, white light surrounded her, and the few wounds she had suffered disappeared.

  She did not sheathe the Golden Sword. Instead, she held it in front of her. For a moment her eyes became the same color as the blade. The black ichor that covered it erupted in white fire until any stain upon it was gone. Only after the sword was clean did Celiann’s eyes return to their no
rmal shade of grey.

  She staggered, though I managed to catch her arm and keep her upright. Color drained from her face.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “The sword, it’s magnificent. I felt attuned to the world, could feel every drop of water upon me, the mist in the air. The ancient magic — I’m not certain it accepts me.”

  “You must use the sword. At least until we can figure out what we must do.”

  She nodded. “I know.” Celiann sat down on a top of a barrel, and her shoulders slumped. “I wish my brother were here.”

  “You must miss him.”

  Celiann grimaced. “To be honest, he annoys me. I like him better when he’s not around. Yet his knowledge of Ancient Elven Lore far surpasses my own.”

  The Golden Sword hummed in her hands then was silent. Moments later, a flash of light drew all eyes to the middle of the ship.

  A lone elf stood in green and yellow robes, a bewildered look upon his face. He had gray eyes and long, golden hair, along with the angular features of the Elven race. His ageless face looked tired, and his two hands leaned heavily on his six foot long quarterstaff.

  Celiann grabbed my forearm. “It can’t be. How —”

  Halflings yelled and screamed, some ducking for cover, others brandishing their swords. Mastik, the guard Celiann spoke to before the battle, passed out and collapsed to the deck.

  “Brother?”

  Berythal guide me. She hadn’t been lying.

  “Celiann, thank goodness,” he said, and they embraced.

  Had the gods dropped him upon our ship? Or has it been the Golden Sword?

  Captain Dristake stepped out of his office. His eyes settled on the newcomer. “One of yours?”

  “Apparently,” I said.

  “Blast! First the Golden Sword, then troglodytes, now it rains elves! Torrents of hurricanes!” He turned and slammed the door behind him. The halfling crew muttered prayers and swore under their breaths as they went back to work.

  The elves spoke quietly to one another for a few minutes. Mina approached and pulled my arm. I knelt to listen. “Her brother’s a wizard. Elven wizards think they’re superior to sorcerers.”