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Journey's Seekers
By B. K. Parent iUniverse LLC
Copyright © 2014 B. K. Parent
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4917-2688-4
CHAPTER 1
It must be almost time for me to stand watch, thought Chance, when he heard the ship's bell ring seven bells. That made it a half hour before he was to report for duty. Chance decided it was too soon to get up out of his bed that was swaying slightly with the rolling of the ship. Soon this trip would be over, he thought. Then, thinking he might have miscounted the seven bells, he sat up abruptly, which sent him flipping out of the hammock, landing face down on the deck. It was then that the wrongness of where he was hit him almost as hard as he had just hit the floor. When Chance lifted his head off the grimy floor, he saw he was in a very small room. Light was coming through the small barred window in the door.
This is wrong, so wrong, Chance thought, as he picked himself up off the floor and gave the tiny space a better look. He was obviously in a ship's brig, but how had that happened? He could not remember being thrown into the brig. For that matter, the ship he had been crewing on did not even have a brig. When he looked out the small barred window, Chance realized he was in the hold of an unfamiliar ship. The faint light he could see by was filtering down through a grate in the hatch. How had he gotten here?
Chance had left home over a month ago, setting sail for the country of Sommerhjem, and unless it had been a dream, he had landed in the port of Marinel. He distinctly remembered slinging his sea bag over his shoulder, saying his farewells to the crew, and disembarking. He had headed away from the dock area, and then what? What had he done after he had left the ship? Chance remembered he had felt hungry and was looking forward to some fresh food. He had headed up the street away from the docks to find a place to eat.
What had happened next? Chance felt so tired, and he had a terrible headache. Racking his brain despite the pain, he remembered he had been drawn toward a small eatery by the smell of fish chowder coming out of the open entrance. The weather had been decent enough that there were a few brave patrons eating at the small tables set out in front. He had gone in and had been directed to sit at a small table near the back. He had set his sea bag at his feet and ordered a large bowl of fish chowder and some fresh cider to drink. When he had finished and paid for his meal, he remembered he had felt dizzy. Chance had put the feeling up to being tired and not quite having his land legs yet. Then what had happened, Chance asked himself. Everything was still just a bit fuzzy and off kilter.
Chance knew he had walked down the street and had begun to feel more and more dizzy. Finally, he had found it difficult to keep moving forward. After that, it was a blank. Trying to figure out how he had gotten into a strange ship's brig was not going to get him out, so Chance took a second look around to size up the situation. Though he was slight of build, he was not small enough to fit through the tiny window in the door of the brig, so that was out. The brig consisted of just a hammock and an empty bucket with a rope handle. That was it. Chance wondered what had happened to his sea bag. Walking over to the barred door, he grabbed and turned the handle, but it was locked tight. He grabbed the bars of the door's window, pulled and pushed each one, and then tried twisting them. None were loose. Looking through the bars, he could see the hold was packed from deck to top with crates, bales, and barrels. Sitting on top of a crate across from him was his sea bag. Well, that answers that question, Chance thought. Unfortunately, the sea bag was too far away to do him much good.
From the sunlight filtering in through the hatch cover and what little he could see out of the window in the brig's door, it was obviously daytime. The question was: was it still the day he had left ship? The crew he had sailed with had told him what could happen if he looked for lodging or a tavern down by the docks, which was why he had climbed up higher in the town to find a decent place to eat. Thinking back, Chance remembered he had had the feeling he was being watched, but he had put that down to being in a new and strange port. Hindsight suggested that he should pay more attention to his instincts, if he ever got out of the mess he now found himself in.
Chance could hear the sounds of footfalls above him, and voices, but he could not make out what they were saying. No one came down into the hold during the long hours of the day. As the light from above grew dimmer and dimmer, Chance wondered if he was just going to be left in the hold to starve to death. A short while later, he heard the creak and groan of the hatch cover being lifted. He heard booted feet begin to descend the ladder down into the hold, and then a large man crossed over to his cell.
"Move back," the big man growled. "If'n it was just me, I'd let you rot in here, but Pivane thinks that's too cruel. He's bringin' you some water and hardtack. Wouldn't wants you ta starve ta death. Might be needin' yer strength fer where yer goin'." The big man laughed cruelly and headed back to the ladder. "You comin' down here with that grub, or what?" he called up to someone who was leaning in the opening.
Chance was starting to have an even worse feeling about his situation than he had when he had come to. He had figured out that he had been slipped some kind of concoction that had basically caused him to pass out, allowing him to be captured and placed on this ship. He had heard of folk being pressed into service on ships. Dragooned was what it was called. Unfortunately, Chance was beginning to feel that his being dragooned was the least of his worries. His attention was drawn back to his surroundings by the sounds of someone else descending the ladder.
"How hard is it to grab a small water skin and a couple of pieces of hardtack? What were you doin', makin' soup, too?" the big man asked.
"Ah, come on, Mako," Pivane said to the big man, "'tis the least we can do for the lad, considerin' his future."
"Tsk, tsk, tsk, Pivane. Sometimes I think you are just too soft for our line of work. You need to think more about the coin we're making and less about how we're makin' the coin. Besides, we need to make up for what that weasel Olwydd cheated us out of. We've gots expenses, you know. This little task is goin' to set us up good for a while."
"Sure wish we were makin' the coin on dry land. Never did like bein' on a ship," Pivane whined.
"Quit your complainin'. Only a few more days and we'll be to the Shadow Islands. After that, it'll be smooth sailin' back to Sommerhjem. This lad must be somethin' special that the folk that hired us also hired a small ship."
"Do ya trust the captain and her crew?"
"What's not to trust? She's one of the best smugglers along the Sommerhjem coast. I knows those that's payin' us made it worths her while to take us to the edge of the Shadow Islands. They're just as squeamish as you. I can think of easier ways of gettin' rid of a threat, but they didn't want that on their conscience. Why they think dumpin' him off the ship just inside the fog bank that surrounds the Shadow Islands is going to be more merciful, I can't say, but it's their coin, so's we'll just follow orders."
At the mention of the fog bank and the Shadow Islands, Chance saw Pivane visibly shudder and almost drop the hardtack. Chance was not liking what he was hearing. He knew a little about the Shadow Islands from his parents, who knew more than most about them, but that certainly was not very much. So much of the history of Sommerhjem, and those countries and islands closest to it, had been lost over the years. The Shadow Islands had a terrifying reputation. Very few who entered the fog surrounding them were ever heard from again.
Mako grabbed the small water skin and hardtack from Pivane and shoved it through the bars of the window of Chance's cell. "Here, take this, and don't try anythin' or there'll be no more. Enjoy yer meal," Mako remarked, and his laugh as he walked back to the hold ladder was less than kindly. "Come on, Pivane, there's a card game about to start, and I'm feelin' lucky."
While Mako and Pivane had been in the hold, Chance had tried to hold his panicked feelings in check. On shaking legs, he took himself back to the hammock and sat down. Before he had left home, he and his parents had talked about the possible dangers he might face, but he had felt they were just being worrywarts. After all, the Regent who had been ruling Sommerhjem had been forced to step down, and Sommerhjem was now under the rule of an interim council. It was finally time for one of his family to return home, and he had volunteered.
Chance had been feeling restless. Heading off to Sommerhjem had seemed like just the adventure his life needed. Usually, he was much more content spending his time reading books about history and other folks' adventures than working for the family trade company. Chance was the family dreamer. He wanted more than sailing between the islands of Havkoller. He wanted to live the adventures like the heroes of the books he read. Even so, Chance's dreams of adventure had not included being locked up in a ship's brig, destined to be dumped off in the mysterious and dangerous waters surrounding the Shadow Islands.
Oh why, oh why, had he ever left home? Why did he think that living in Havkoller, a country made up of many islands and his family's adoptive home, was not enough? Why was he not content, when he came of age, to follow in his brother's and sister's footsteps and to have his own trade ship? Why had he not let one of his other siblings come back to Sommerhjem when word had reached them that the Regent had been removed from rule and the Gylden Sirklene challenge had been called? Chance had plenty of time to ponder all of his questions, for other than the visit of the two who brought him food and water, no one else came down into the hold as day turned into night.
A number of years before, when he was just a boy, Chance's family had fled Sommerhjem. It had become apparent that unbeknownst to most of the folk, the Regent had begun to try to systematically eliminate the Høyttaier clan, of which Chance's family were members. When the ruling queen died, she left behind a single heir who was not of age to rule at the time of her death. A regent had been chosen to rule until the princess came of age. The Regent had done everything he could to try to maintain power, so he would not have to give up the ruling of Sommerhjem, if ever the princess attempted to become queen. Regent Cedric Klingflug's biggest fear was that someone would call the Gylden Sirklene challenge, which had been the way Sommerhjem's leaders had been chosen earlier in its history. Over the last several hundred years, most people had forgotten that the position of king or queen of Sommerhjem had not always been hereditary.
Regent Klingflug had had folk loyal to him finding out all they could about the Gylden Sirklene challenge. In the reports he received, it became clear that members of the Høyttaier clan posed a real threat to his plans to continue to rule Sommerhjem. If the Gylden Sirklene challenge was called, the Regent feared that someone would come forth with the Book of Rules that governed the Gylden Sirklene challenge. That in itself was not the real threat, for the Book of Rules was missing from the royal library and its whereabouts was unknown. In addition, it was written in an old, lost language. Lost to most folk, but not to members of the Høyttaier clan. The real threat was that the knowledge of how to read the old, and mostly forgotten, language had been passed down from one generation of Høyttaiers to another. Regent Klingflug felt it was better to be safe than sorry, so he had strung all of the ifs together and set out to eliminate the entire Høyttaier clan. If the challenge was called, if the Book of Rules turned up, if there were no Høyttaiers left, then he would have removed everyone who could read it.
Three things had stood the Høyttaier clan in good stead. The Høyttaier clan physically looked no different from most of the folk of Sommerhjem. In addition, they were very guarded about being Høyttaiers, teaching each new generation in secret. Finally, they had cultivated good friends in high places, who had warned them of the Regent's plans. Chance's family had left Sommerhjem to wait until such time as it was safe to return. His father had been a merchant in Sommerhjem and so became one in Havkoller. His family had a small fleet of trading ships that carried merchandise from one island to another. How Chance longed at that very moment to be crewing on his older sister's boat, or lying in a hammock on the front porch of home, reading.
The next few days were the same as the first day. Once a day either Mako or Pivane brought him water and hardtack and put it through the bars. Chance tried to engage them in conversation but had little success. Mako seemed to delight in taunting him as to what might await in his near future. Pivane appeared to be less inclined to give Chance a bad time but was reluctant to answer any questions.
Even though he could not see the sky, Chance was a good enough and a seasoned enough sailor to know when the weather began to change and the seas became rougher. When Pivane came to bring him his daily rations, he came through a door Chance had not noticed before, rather than coming down the ladder from the deck. He saw that Pivane was looking a little green and had some trouble navigating across the hold's deck. When Pivane left, he must not have closed the door he had come through tightly enough, for as the ship rolled from one side to the other, the door swung open, then closed, then opened again. Chance could hear snatches of conversation when the door was not banging loudly between the frame and the bulkhead.
"The weather is getting worse, and I tried to tell...."
"Captain said she was going to...."
"Don't see why we can't just toss the lad overboard right...."
"Said we had to...."
And then the door must have finally latched, for Chance could hear no more. The seas continued to rage, and the wind howled through the night. The now empty bucket rolled from one end of the tiny cell to the other, then back again with each roll of the ship. Chance's biggest fear was the ship would capsize or hit a reef, and he would be trapped in the cell. When morning arrived and a weak light filtered through the hatch grate, the wind had died down somewhat. The ship no longer felt like it was being lifted and tossed from one high wave to the next.
Several more days passed. It was midday when both Mako and Pivane climbed down the ladder. Neither was carrying anything. Pivane headed toward the crate that Chance's sea bag had been resting on. It had fallen off during the storm, and some of the contents had spilled out. Pivane hastily shoved Chance's clothes and gear back into the sea bag. Mako came over to Chance's cell carrying a ring of keys.
"Time for you to get out of that cell, stretch your legs, and get a bath," Mako said.
Chance thought that Mako's words sounded good, but the gleefully evil gleam in his eyes filled Chance with a feeling of dread.
CHAPTER 2
Mako unlocked the cell door and cautioned Chance to behave and not try anything. Since Mako was taller, bigger, and stronger than Chance, and Pivane also looked like he could hold his own in a fight, Chance took Mako's advice. Mako shoved Chance forward roughly, and he stumbled. It did not stop him from glancing about and trying to figure a way out of his dire situation. Chance was convinced that Mako's version of a bath was not the same as his version of a bath, other than it entailed water and getting wet.
Pivane went up the ladder first with Chance's sea bag slung over his shoulder. Chance was next, followed by Mako. When Chance looked up, rather than seeing open sky, all he could see was grayness. The fog that enshrouded the ship felt damp and muffled sound. Once he was on the upper deck, it was difficult to see even a few feet in front of him. He knew if he moved quickly enough, he would be swallowed up in the fog. Mako and Pivane would not be able to see him, not that that would do him much good. After all, he was on a ship. Once the fog lifted, he would be easy to find for it was not a very big ship, probably only large enough for a captain and a few crew.
A voice called out of the fog. "Hurry up, Mako. Get it done. I don't want to be in this cursed fog a minute more than I have to."
"Aye, Captain," Mako replied, giving a mock salute in the direction of the voice. Keeping an iron grip on Chance's arm, Mako told Pivane to give Chance his sea bag.
Pivane did as he was told and handed Chance his sea bag. Chance was instructed to sling the strap of his sea bag over his head and across his chest. Mako then commanded that Chance hold out his hands, and he tied them up tightly.
"Come this way," Mako directed Chance and dragged him a short distance until they reached the rail of the ship. Mako reached around Chance, unlatched the fastener that held the opening for the gangway closed, and opened it. "Time for your bath, lad," Mako said and shoved Chance through the opening in the ship's rail.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Journey's Seekers by B. K. Parent. Copyright © 2014 B. K. Parent. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse LLC.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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