Chapter 31
A Dread Tide Rising by Walt Shuler
Monday, again? Looks like it is. Whether you’re dealing with snow and ice or fascism and ICE, there’s a new chapter of ADTR to help you make it through.
Previously: Kye and Molly began their journey to Astra and some guidance for Kye as she comes into her power.
Currently: Mac, Gorm, and Wynne head toward their meeting with Lord Eric Arbassis.
A Dread Tide Rising is a serialized, pulp-flavored, epic fantasy novel that follows the Talon, a group of mercenaries, thieves, and smugglers, as they come face-to-face with an ancient enemy intent on the destruction of the Rakkian Empire.
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Chapter 31
A loose line cracked like a whip in the wind.
“Gorm! What are you doing?” Mac asked, narrowly avoiding the line and possible injury.
Gorm stood nearby, eyes unfocused as he stared westward, watching Sparrowhawk’s wake. Mac snapped his fingers in front of the big man’s face, and Gorm’s eyes quickly refocused as he returned to the present. He took in the whipping line and Mac’s furrowed brow, instantly understanding what had happened.
“Sorry, Mac,” he apologized, hurrying to secure the line.
Mac watched his companion quickly grasp the line and tie it off. Gorm was normally the most observant of the Talon. Few things escaped his attention, but the big man was different now, distracted. That was fine on land, but a lack of attention on the sea could have deadly consequences.
“What’s eating you?” Mac asked.
Gorm raised an eyebrow. “That obvious, is it?”
Mac gestured to the line, now tied off and safe. “That’s not the first little thing that’s slipped since we left Rakka. What’s on your mind?”
Gorm shrugged. It was an eloquent gesture for such a burly frame and communicated volumes, particularly to someone who had known Gorm for many years. Someone like Mac.
“You miss her,” Mac said.
Gorm nodded. “I do. When we set sail to find you, she and Mattie kept the place lively. Since then, she’s become…” Gorm trailed off.
“Part of the Talon,” Mac finished for him.
“’Course, but there’s more to it than that. She leaves a hole behind her.”
Mac nodded but silently wondered if that hole was partially caused by other absences. Hax and Pax had both been central parts of the Talon for more than a little while. He glanced toward the bow, where Callan and Padraig’s two new sailors, Arren and Pas, worked to keep Sparrowhawk on course. One tall, one short, one dark, one pale, the newcomers knew their roles and filled them well. It was impossible to tell if they were human or shapeshifters, so the Talon gave them a wide berth and went to great lengths not to discuss anything too sensitive within earshot. That was easier said than done on a ship the size of Sparrowhawk, so they took advantage of moments like this when there was little danger of being overheard.
“She’s fine,” Mac told Gorm, not using Kye’s name on the chance that the wind might carry it to an unfriendly ear. “And I’m sure Hax and Pax are getting along well on their own, too.”
Gorm gave Mac another raised brow. “I suppose you’re not worried at all about Molly?”
Mac shrugged. “She’s a big girl. She can take care of herself.” Of course, that wasn’t the entire truth. He always worried about her, particularly with tensions rising in light of the emperor’s One God mandate. Throw in some shapeshifters, increased tensions with Süt, and the difficulties with the Faceless, and it was a recipe for disaster. And she was sailing off to some gods-be-damned backwater with Kye.
Sensing his thoughts, Gorm gave a wry laugh. “I don’t believe you, but that doesn’t much matter.” He glanced around to make sure Padraig’s new sailors were not nearby. “What about Arbassis? We’ll make port in Shadowvale in a couple of days. Any idea what you’re going to say?”
It was Mac’s turn to stare off into the distance. He had not put much thought into it. If he were honest with himself, he did not want to think about it. The prospect of working with a Great House, even one as distant as Arbassis, was distasteful at best.
“I’m not convinced that the Great Houses even deserve to survive,” Mac replied.
“Mac, that’s a lot of innocent people dying.”
Mac slammed a fist into his palm. “And what were my parents? My brother and sister? My people?” he demanded angrily.
“Calm down, you know that’s not what I meant.”
Mac glanced toward the bow. Callan studiously ignored the pair, but both newcomers had taken an interest in their raised voices. He took a moment to breathe deeply, and the red faded from his vision. “I know that. And I don’t want all those people to die, either, not if I can help it. I just have to wonder if there’s something better than all this. If the Great Houses can turn a blind eye to the slaughter of others because they belong to another House or they might gain some infinitesimal advantage from the outcome, what good do they bring to the world?”
Gorm put a hand on Mac’s shoulder. “Good questions, my friend. I don’t think there are any easy answers. Is there something better? I’m sure. Can it become a reality? Maybe. Is it here now? No, and that’s what we need to focus on. We can worry about making the world a better place later, when we’re not dealing with shapeshifters and an insane emperor on the throne.”
Mac groaned and ran a hand through his hair. “You’re right, and I know it. I’ll think of something before we get to the Isle of Stars.”
Gorm grinned. “Good man. Now, let’s see about some food. I’m famished.”
“I could eat,” Mac agreed, and the pair made for the galley.
The journey unfolded without serious mishap, and days later, Mac found himself standing on deck watching as the island bulked larger in the distance.
“Why is it called the Isle of Stars?” Wynne asked.
“I’ve heard lots of reasons,” Mac answered. “But my favorite is the one my father told me when I was little. He said that the island’s vast central lake is so still sometimes that if you’re on it in a boat, you can’t tell whether you’re floating in the water or among the stars in the sky.”
“Aw, that sounds beautiful!” Wynne explained, clapping her hands.
“Beautiful or not, this is going to be a tough mission,” Mac admonished. “And don’t go getting any fool notions about visiting the lake. We’re here for one thing and one thing only. We need to warn Eric Arbassis and then get back out with our hides intact.”
“Arren, keep a close lookout,” Padraig called from the steering oar. “We don’t want to run aground. The western approach is littered with islets and sandbars to trap the unwary.” Arren nodded smartly and ran toward the bow. “Keen lad,” Padraig said with a grin. “Might have the makings of a real sailor, but we’ll have to see.” He looked at Mac expectantly. “You sound as if you expect trouble.”
“Mac always thinks there might be trouble,” Wynne laughed.
“Very funny,” Mac rejoined. He turned to Padraig, “But this time we’ve got good reason to be worried. Arbassis leads a Great House, and we need to manage an audience with him. My name isn’t going to unlock any doors hereabouts. The Toth legacy doesn’t hold water with Arbassis.”
“What then?”
“You’re going to love this,” Mac grinned, encompassing everyone in his look. “We need disguises. Arbassis is famous for taking a direct hand in managing his lands and likes to make deals in person with trade consortiums.”
“We’re going to pose as such a consortium?” Wynne asked.
Mac nodded. “You, Gorm, and me. Padraig, you’ll stay with the ship as usual, but I want her ready to sail at a moment’s notice. Keep Callan, Arren, and Pas on the ready.” Pas was the other sailor Padraig hired in Rakka, an older man with a salt-and-pepper beard and a sour mouth. “We’ll be traders out of Longacre.”
“Near enough to be believable, but far enough away that it’s impractical to check our credentials,” Gorm said, nodding his approval.
“Right you are. Then, when Arbassis comes to palaver, we give him our warning and then make wake for Sparrowhawk.”
Gorm raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Padraig, however, had other ideas. “What makes you think that he’ll let you out of there once your lie is revealed?” he asked, pointing his pipe stem at Mac. “Great Houses don’t take kindly to being played.”
“But we’ve got such forgivable faces!” Mac laughed and then shook his head. “Seriously, though, I think that once he hears what we have to say and sees the documents for himself, he’ll have other things on his mind than the fate of a few folks like us.”
Padraig’s expression said he felt otherwise, but he kept those thoughts to himself. Neither Gorm nor Wynne objected to the plan, a fact that gave Mac a great sense of relief. This was going to be challenging enough without internal doubts weighing anyone down.
“Sand bar ahead!” Arren’s warning shook Mac out of his thoughts, and the Talon were kept busy the next hour or two navigating the shoals. When he once more had a chance to get his bearings, Sparrowhawk was through the network of islets and approaching Star Harbor.
“Let’s get the colors up, Padraig,” he said.
“Longacre?”
“Aye.” He watched as Padraig sorted through the gear and finally came up with Longacre’s colors, a black square against a blue and red field. Up the mast they went, transforming Sparrowhawk from an anonymous transport ship to a trading emissary from another nation. She slipped into Shadowvale’s harbor without so much as a hiccup.
“There’s no pilot ships here,” Wynne observed as Arren and Pas made Sparrowhawk fast to a dock.
“No need, really,” Padraig answered. “It might be the seat of a Great House, but Shadowvale’s not exactly Rakka. Hells, it’s not even Rom.”
Their surroundings drove home Padraig’s point. In Rakka, the harbor had been abuzz with activity. Shadowvale was busy, but the scale was completely different. “An anthill to a mountain,” Mac said.
“What was that?” Gorm asked.
“Nothing,” Mac replied, shaking his head. “I was thinking out loud.” They had made it into the harbor unscathed, but now came the tricky part. “Right, let’s get changed. We’ve got a lie to sell.”
He, Gorm, and Wynne went to change, emerging a short while later in gear more befitting merchants. They swapped their traveling leathers for linen and left their visible weapons behind in their bunks, all but Gorm, whose staff would not draw much attention when carried by a merchant, especially if that merchant had a bum leg.
“Remember, you need to be ready to sail if there’s trouble,” Mac reminded Padraig as the trio descended the gangplank to the dock. “I don’t expect problems, but you can’t count it out when you’re dealing with someone like Arbassis.”
“Aye, she’ll be ready,” Padraig promised, waving his farewells. Behind him, Pas and Arren went about their tasks, not bothering to look up.
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I have a feeling there’ll be trouble….
Even the chapters in-between lots of adventure are great. I always enjoy getting to see the characters open up a bit more. I think Mac, Gorm, and Wynne are such romantics. I love them together and especially love them for this scheme!