Torches burned in the humid air releasing the acrid smell of burning pitch. The midday passing of Syphys was still underway, the remaining darkness making the harsh light of the torches stand out more.
Alinyaln pulled out his spyglass in the hopes of seeing what was going on but he was only able to discern the crowd coming in the direction of the docks. What are the odds it’s not us? He asked himself. What could have riled these people up so much in the first place? Self-governed towns like Tusana never have this large of a turnout for calls to arms, not unless something truly serious had happened.
“Lass!” Alinyaln shouted, looking around for Ninia. She had been standing close by, watching the crowd with a worried expression on her face. “Grab Kiara and go belowdecks, take the portside engine and wait there.”
“Wait, Captain?”
“Yes, wait. I’ll fire my noisemaker to signal you two.” Alinyaln then waved her along, the girl running to do as she was told.
The Yishks that were on board for the call--only four of them--were waiting at attention when Alinyaln barked his orders at them and they ran to comply, grabbing long poles from the mast of the ship in order to push them away from dock. He wetted his finger and held it in the air, a gentle breeze coming from the starboard side. “Manuan’s cursed luck.” Alinyaln muttered to himself, cursing the God of the Skies for the bad wind.
The ship slowly began to move as the Yishks pushed with all of their might, moving backwards out of the dock. Drags would have been a big help in this, the cursed Dragonkin had to drink too much today of all days.
A dark glass bottle was thrown from the crowd and hit the side of the Mercy of Dradinoor, splashing an unfortunate smelling liquid onto the wood of the ship. Rocks, trash, even Pieces were being thrown with vigor at the Mercy as the crowd approached and now the chorus of shouting was almost deafening. By whatever luck they hadn’t yet begun to throw their torches, but perhaps they were hoping for a better chance.
A Yishk was struck in the head by a rock and collapsed in a shout, Alinyaln running over to him. It was a large gash that bled profusely in the way of head wounds, a horrible sight, but Alinyaln had no time to see to the man's injury. He grabbed the fallen Yishk’s pole and joined in the push against the dock until finally they were far enough to be able to turn the ship safely.
Alinyaln ran to the helm and yelled, “Half sail!” The remaining three Yishks unfurled the ropes holding the sails in place and hit the switch lowering the cloth. Because they had a tailwind which would push them back toward Tusana, Alinyaln used the small amount of speed they were developing by the sail alone to throw the wheel as hard as he could to the port side, the Mercy of Dradinoor lilting deliberately as the rudder caused the movement to be redirected.
Once they were oriented with the shoreline of the island, bow barely past the wooden docking, Alinyaln reached into his pocket and pulled out the noisemaker, firing into the air. The snap hiss KABOOM of the gun made his ears ring even with him using his shoulder as an earmuff. The mob at the dock ducked down clearly expecting Alinyaln to have fired upon them.
They returned fire, now unleashing their flintlocks at the ship. “Down!” Alinyaln yelled to the Yishks on board, who all dropped to the floor of the deck, Alinyaln himself crouched down so he could still helm the ship. A lurch pulled at Alinyaln’s stomach as a faint roar came from the waters below, and ponderously the Mercy of Dradinoor began to speed up. The sails, not designed for being blown so strongly the opposite direction, were pulled taught around the mast and the joints holding it all together began to creak.
Moments passed and Alinyaln pressed down on one of the buttons on the helm which would signal to Kiara and Ninia to stop the engines, as they were far enough away to have time to breathe, Tusana still visible but with the danger of a toy.
The ship slowed as the engines were stopped, soon coming to a complete stop except for the soft rocking of the waves. They needed to stop to hoist the sail entirely est they tear the mast down on top of them.
Taking a deep breath Alinyaln ordered, “Sails up!” And the Yishks saw to it. His knees shaking from the adrenaline, Alinyaln ran over to the fallen Yishk and inspected him. He was pale and wheezing, the head wound oozing far more slowly now. Alinyaln touched his neck and felt a weak pulse.
He put his arms underneath the Yishk and carried him belowdecks. “Higlim!” He shouted, setting the Yishk down on the table which had a few books scattered across it. “Where are you?” Alinyaln called, looking around for the cook. Yaskin was sitting in his cell looking at the hull of the ship, body still bandaged.
“’Ere, Captain!” Higlim responded, hobbling out of his cabin with a worried look on his face. “What is that out there?”
“Mob.” Alinyaln said, nodding to the Yishk. “Take care of him.”
Kiara and Ninia approached from the opposite side of the hull. “Captain, is he well?” Kiara asked, saluting belatedly.
“I don’t know.” Alinyaln said, his hands flexing in agitation. “How could this have happened, Kiara?”
“I’m not sure, Captain.” Kiara said stiffly. “I believe Jendul was keeping her ear to the ground so she might know—assuming she made it back to the ship—but I was focused on finding the Dragonkin.” She spat the last word like it was foul.
“She’ll have made it back.” Alinyaln said with a nod. “Or maybe in a few days.” He admitted, but then he shook his head. “Back up abovedecks, we need to make sure we’re in the clear.”
Kiara saluted smartly then climbed the stairs two at a time, impressive for one of her height. Ninia looked scared, and Alinyaln couldn’t blame her. “What did we do wrong?”
“Nothing.” Alinyaln shook his head. “Not for that reaction, anyways. Even murder wouldn’t pull a crowd that large.”
“Is there any way someone could have spread some false rumors about us?” Ninia asked seriously. “Maybe Tyrnarm?”
“This can’t be Tyrnarm.” Alinyaln shook his head. “It’s too subtle for him.” He waved for Ninia to follow and they ran back up to the deck where Kiara was delegating orders to the last three Yishks. The ones left behind will have to fend for themselves, the poor fools. Hopefully they won’t be in any danger, but they will likely be forced into labor for another Captain since Alinyaln had now, officially, abandoned them.
Alinyaln approached the helm of the ship when a cannon shot rang out, deeper than that of gunfire. He looked back at Tusana and leaving the dock were two small skimmers, thin and tall masts with their sails furled up, each with a gunner and a helmsman. At the speed they were moving, they must be powered by moscin, tearing through the waves.
He kicked open the door to his cabin, where he saw Kiara tending to Letno, trying to wake the woman up. Neither Cloud Crafter had awoken. “Kiara, get belowdecks with the Yishks, we need cannons.”
“Aye, Captain!” Kiara saluted, then ran out of the cabin past Alinyaln.
“Tell Ninia to fire the engines, port first!” He added to the order, to which Kiara nodded and kept her pace, disappearing belowdecks with the Yishks.
Alinyaln took a deep breath, grabbing hold of the wheel. He looked back at Tusana and there were a few larger ships coming their way now as well, but they weren’t moving nearly as fast as the skimmers were.
With a lurch, the Mercy of Dradinoor began to move forward but at an angle, the portside engine firing first pushing the ship along centerward, then the second engine came to life in a blaze of glory and the ship turned true. If the starboard engine had been started first, they would likely have sailed directly into the sandy banks of the island and been dead before the moon finished passing.
Ninia appeared from the hold of the ship. “Orders, Captain?” She asked, approaching with a stagger as the Mercy hit a wave.
“None, get belowdecks and stay there.” Alinyaln snapped at her, not glancing toward her as he tried to steer the ship around the larger waves, throwing the wheel from one direction to the other. It was a surreal experience as the massive ship shifted slowly to each side. It was like sailing on an island, an inevitable movement that one could only hope to adjust.
“Captain, let me help!” Ninia shouted over the whipping wind. As their speed picked up so too did the roaring of the air around them.
Alinyaln had half a mind to order her into the hold of the ship, but he hesitated at the earnest look on Ninia’s face.
I need to trust her. He thought to himself.
“Fine,” He said, nodding his head to the sword rack over at the gunwale. “Arm yerself and if anyone comes on board push them back.”
“They’re going to board?” Ninia asked, suddenly pale as she hesitated before grabbing a weapon.
“They’re going to try.” He waved at her. “Go!”
They had been slowed during that exchange as Alinyaln hadn’t been avoiding the larger waves, instead plowing straight through them. This allowed the skimmers to approach even more rapidly, and a moment later they were now circling the Mercy of Dradinoor, one skimmer in each direction.
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Cannon fire from belowdecks rang out with puffs of smoke but the shots missed, splashing into the water. They were so low manned that Kiara was only firing from the starboard side. Cannons weren’t reliable enough for only one or two shots to fire at a time and hope to hit something, no, the more chances at any time to hit something the better.
A sharper crack came from a skimmer, then the second. The movement of the Mercy then slowed so greatly that Alinyaln was almost thrown over the helm of the ship, his speed no longer matching that of the rest of the ship. Ninia staggered as well, dropping the sword to the floor as she did so, the sharp edge striking the wood and gouging a rend in the material.
Alinyaln ran to the side of the deck to see behind the Mercy, and he saw both skimmers with tow lines pulling them in the opposite direction than they had been going. This didn’t halt their forward movement as the Mercy’s engines had larger crystals, but the slow speed was as good as being stopped.
The water beneath the ships began to steam from the heat of four moscin engines firing in the same area. It would only be a few minutes before that water started to boil. The pilots of the skimmers remained on board, but the cannoneers grabbed hold of the tow line and began to climb. Alinyaln wasn’t able to reach the cable from his vantage. The men who boarded the ship, mismatched in their appearances as they were likely little more than civilians who wanted to help the mob, approached Alinyaln with their swords drawn.
“’Roit, now,” One said, tall and balding, he had a pretty hefty paunch for the deadly look he was giving Alinyaln. “Surrender, and we can see you get somethin’ like a trial.”
“And what charges are you taking me in for?” Alinyaln asked, grabbing hold of his quiat, but making it look to be a pistol to the men as it was still hidden beneath his jacket.
“Kidnappin’,” The second man said, this one looked to have a lithe danger to him, far more agile than his companion.
Alinyaln’s heart dropped. This trouble was all about Yaskin? “You can have him, then.” Alinyaln said, waving to the men. “We were only going to keep him until he was healed.”
“’Im?” The first man said, looking toward his companion. “Don’t know about an ‘im, ye kidnapped the seamstress off of Crantin Street.”
“Syrin? She’s not a hostage you dullard!” Alinyaln almost laughed. “She’s my betrothed and she came aboard willingly!”
“That’s not the word that’s been spread.” Said the second man. “If that’s the case, then she’ll be more than willin’ to exonerate you.”
“She’s…” Tarnation, of all of the times to black out. “She’s not awake yet.”
“Ye drugged her, then?” The second man asked with a sneer on his face. “I’ve heard enough, Brig, take his ‘ands and we can go.”
The other ships arrived with more forces. They pulled alongside the decks of the Mercy and men and women both jumped over with swords drawn. Ninia tried to keep them at bay, and Alinyaln could hear them trying to talk her down. That was comforting at the very least, they only wanted Alinyaln’s hands.
Alinyaln drew his quiat and ignited it, the fresh crystal in the handle burning brightly in the shadow of the moon. He dodged back from a swipe, then flung the torrent of fire out at the first man, his clothing smoking. The man growled, then stepped forward thrusting his sword. Alinyaln dodged to the side and kicked the sword downward, wedging it into the wood of the deck, then he held the fire of the quiat to the blade and in a few moments the metal of the sword grew red hot. With a push he shoved the man backwards and his grip, still strong on the handle, pulled the red hot section of metal apart leaving him with a misshapen lump of metal attached to a handle.
The second man saw this and kept his distance from the quiat. While many had heard of the weapons, they weren’t very common, so this man took care around it. He swung at Alinyaln who moved to dodge, but it was a trick, the man then kicked Alinyaln’s leg out from under him.
Alinyaln dropped like a sack, almost landing on the still hot metal wedged into the deck of the ship, but he managed to avoid it and roll to the side as the man swung downward. Alinyaln caught the edge of the blade in the spiked handle of the quiat and pushed the weapon backward, the heavy metal spikes slowly growing a dark orange from the heat. Alinyaln copied the man, a feint in one direction making the man move out of the way, but with a shove of his shoulder Alinyaln pushed the man overboard.
A bloodcurdling scream came from the waters below. Alinyaln looked down and saw the man flailing in the now boiling waters, screaming in agony as his skin turned angry and red and—Alinyaln had to look away, he couldn’t watch any longer.
Closing his eyes, Alinyaln waited for the screams to subside. Once they had, he looked downward and saw the corpse now floating in the boiling waters. Regret filled his chest. That man didn’t deserve what had happened to him, but he hadn’t given Alinyaln much choice.
Ninia was still trying to keep the others at bay. Alinyaln ran over to provide support, swiping at the group with the quiat. A few were hit more fully by the flames than others, their wet clothes igniting from the attack. They staggered away and rolled on the deck trying to extinguish the flames, which disrupted the group.
Alinyaln stood at the ready, quiat raised into the air.
“There she is!” One of the group called, pointing over toward Alinyaln’s cabin. Alinyaln changed a glance and saw Syrin standing there, hand to her head, leaning against the doorframe.
And as a whole they forgot about Alinyaln, swarming around him and Ninia and approached Syrin. A few of them, the ones that seemed to be the leaders interrogated her for minutes.
Once they were happy with the answers she had given them, they simply… left. They climbed back onto their own ships, the remaining cannoneer who had boarded cut the cables to both of their skimmers, the extra strain gone now and the Mercy began to accelerate.
A disappointing ending, Alinyaln realized, but it was likely for the best. He couldn’t have fought off the entire city of Tusana, not if he wanted to live and tell the tale. He’d barely managed to fight off his two opponents.
He looked back at the corpse floating in the water, abandoned to his fate. He took a deep breath and groaned, sitting down with his back against the railing.
Blue slippered feet approached, Syrin crouching down slowly. She winced as she did so, her head still hurting her.
“I’m happy to see you awake.” He said to her with a fake smile. “How are you feeling?”
“Miserable.” She said with a smile that matched his. “They thought you abducted me.”
“That’s what I heard.” Alinyaln said, shaking his head. “Someone had to have spread that as a rumor, trying to get me into trouble.”
Syrin nodded gravely. “That’s exactly what happened, I think.”
“Did they tell you who gave them the information?”
“No, I don’t know if they even spoke to anyone in particular.” Syrin said. “It’s been a long time since anything’s happened in Tusana, people thirst for destruction sometimes.”
Alinyaln barked a bitter laugh. “So, it was just a matter of timing, then?” He shook his head. “We were set up. Now I’m missing several Yishks, I don’t know where Jendul is, and I just killed a man doing little more than what he thought was his duty.”
“Lyn—”
“No!” He pushed her hand away and stood up. “We were set up, Syrin.” He began to pace. “I don’t understand who would have done something like this, but Ninia’s right. It’s got something to do with Tyrnarm.”
“Lyn, listen to me.” Syrin said, standing up. “Letno and I didn’t see anything in the Sigil. Tyrnarm is no where near Tusana, if he were, we absolutely would have seen him.”
“It has to be him, Syrin.” Alinyaln insisted, his hands shaking.
“It’s not, Lyn. Maybe—”
“Maybe what, Syrin?” Alinyaln flung his hands up in the air. “Maybe I’m being irrational? Maybe I’m seeing what I want to? I fucking know it’s him!”
Syrin raised a hand to her chest, eyes growing wide. A second later a tear trailed down one cheek, then the other, falling to her chest gently. “You’ve never spoken to me like that.”
Alinyaln looked at her, then his heart broke to see the tears falling from her beautiful face. He stepped over to her, hands still shaking in anger, but he wrapped his arms around her and she began to weep in pain.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered to her as he rubbed her back, feeling the soft material the dress was made out of.
“I’ve never seen you so angry,” She said into his chest. “My gentle Lyn, what happened to you?”
He closed his eyes, rocking her softly. “Everything.” Alinyaln grabbed her by the shoulders and held her at arm’s length. “I didn’t want you to know, Syrin. I’ve just been so angry after what happened. And things just keep getting worse and I just—” He coughed as tears came to his throat. “I’m so sorry I shouted at you, Syrin.”
Syrin looked at him, her deep brown eyes staring into his, infinite depth in them. He loved those eyes, though he regretted that the tears welling in them were because of him.
“Don’t let it happen again.” She said, wiping her eyes and slapping him on the arm.
Alinyaln looked around for Ninia, but he didn’t see her anywhere.
“She went below.” Syrin said quietly. “I think she got cut so she’s talking to Higlim.”
Nodding at this, Alinyaln looked forward in the waters. There was nothing for miles. It wasn’t particularly safe to leave the ship unmanned with the moscin engines running but right now he would make an exception.
He and Syrin made their way belowdecks into the hold of the ship. “Is Letno still out?” He asked quietly.
“Yes,” Syrin replied. “She should be waking up anytime though, I don’t know why I woke before her.”
“You’re a stronger Crafter than she is.” Alinyaln suggested. “That could be it.”
Higlim was sewing up Ninia’s arm when they walked in, a long bloody gash on her bicep where she must have been struck on the arm. “Captain!” She said with a grin on her face.
“Are you alright, lass?” He asked her, stepping forward and inspecting the wound. It wasn’t a bad cut, it looked far worse than it really was.
“Yes, I’m fine. It hurts but not too bad.” Ninia admitted, shrugging.
“Don’t move!” Higlim barked, the old cook struggling to regain hold of the needle with his gnarled fingers.
“Lyn.” Syrin said, shifting Alinyaln’s attention to her. She nodded to the side of the room where the Yishk that he brought down was laying peacefully, eyes closed. Alinyaln stepped over to the man and felt his neck. There was no pulse.
“Yanuan’s blackened balls,” Alinyaln growled. “Why?”
“Head trauma, Captain.” Higlim said quietly. Alinyaln noticed Higlim’s quiet mood now. He was hurting over the loss of the Yishk.
“We’ll take care of him tonight.” Alinyaln said. “Lass, once Higlim is done, go rest.”
“Aye, Captain.” Ninia said with a nod, and with that, Alinyaln took his leave, walking along back to the helm of the ship, Syrin staying behind.
