Banners of The Sa'yen, page 17
Around me the battle increased by the second. The boom of cannonfire was now rolling on and on like one continuous roar, never slackening but growing in intensity. The smoke from the gunpowder was growing so thick a heavy fog had apparently settled in about us, blinding us to what happened only a few feet away. And the stench and acrid odor of spent gunpowder made my eyes fill with tears and my nostrils burn. I hurried the musketmen to the port side, and we had to leap from under falling block and tackle that had been cut from our rigging by gunfire.
Bodies littered the slippery deck that had now grown to a deep ruby red in color from flowing blood.
A breeze blew a hole in the smoke, revealing to us the Lord standing in front of a boarding plank that had been thrown onto our deck by the Hakadians, battling desperately with sword in hand to push back the mass of warriors that were trying to board us. I saw the Lord cut down three men in the time it takes one to blink his eyes, and then surge forward into the mass of Hakadian warriors themselves. Desperate to save the Lord’s life, for even the Sa’yen while He is in the body of a mere mortal will eventually die, I ordered my musketmen to kneel and fire at will. And then leaving them, I leaped across the body-littered deck, jumping the gap that separated the Hakadian ship from the Black Falcon easily and landed feet first on the deck of the Hakadian frigate. Behind, my musketmen fired a volley, their musket balls singing past my ears a merry tune of death as I hurried to come to the aid of the Lord. Hakadians fell from the volley, momentarily thrown into confusion, giving me time to reach the side of the Lord.
“There you are, Magdar!” the Lord yelled, running his sword through an Hakadian and grinning at me at the same time. “I wondered where you might have gone. I thought you had been wounded.”
“Aye, we shall be, Lord!” I yelled, parrying a thrust from a poor Hakadian swordsman and making him pay dearly for his foolishness with the tip of my blade. “We shall be sorely wounded if we do not return to the deck of the Black Falcon at once.”
“We are not on the Black Falcon, Magdar?” the Lord shouted back, cutting down another Hakadian with his sword as others rushed in to cut us down.
“Nay, Lord! In Your foolish lust for battle, Lord, You leaped from the Black Falcon and boarded this Hakadian scow. We both shall soon be surrounded by Hakadian dogs if we do not now make the attempt to return to our ship.”
And to my surprise the Lord lifted His head and laughed at His foolishness. Laughed openly and as easily as a boy would laugh at the sight of a foolish clown. I marveled at His boldness and confidence in Himself even as more Hakadians came to join the fray. My sword leaped to defend us from the many blades of the vengeance-crazed Hakadians. I dropped two warriors before me and the Lord dropped another. I thought we were about to meet our deaths then, for now it was too late to retreat back to the deck of the Black Falcon, as we were surrounded. But from the backs of the surrounding Hakadians we heard a cheering and then the crackling roar of muskets going off in a single volley. My musketmen were coming to our rescue! There was another volley of musket fire and the ring of Hakadian warriors thinned perceptibly from the fire. I had hopes of cutting our way out of this deadly trap, with the aid of the muskets my men were using expertly, when the most dreadful thing that can happen to any skyship happened. The Black Falcon, rigging still entangled with the masts of the Hakadian frigate, continued to pour forth broadside after broadside from her guns into the golden-hull. And with each broadside the Hakadian ship staggered heavily. But then suddenly she staggered deeply, heaved to the port in such a violent motion that all on her were thrown to the deck. Rolling, I gripped a piece of fallen rope to brace myself and fought my way back to my feet. The ship shuddered again from an internal explosion and with it the entire prow went up in flame and smoke. Again I was thrown to my back from the force of the explosion, the hot, searing wind blowing past me, wooden splinters from the explosion whistling dangerously along with it. Again I came to my feet to see the prow of the ship, in cluttered ruins, quickly being engulfed by tongues of hungry flames. Fire! The Hakadian frigate was afire! I looked about me to see if the Lord lay amidst the cluttered ruins of the deck unconscious, but I saw not his body. Frantic, I started to hunt across the body-littered deck of the stricken Hakadian frigate to find the Lord but I saw nothing. The fire consuming the frigate was leaping and crackling about me in startling rapidity, and yet I did not wish to leave the deck of the striken ship without the Lord at my side. Then suddenly, through the wall of flame I heard the terrified screams of a woman. There was a crash of cannonfire so close I felt the blast of hot air whip about me and then through the smoke I saw the Black Falcon had cut herself free from the burning Hakadian. I felt pleased at this stroke of fortune, but then the screams of the woman came to my ears again through the wall of flame, forcing me to stop in my search of the Sa* yen for a moment to peer about. Was I hearing things? A woman on board an Hakadian frigate? I started to dismiss this as delusion and start my search for the Lord again, but through the flames I again heard distinctly the high-pitched scream of a woman in the grip of sheer terror. And then I saw the Lord l I saw Him high atop the burning for'top mast of the Hakadian frigate, scampering up the rigging as rapidly as he could with the burden He carried in one arm. And that burden was a woman! A woman with long, dark brown hair who clung to Him as if terror gripped her heart Flames, searing hot fire, had completely engulfed the ship and were rapidly following the Lord up the mast! Spellbound, for I thought the Lord was to die that night, I watched below even as the fire hurried closer to me.
High up on the for’top’gallant spar I saw the Lord use His sword and cut rigging with it before returning it to its sheath. And then, gripping the long-haired, bare-breasted woman firmly with one arm, the Lord took hold of the rope, curled it around His forearm, and leaped into the dark night just as the flames made the for'mast stagger and come crashing down into the funeral pyre that was now the frigate. Through the night sky the Lord swung from the mast with the woman in His arm. And His path brought Him directly over me, passing through a wall of flame. Then, amazed at even His luck, I saw the Lord come to the highest point of His swing and He let go of the rope to sail through the night sky and land on the deck of the Black Falcon on His feet. Truly amazed at this feat, even disregarding the flames that were licking about me like savage beasts eager to consume their next meal, I lifted a cheer into the night at the Lord’s skill and daring. From the deck of the Black Falcon I saw men come to the railing with the Lord and point down at me. I saw the Lord cup His hands in an attempt to yell something at me but I heard it not. For the flames were now only inches from my body, the heat so intense I had to escape somehow. But there was no escape! I would either bum with the ship, perhaps my personal funeral pyre, or I could take the final plunge and leap from the burning deck of the ship into the night sky. I wasted no time in deciding the matter. Preferring the clean death of plunging to the forest below to being burned alive in a doomed ship, I waved a farewell to my Lord cheerfully, and leaped over the burning railing of the Hakadian frigate.
And I plunged into the smoke and fire of battle while it was still being fought about me between Hakadians and Aggarians. I fell. And fell and fell. For what distance I knew not. And then something smashed against my chest, bursting the wind from my body, and I suddenly was plunged into total darkness.
The first thing I was aware of was being cold. Very cold. I opened my eyes, but it took some time to focus them. And to breathe I had to grit my teeth and force air through the pain in my chest. There were two things I noted quickly. First, I was manacled with heavy iron at feet and hands to chains that were bolted to massive stone blocks. And secondly, I was in a tiny, cramped cell that was filled with such stench as to make me instantly gag. The cell was made of massive stone, coated with a green slime that was distasteful to the touch. I lay on a roughly hewn bunk made of Kakla wood filled with damp straw for a mattress. There was a plain wooden bucket filled with what looked like water, with a cup made of stone hanging on a small hook in the bucket. The bucket was just inside a heavy-looking cell door of wood studded with huge iron bolts. There was the merest opening, not even large enough to stick a hand through, in the door to see and between the heavy iron bars of this small hole came the dim glimmer of a poorly burning torch. And yet all this did not displease me. In fact, I marveled at the luxury of it all! I was alive! Alive after a seemingly assured death plunge from the burning deck of the Hakadian frigate! Alive and now apparently a prisoner kept in some deepest comer of a nobleman’s dungeon. As I fought down the pain in my chest, I wondered who my captors were and where I might be as I struggled into a sitting position. I had not long to wait, for soon a man’s voice boomed out from the other side of the door calling for the captain of the guards.
A half hour slipped by, with only the sounds of my breath whistling through my teeth as I gritted them from the pain in my chest plus the slow, hypnotic drone of water dripping in large droplets from the stone wall in one comer of my cell. I would move my arms now and then, and the rattle of chains would break the droning silence, snapping my growing desire to plunge back into a deep sleep again. And then, from the door came the rattling sound of a massive lockbolt sliding back and the screeching, protesting creak of ancient door hinges opening. Torches, several -that were freshly trimmed and burning brightly, filled the cramped cell and boots stepping firmly on hard stone came to my ears. Throwing a manacled hand up to protect my eyes from the intense light of the torches, I blinked several times yet was unable to focus on the forms that filled my cell and looked down upon me with blurred faces.
“So this is the famous Magdar, called the Left Hand of the Lord by the fools who follow this imposter who thinks he is the Sa’yen. This is the swordsman that killed my trusted Captain Thordak? This scrawny, dirty dog of a boy is the murderer of Thordak? Impossible!”
I should have felt fear and dread for I now knew who stood in front of my bunk dressed in fine gowns of satin and fur, bejeweled and appearing every bit as powerful as he indeed was. Bahir Kandar himself! I should have fallen to my knees and begged for mercy, knowing full well that this was what the ruthless, merciless Prince of the House of Kandar expected. But I only lifted my head and looked up into the face of Bahir Kandar and smiled.
“I am indeed the one that killed Thordak, your personal assassin, Prince Kandar. But I take no honor in it. I expected the killer, reputed to be a fine swordsman, to put up a fight. I hardly expected to kill him with such ease.”
For my answer I received a bone-jarring slap from one of the torch-bearing guards that flanked either side of Bahir Kandar. Tasting blood in my mouth, I smiled again through the pain and looked at the young, dwarfish, hawk-faced Bahir Kandar with a sneer. Dressed in the colors gray and red, the colors of his family house, the prince looked down upon me with the glittering light in his eyes and a mocking smile on his colorless lips. He had the reputation in the city of being the crudest of masters and the most treacherous to deal with. And there was no doubt to anyone that Bahir Kandar was ruthless and sought power. One had only to look at him once, to see the greed and lust for power in his eyes, to become convinced of that. Yet none had dared to suggest that Bahir Kandar might possibly be mad. I said nothing but kept my eyes on the face of the prince and thought over the likelihood that the man was insane.
“You and your master have been great thorns that have plagued me in my plans, fool. But merely that. Only thorns. My plans have come about and surprisingly the attack you and your master made the other night upon the combined fleets of the Hakadian and Aggarian ships furthered them along more than was anticipated. For that I should thank you, you filthy peasant My thanks will be a swift death for you and your master instead of the slow, painful exercise I had at first planned for both of you. But I am magnanimous. I am merciful. As soon as your master falls into my waiting hands in his attempt to rescue you, peasant, it will be the end of the last resistance that keeps me from ruling Triisus without a standing army on hand.”
“You, Prince Kandar, as evil as you are, have not near the cunning or daring that would be needed to capture the Lord”
A torch-bearing guard stepped forward, grinning mercilessly through a dirty beard ready to strike me again, but the prince motioned file man to step back and then lifted his head and laughed softly, effeminately at my words.
“The Lord? You address your master in the tense of a deity still? Where is your God now, fool? Eh? While you rot, chained to the walls of my dungeon, where is your lord to save you? What powers will he conjure up to save you from dying of thirst and starvation? Ah, Magdar, my sources of information have told me you were always the bravest of the brave, as one would expect a person raised in the ways of the Ha’valli to be. But not very bright, eh, Magdar? Not very intelligent. How will he save you? How can a mere being, like you or me Magdar, be a God? Eh? m tell you. He’s not a God! And he’ll never save you! He will try, for all fools try the impossible. But he will fall into my grasp and I will crush you both. And when I crush you and him together, I will crush the smoldering rebellion that threatens to break out in my reign as Emperor of Triisus.”
“Emperor of Triisus? What madness do you blabber, Kandar?”
This time the delicate, soft white hand, laden with heavy, jeweled rings,, struck me with all the strength the small, dwarf-sized man could muster. It stung but little else, and I acted as if nothing had happened at all. Yet there was fury and rage in the man’s mad eyes and the small man, dressed in his rich robes, shook violently, restraining the rage that gripped him. And then quite suddenly, like a breeze suddenly dying on a hot afternoon, the rage left his eyes and he stood up relaxed and smiling. Admittedly, I was somewhat taken back by the suddenness of the man’s change. And I came to die conclusion that Bahir Kandar was indeed mad. Dangerously mad. But I said nothing and watched the small, hawk-faced prince smile at me as he stepped to one side and lifted a hand at the same time.
“I am Emperor of Triisus, you foolish peasant. And with your help, I might add. A coup, my foolish boy, yesterday afternoon. And I must thank you for the unplanned but timely participation of you and your master. But let me introduce you to the one who planned the final blow that made me at long last the ruler of Triisus. Meet Hasdrubal, Admiral of the Hakadian Grand Fleet, Personal Advisor to the Emperor Hassan of the Hakadian Empire.”
One of the torch-bearing guards had to step out of my tiny cell to make room for the bearded, robed admiral of the Grand Hakadian Fleet to enter. He was a tall man, darkly bearded with curled hair that fell to his shoulders. He was dressed in the blue and white livery of an Hakadian flag officer, and running diagonally across his chest was the silver and red sash that marked him as one of Hakadian’s most highly decorated officers. He was heavily scented, as all Hakadian courtiers were, and the aroma that he wore was heavy and thick. One look at him, a man I already knew by reputation and had once encountered while in the presence of the Lord months before high up in the Tors Mountains, was all I needed to know that a deadly enemy stood before me. Looking down upon my manacled hands and feet, the perfumed, finely dressed courtier smiled with evil pleasure. Bowing elegantly to me, he began playing with his curls as he spoke to me with a voice of soft, viper deadliness.
“My Lord Kandar speaks truly that your unplanned help furthered our plans immeasurably, fool. And I would go so far as to say that without the intervention you and your master imposed upon us the other day we possibly would have failed in our ultimate goal of capturing Triisus and placing it safely into the hands of Lord Kandar.”
“Hey? What do you blabber, Hakadian? Help in capturing Triisus? We did nothing of the sort. We attacked the Hakadian and Aggarian fleets in the hopes of disbanding any attempts to convert the Aggarian pirates into your allies. And I daresay we succeeded, tool”
“Ah, yes! You succeeded admirably, peasant! Admirably!” Bahir Kandar nodded, beaming with pleasure as he looked at the scented figure of Hasdrubal. “And for that, we should reward him, eh, admiral?”
“Indeed. Oh, yes indeed!” The curled, perfumed admiral nodded, smiling in his pleasure as well. “A roommate perhaps? An old friend to while away the hours in this cell planning impossible escapes? A comfort that will help him along while we await the coming of his dear lord and savior?”
“Yes, yes! How deliciously cruet it will be, admiral! Bring in the other prisoner and chain him to the walls as well!”
Bahir Kandar and Hasdrubal, Grand Admiral of the Hakadian fleets, stepped out of the cell to make room for two powerfully built guards, dressed in plain breast armor covered with the livery of the House of Kandar, to drag in a filthy, unshaven, yet still defiantly struggling form. In the dimness of the light of the torches I had a hard time seeing who this prisoner was. But even though the small man struggled with his guards, it was apparent that much of his strength had been beaten and whipped out of him, for his robes were the tattered remains that come about only when the cat-o-nine-tails has been used. Much of the man’s body was caked in dried blood from the abuse heaped upon him and yet the man struggled valiantly. I felt admiration and gladness well up in me for the show of resistance this man exhibited. And I vowed that I would yet be free and reap the final honors from this humiliation thrown upon both of us. The two burly, hairy guards easily restrained the weak man’s struggle and chained him to the walls beside the1 only bunk in the cell, then withdrew quickly. Bahir Kandar and Hasdrubal, Admiral of the Hakadian Grand Fleet, entered into the cell, with the Admiral now holding a torch over their heads.
