Chapter 32

Day 119:

“Land ho!” The cry from one of the Far-eyed crew drew every eye on the ship.

A hand pointed off into the distance, at a slight angle from their course. Judging carefully, Svend adjusted to head directly for the distant shore. Their sister ship, with Kort’s prime lieutenant Aric at the helm, mimicked their move. The two ships had been at sea for most of the last month, and John was itching for some action. Or even just a break in the monotony.

At first it had been interesting. John didn’t know much about boating, other than that it meant riding in a ‘big wooden tub that keeps you from drowning’ using ‘the big tarp thing to move’. Even Ellis had laughed at his lack of knowledge.

“Hey, I was on the sky-diving, mountain-climbing and jungle-trekking side. You want a boat expert, go talk to a SEAL.” John had retorted.

It turned out his ignorance included how many people crewed each vessel. The Final Harbor Raiders had a total of four ships, and were in the process of (slowly) building a fifth. He’d been figuring a crew of twenty-five or so per, which wasn’t too bad. But the Raids were extremely hard on the ships’ ... well, everything, including the keels. Their winters were spent repairing the damage incurred during the season, then a seaworthiness test in the spring to determine which ones were in the best shape. The others would remain behind, crewed by slaves (with a few guards and older, retired Raiders) and used for local fishing.

The previous King, Esbyon was known for his maritime construction skill, so all four (according to Raiders who’d spent time in other raid-groups) wore down more slowly than normal. Though the man was dead, several townspeople had learned enough from him to continue maintaining their city’s ships to a high standard. Word of the impending Raid had spread to the outlying farms and homesteads, resulting in a total of one hundred and twenty-two Raiders mustering for the launch. This number included the thirty-one Watchmen (including John, Sygraid and Treb), plus the fourteen men who’d once reported to Svend, but now answered to John. The crews also included fifty male slaves, who were chained and slept below deck. The Raiders used these men without mercy, to row when the winds weren’t favorable. A normal ship’s compliment was twenty rowers, ten to a side, with a handful of extras for when the slaves inevitably died. It was a miserable, degrading existence; one John abhorred, but couldn’t do anything about.

Yet.

Ellis also pointed something out that had completely escaped John’s notice in the three months he’d been on First World.

“No moon.” Ellis had remarked one evening, as they contemplated the funeral stone.

John was still trying to figure out a way for Ellis to periodically jump back to Earth without needing John’s hand-holding to return. The Network, unfortunately had been implacable.

As you have not completed any prerequisites, only the return to your home world is available to [Visitors].

They’d tried several different angles, but couldn’t get any further information on what would allow Ellis access to the portal, unescorted, from Earth. They assumed it was a completed Challenge that activated the option to be a Traveler.

“What?” John blinked.

“No moon.” Ellis repeated. “No tides!”

John’s eyes slowly tracked up to the heavens. “I never even noticed!”

“Really? Are you blind? What have you been doing for the last few months?” Ellis sputtered.

John protested immediately. “Mostly either living under ground, or cloud cover. Give me a break!”

“Whatever you say, Stevie Wonder. Anyway, no tides means less current, in the water.” Ellis explained. “So the predominant wind is going to be more important. Plus, no tides means no change in depth during the day.”

“Got it, I’ll keep that in mind.” John promised, kicking himself for missing something so obvious.

The night before the raid-group departed kicked off with the stay-behind lottery. Though the town was geographically remote, which protected it somewhat, the Raiders always left one-fifth of their number to secure the town. That meant twenty-four men stayed back, not counting Rorik and Ellis. Due to the burgeoning relationship between the Watchmen and the Raiders, none of the newcomers were considered for the lottery. Neither were the fourteen now under John’s watchful eye (“pun intended,” Ellis quipped). Many of the men selected to remain in town were disappointed, as the raid-group was larger than any previous season in living memory.

In order to entice those men to report again the following year, Kort decreed that the fifteen men undergoing punishment would have what would’ve been their share of the loot given directly to those staying back. In addition, though the Watchmen were not Raiders as yet, their skill at arms was unquestioned. So, instead of receiving a half share, equivalent to what a non-blooded Raider would earn on his first Raid, the Watchmen would be eligible for a full share, minus a tithe of their proceeds which the King would also pass on to the men not Raiding. Should the Raid be even moderately successful, this guaranteed a handsome reward, just for standing watches and patrolling the outskirts.

A group of thirty women, some newcomers but mostly the more aggressive among the townspeople, had seen that Sygraid was being allowed to Raid. They had approached the King during the party that followed the lottery, agitating for a chance to join as well.

“We haven’t even set sail yet, and already you’re causing me problems!” Kort scolded John, who’d been nearby after Sygraid told him about the group.

“Problems?” John affected innocence. “Looks to me like I just got you thirty more Raiders.”

“They are not Raiders!” This time the King was utterly serious.

“But,” he continued, speaking over the women’s disappointed cries, “if you shall report diligently to the guard captain for training. And if you do well, without complaint, both in fighting skills and in whatever other tasks he sets you, when we return I shall consider suggestions for how you might join us. The Raid is hard, though. Much harder than life here. If you are to join one, you will be under the same rules as any Raider.”

From their faces, John judged maybe half would actually take the King up on his offer. And from what the King told Knyut (the rear guard’s elected captain), those who did were in for a rough hazing. John told Sygraid as much, afterward and suggested she talk with the women to give them an idea of what they were in for.

She gave him an odd look when he mentioned it. “None of those women will ever go on a Raid.”

“Think not?” John asked.

“They are not Nords,” she’d dismissed, “and not one will last a month anyway. Knyut was the last King’s son. He views all women as nothing but chattel. His abuse will drive them away more surely than anything you or I could do to them.”

John’s eyebrows shot up. “You don’t like him? Do you think he’ll cause us problems?”

The Shield-maiden’s eyes were hard. “I do think he will cause my husband many problems. Rorik says he has a plan to deal with him, so I will trust in that. And no, I do not like him. Were I not under your orders to avoid killing the Raiders at all costs, he would already be dead.”

John relayed the concern to Ellis, later.

“I’ll keep an eye on him.” The retired Sergeant Major’s tone sent shivers down John’s spine.

They sailed for almost a week before reaching the Eastern Anchorage. It wasn’t actually the easternmost Raider city, but it was certainly the most prosperous outside of Joryndarfil, the Raider Kingdom closest to Two Courts. It sat at the midway point between the Raider coast and the first major island chain in the Bay of Chaos. Built on a former volcanic island, the harbor itself was protected by a reef that the other raid-groups had to pay for passage through.

“Why don’t you just memorize the route?” John asked Kort later, as they walked through an outdoor, beachfront market teeming with Raiders from all across the North.

The King just shook his head and nodded at a Dvergyr walking by.

“There’s a dwarf clan living in the mountain.” He pointed at the obsidian cone that dominated the landscape. “They periodically dump rocks on the old path, and dredge out a new one. I may not be an Explorer, but even I can recognize when I’m sailing a different course.”

John stared at the Dvergyr’s back. “The Raiders here are dwarves?”

“Oh no!” Kort and the other lieutenants laughed. “They wouldn’t be caught dead on a ship! They make the Raider fleet do all the work, just like everything else here.”

“Could you explain that?” John invited. “I can’t see you guys putting up with that for a second.”

The King shrugged. “Us? No, we would not. Not ever. But the raid-group here is not like those of us who live to the north. As you can feel, it is much warmer here.”

John looked at Treb and Modi for confirmation.

Svend’s former lieutenant, Modi nodded his agreement. “We are south of even Two Courts here. It is very warm, for us.”

Kort held up a hand, stopping the group. They’d been wandering the Anchorage marketplace, looking for deals and generally keeping an eye on their Raiders. The King was charged a fine for every man who broke the town’s peace. This being his first season, Kort was fanatical about earning a good reputation. So they patrolled, with John’s ‘convict’ squad doing the dirty work of snatching drunk or belligerent Raiders and hustling them off to the ships.

“How is it that you do not know how warm it is?” The King stared at John.

John grinned. “I told you, I’m completely immune to cold of any kind.”

Kort spoke slowly. “I presumed you meant that you were not vulnerable to being hurt by the cold. Do you mean that you do not feel it at all?”

“Feels like a perfect day, all day, every day.” John’s grin got even wider. “Even when swimming.”

The King stroked his beard. “I wondered, when you told me, why you would chose such a thing when your Shield-maiden’s Adept spells proved so powerful. Now I see, to you walking from the End to Final Harbor was what walking across that beach would be to me. Your men tell many stories of your fighting skills. They say that you killed two giants for every one that the others took down. I did not know how any man could do so, I thought them boasting.”

“Well, they do tend to exaggerate, just a little.” John deflected. “But you were saying that the Dvergyr clan actually runs this place?”

Kort let him change the subject, giving a short dissertation on the politics in Eastern Anchorage.

“No one knows how or why the Dvergyr clan first arrived at Anchorage Rock. The clan has traded weapons and supplies to raid-groups for treasure stolen elsewhere in the Bay, for hundreds of years. These days, and it has been so since my own first time, Raiders who desert their raid-group, or who no longer wish to endure the North’s cold winters may settle here. A few will join Raids with groups they know, when the ships stop here to resupply or sell their loot. Many others will hire on with the fleet, which they call the Sea Guard. The Guards currently have five ships, I saw as we entered. And only one is permitted to go Raid at any time. The rest patrol the waters around this island.”

“No King?” John asked.

“They do, of sorts.” Kort confirmed. “But he is not chosen by a Raiders’ Conclave. The Dvergyr elders select the Sea Guard/fleet master from among those men they trust. It is he who they call the ‘Master’. And his only power is on the Raider ships, which are dependent upon the clan’s regular payments.”

“How many Raiders are there, in the fleet? Four hundred? Five?” John guessed.

“Around five hundred, I heard last season.” Kort confirmed.

“And how many Dvergyr?”

The King’s smile was sly. “You wonder if there are enough dwarves to keep their hold, with so many Raiders working for them who have no loyalty to the clan.”

“Something like that.”

The King pointed at the citadel built halfway up the mountainside. “They built that fortress, most of which is underground. Not five hundred, nor even five thousand blooded Raiders could drive the clan from that place.”

Later, before they departed for the islands to the south, Kort called for a meeting with his lieutenants. He set up a low table on the deck, near the tiller, while the crew readied the ship for sail.

Their command group consisted of the following:

Kort, the King.

Aric, who the King designated as his second-in-command, and who led the Watchmen assigned to his boat, in addition to being the Captain for that vessel.

Sygraid, who led the Watchmen contingent on Kort’s ship.

John, who led Svend’s former men, now. They were assigned to Kort’s ship. Hal had been added as his second, still in his Raider guise. He now openly admitted to John’s friendship, and given his other ‘talents’, Kort wanted the Cambion under a leader who could ‘properly utilize’ those skills.

Svend himself, as pilot, was the only person who didn’t exercise authority over any of the raid-group’s squads. He still eyed Sygraid, or John, or Treb whenever he thought John wasn’t looking. Rather high up on John’s list of rules right now was ‘don’t turn your back on Svend’.

Tait, the only other Raider still visibly nursing a grudge against John, had the smallest unit, with ten men. Kort made sure to assign him to Aric’s ship. John warned Aric’s Watchmen to look out for each other, keeping Tait from finding them easy targets.

Mar, who’d made a real effort to befriend John, Sygraid and Treb. He often talked with the boy as they worked, showing him how to crew the ship properly while interrogating him about the Ice Crag. His squad was the largest, not counting Skyald’s force.

Enar, who’d probably taken the worst damage of any in the Grand Melee, including several broken ribs, was now a staunch supporter of the Watchmen. Probably because Rorik applied Impyruum’s healing power to Enar’s side during the celebration that night. The man was taciturn at his friendliest, but his men were always quick to help any of the Watchmen on Aric’s ship (where they were assigned as well) who needed it.

Skyald was the final squad leader. His men were a mixture of Kort’s best, with a few other all-stars thrown in from each section. It was unspoken, but everybody knew his crew would take the most difficult fights. The man was an Evolved Warrior, John later learned; who probably would’ve won the Grand Melee easily, if he’d had any interest in politics at all. John also found out that Skyald was the one who’d killed Yatho during the fight at the frozen hill, and would’ve done worse had he not been busy saving Kort from the Watchmen’s spears. His men were split between the ships, with those drawn from different squad now crew on the opposite boat from their former teammates.

The King spread out a detailed map of the Bay, pointing out major landmarks as they discussed their intended route and targets. The total water area was a giant oval, as wide as the Atlantic Ocean, but only as long as from Scotland to Uruguay. In the east, the map showed a line of mountains, stretching from the coast north of Final Harbor and reconnecting with the continent far to the south. Necropolis was marked, a good distance up the southern coast from where the mountains intersected the shore. Below that was just ‘jungle’, with few specifics, then ‘mountains’ with even less.

There were several major island chains in the Bay. Like the five pips on a dice face, the five largest groupings formed an ‘X’ which took up the center third of the sea. Svend estimated that it would take twenty to thirty days to sail around from one side of the ‘X’ to the other, assuming strong winds and few detours around individual islands. Before their return trip, the Raiders would need to careen the ships or risk being run down by anti-Raider Mer-folk or Islander navies. Each of the four clusters making up the ‘corners’ was a different shape. The northwest chain was called Carfair Ait, an oval-ish grouping of smaller rocky formations around a much larger, pac-man-shaped fertile one. A large city sat at the head of the harbor there, with the name Merward Enclave. On the northeast side was a broad arc of less hospitable reefs, jagged spires and sandy dots which tapered into a long tail, labeled ‘Shipwreck Graveyard’. To the southwest was a hook-shaped island chain called the Harmonious Archipelago. Four different cities were identified there, all reportedly of great size. The more knowledgeable Raiders stated that while each port was a separate polity, they were all partners in a mutual-defense arrangement which made Raiding there nigh impossible. The final ‘corner,’ to the southeast was an atoll with a semi-circle of volcanic islands protecting its west side. The map listed it as the Merfell Refuge.

The center of the ‘X’ was a thick ring of long, narrow islands whose shape reminded John of rose petals when in full bloom. Ports dotted the perimeter of the Ty’cana Islands on all sides. More than fifteen major cities, each with a small navy of its own protected the waters in and around this band. The harbors bore names like ‘Abyss Cay’, ‘Paradise Haven’ and ‘Withered Refuge’. The only section without any civilization at all was a narrow, meandering cut bisecting the ring, where the Shipwreck Graveyard extended to intersect the Ty’cana Islands. This stretch of deep water was titled ‘Channel of Charybdis’. The Raiders all agreed that this was the fastest way into the open sea inside the Islands’ ring, if not the safest.

The plan was to take this route at the end of their Raid, because right in the exact center, of both the Ty’cana Islands and the whole Bay of Chaos generally, stood the Cyclone Tower. Typhon’s Lair was reportedly a giant, elongated, hourglass-shaped column of basalt wrapped in a never-ending vortex of water. The landless expanse between the innermost Ty’cana Islands and the Tower itself was protected by four great Denizens of the Deep: Jormungandr, the Kraken, the Hydra, and Leviathan. Only the Raiders who had attempted a Challenge could claim to have laid eyes on even one of the monsters guarding that approach.

“I saw the Kraken on my run, near the Landing.” Skyald claimed. “Enormous eyes, on stalks like a flower, sticking up out of the water. Its shell is thicker and stronger than any hull could hope to be. The beast has four arms, each with a claw half the size of this ship. I watched it hold the ship ahead of us in place with two of those massive pincers, then use a third to tear the vessel in half. It was so busy shoving pieces of wood and people into its mouth that we sailed by without incident.”