DORULL SAGA - BLOOD VENGEANCE
PART ONE
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The brig of the Garhmier’s mercantile guild cut the calm waters of Kabial lake, heading fast towards Vallsynk. Lull which lasted for the past three days forced them to lie dormant. It was no wonder the warm southern breeze was greeted in such a high spirit. But with the chief regent of Garhmier’s mercantile guild on board, any other reaction would be unthinkable.
The order to immediately set sails was a common practice, which usually served to check the readiness and general ability of the crew. First of all, it was necessary to procure the supplies that would last for the entirety of the journey. After which the sailors could proceed to load up the cargo, and then sail some five to ten miles from the shore, where they were obliged to perform several maneuvers under the watchful eyes of the port authority observers. If and when they were to satisfy all of the norms and criteria, the ship was allowed to return to the port. Not before. And they had only one day to finish it. Otherwise, the exercise would be invalid. But soon enough, everyone realized, this was no ordinary test. This was the real deal. It was apparent they had to set sails. And with the news of some very important passenger, soon coming on board, it was all but certain, they were going north.
A brand new, black, noble carriage made its way to the docks, towards the merchant ship. Large wheels rattled and creaked over weathered, worn, cobble road. It was escorted by six horsemen. Six elite soldiers, from the golden dagger branch of the Garhmier military, serving as a security to those most powerful, important and richest people. And Teer Scejvor, chief regent of Garhmier’s merchant guild, was certainly one of them. Before the doors of the carriage even opened, sailors knew the identity of the passenger.
He was wearing a dark, tight suit and white, silk shirt, tailored in the newest elven fashion, with the low-cut leather shoes and a matching cylinder hat. Teer was a middle aged man. His pronouncedly white, pale skin, made him look even more slender than he actually was. His thick, dark, neatly trimmed beard was a product of daily care, from the town’s most expensive barbers. It was obvious he rarely ventured outside. He was not quite sure what to do, once he exited the carriage. Luckily for him, his servant was there to whisper a few suggestions, and advise him how to proceed.
In a couple of swift, strong strides, the chief regent climbed onto the ship. He was adamant to go under the deck as quickly as possible. To go to his quarters, and avoid socializing with these sailors at any cost. Scejvor was adamant to do that so quickly, he almost collided with the captain of the ship, who rushed to greet the regent, once he noticed the arrival of the carriage.
“Captain Wilsen.” Scejvor said “May I ask your permission to come aboard.”
“It is an honor and a privilege to welcome you to Fuwalda, ser.” the captain bowed slightly “A couple of cabins in the far back of our sleeping area are empty for you and your escort.”
“Thank you very much.” Scejvor answered politely, although he wasn’t all keen to the idea of sharing the same quarters with the ship’s crew.
Main part of the merchant ship was the storage area. The brig was designed and constructed, so it could carry as much load as possible. Because of that, all of the luxury had to suffer. Every room had to be smaller. Even the captain’s quarters at the stern. Cargo vessels had no ballista gallery below the main deck. On those larger warships or even traveling ships, officers had separate chambers from the rest of the crew. They would eat from the separate kitchens.
But not here. Teer Scejvor found that out, once he accepted to travel to Vallsynk on Fuwalda. Then again, she was the fastest ship in the fleet and as such, the most logical choice. News about suspicious deaths of mercantile councilors in the north, had to be thoroughly researched and investigated. If it turns out it was the act of an assassination, guild had the duty to respond accordingly. With that in mind, chief regent Scejvor, ventured on this journey.
“When will we be ready to leave?” the chief regent asked.
“As soon as we finish loading the supplies.” the captain retorted “By midday, I presume.”
“Very well.” Scejvor nodded “I’ll be seeing you later.”
Mercantile regent proceeded towards one of the cabins, captain Wilsen left for them. This one was just for him, he thought as he hastily closed the doors behind. His entourage, his private protection, the golden daggers, had to make way into the other one. Scejvor had no intentions to share the room with them. He had no intention to mingle with them, or anyone for that matter. If it was up to him, he’d love to avoid them altogether, for the duration of this trip.
Nearly two weeks had passed, before anyone from the crew saw or met with him again. Teer Scejvor soon realized he had no need to go outside. His bodyguards provided him with food and drinks. What else was there to have, or do. As if he could find anything of interest on this ship.
Born in a rather wealthy family. Protected and sheltered from any and all troubles, cocooned in his small, carefree world, he couldn’t even begin to comprehend the beauty and the appeal of differences. Teer Scejvor didn’t understand life like other people. He was raised to look down on those of a lower class. He was raised a bigot. Raised to avoid those who were not rich or powerful. He had no real contact with anyone outside of this tiny circle, until he was deep into the second decade of his life.
His servants were just the tools. One step above animals, above pets. Or sometimes, he thought, as equal. Trained to perform most simplistic tasks. Because for anything more, they simply had no capacity. They were not worthy. Scejvor looked at these sailors in the same light. They perhaps did more useful work than his old maid, but not even close to deserve his respect. Size of one man's wealth was the best indicator of his importance. And these seamen appeared quite poor. Chief regent had no idea this journey would show how wrong he was.
Two weeks into their monotonous trip came the lull, completely surprising the sailors. Wind was pretty much a constant until then. There was no sign it would shift, or in this instance, completely disappear.
“Lower the sails boys, and tighten those ropes!” the captain yelled, as he climbed onto the deck “Make course alterations by one degree due east, in let’s say every two minutes.”
“The flag is asleep.” one of the sailors reported from the crow’s nest.
“Be on the alert. I want to know the instant the wind returns.”
Captain Wilsen knew there was nothing more they could do. Only to wait, in hope the lull will pass soon. These phenomenon weren’t rare. Usually they were the indicators of brewing storms. But they never appeared like this, out of nowhere, without warning. The skies were clear and blue, the captain couldn’t spot a single cloud. This confused him, and at the same time worried him a bit. The storm had to be far away from them and at the same time it was surely quite a massive one. How else would even be possible to feel the effects of it. Wilsen knew he didn’t want to be here when it hit. He hoped they wouldn’t be here, in the open, when it arrives.
“I want the regular shifts, and don’t slack. We have the guests on board.” the captain knew his sailors very well.
They’d seize every opportunity to muck about. Somewhat understandable, seeing there wasn’t much to do, except waiting for wind to return. And with chief regent on board the ship, waiting for the lull to disappear could easily become unbearable. Wilsen did not know how he would react to such news. Teer Scejvor was quite clear before. They had to reach Vallsynk fast, no matter what.
It took nearly half a day, before the mercantile regent realized that something was wrong. Air became a bit stifling and stale, as the temperature in his room started to rise. He began noticing they were standing still for quite some time now. But that could very well turn out to be just the figment of his imagination. He needed some answers. Fortunately, it was almost lunch time. One of his guards should soon bring him some food and with it, the explanation of this unbearable heat.
Soft knocking on a flimsy, wooden, tight door of his cabin, showed him that he was right. One of the soldiers from the escort entered soon thereafter. Scjevor did not know his name, as any others for that matter. But he noticed and remembered, this guard was the youngest looking of them all. His age was presumably the main reason, he got this duty of bringing the food. The rest of the soldiers must’ve put this, surely humiliating task, on him. That would surely explain why he was the only one coming into chief regent’s room. And despite all of that, young soldier never complained. On the contrary he was always smiling. He was always quite warm and kind. And Scejvor find that very unusual, somewhat strange.
“Awfully hot today.” Scjevor said as soon as the soldier closed the door.
“That’s because of the lull.” a young guard retorted, as he set the plate onto the small table, next to the bed.
“Because of what?” regent asked, not knowing what that word means.
“There is no wind.” the soldier explained “Occasional, and sparse breeze is far too weak for sails to pick it up.”
“How is this even possible?” Scejvor couldn’t wrap his head around it.
“Sailors are saying that lull portends the rough, and stormy weather.” the soldier said, “But no one knows how long it is going to last.”
“Unfortunate. Highly unfortunate.” the chief regent immediately realized he would be late.
And also, that he will be staying on this ship longer than planned. This prospect horrified him. With that in mind, Scjevor sat at the table. Sure sign for his guard to leave the room. Fresh, just cooked fish smelled wonderful. And it tasted even better. With perfectly seasoned salad and a piece of homemade bread that complimented the fish, it was a complete and surprisingly delicious meal. One, Teer Scejvor would enjoy eating back home, on a regular basis.
The food somewhat improved his mood. For a moment, he forgot about the problems. But with the last bite, it seemed that discomfort creeped back in. The temperature inside of the cabin peaked, as it passed the noon mark. It became unbearable to withstand being inside. Scejvor knew he couldn’t delay the inevitable. He had to leave. To go outside. But it took another fifteen minutes, before he could force himself to reach for the door latch. With a loud sigh, he stepped into a narrow corridor. There was no turning back now.
Sunlight momentarily blinded him, as he climbed on the deck. Dozens of sailors stood idle next to the bow railing. They seemed quite merry in their casual chatter. But as soon as they saw the chief regent, their entire demeanor changed. They suddenly turned silent. The uncomfortable silence would probably last more than this unfortunate lull, if Teer Scjevor didn’t decide to break one of his many rules. Engage in the conversation with the crew.
“How long is this…the lull…going to last?” with newly acquired knowledge, the chief regent decided to try and break the ice.
“Let’s hope, not too long.” one of the sailors, somewhat older than the rest of them, stepped up “Several days, to say at least.”
“I presume this gives you a lot of free time.” Scejvor was interested to know.
“The crew is still obliged to do the basics of duties, but I would lie if I say that it ain’t so.”
“It’s not my place to judge.” Scjevor smiled, “I was just curious to find out if there is anything you do, to pass the time.”
“Well, I think we somehow always turn to do a lot of naval exercises in times like these.” the old sailor retorted.
“And a lot of fishing!” the second one exclaimed.
“But mostly, we are into high diving!” third sailor added.
“High diving?” Scejvor asked “What is high diving?”
“It’s not diving as such. But rather jumping into the water. From the relatively great heights. Usually the main mast.” the sailor said eagerly.
“Perhaps our distinguished guest would want to see a demonstration.” Captain Wilsen proposed, as he appeared from below the deck.
Teer Scejvor gently bowed, making it quite obvious he wouldn’t mind. Several sailors already begin climbing over the tight ropes of the main mast. Their speed and agility was worthy of admiration. In just a couple of seconds, they were above the second sail, some thirty feet above the deck. All but one sailor, who proceeded to climb all the way to the top.
“Where is he going?” Scejvor whispered.
“To the top of the mast,” the captain smiled.
First sailor was already in the air, followed closely by the second and then the third. Chief mercantile regent jumped to the rails, just in time to see them disappear under the water. A few moments later, they were climbing aboard, cheering and laughing as if it was nothing. They cleared the water just in time for that sailor who climbed the top of the mast. With one last check to be sure no one else is in the water, he was ready to jump.
He closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath. In this highly critical moment, he could not allow any shred of doubt in himself. Even the slightest of miscalculations could lead to an accident. Carelessness could well prove to be fatal. It happened before to those who forget themselves. He was aware of that. With one last glance at the still water below him, the sailor jumped.
In a quite well practiced set of moves, that looked somewhat habitual, instinctive even, the sailor bent his legs upwards, grasping them with both of his hands, until he was almost touching the chest with his knees. With one slight, barely noticeable correction, he stretched his body in mid-air, straight as an arrow. He had just enough time to place his hands at his side, before plunging into the water.
“Fantastic!” Scejvor let it slip in amazement.
“Fine jump, but far from fantastic.” Captain Wilsen pointed at a tall, tanned man, climbing on the deck at that exact same moment “That is our champion, Barmeil. There’s no one better in the entire south.”
“You are holding the competitions?”
“Every summer.” the captain nodded “On the docks.”
“Is that so?” Scejvor said somewhat embarrassed by not knowing that.
“Hundreds of divers from entire Sannwel gather in Garhmier, to compete for the trophy.” Wilsen proceed “And this year, Barmeil is going for his third consecutive victory.”
Scejvor watched as this tall, broad-shouldered sailor climbed the mast. He couldn’t stop thinking about how he very much looked like one of the statues, which decorated the main dining hall of his luxurious mansion. Barmeil waited just enough to be sure that he had the full attention of the mercantile regent. And then he jumped. Head first. With his arms bent backwards, parallel to the body. Completely still, as he was gliding through the air, like a swallow. Scejvor gasped, when the sailor whizzed past him. He could’ve sworn their eyes had met.
Barmeil was now just a couple of feet above the surface of the water. He had just enough time to extend his arms, before he splashed into still, blue waters of lake Kabial. And he splashed quite hard, pushing out the spray of water more than twenty feet into the air. Scejvor could no longer restrain himself, as he began to clap wholeheartedly. Captain was right, now this was truly a remarkable display of courage and skill. And for the next hour, the chief regent had the opportunity to fully enjoy it. Even more so, once the captain started pointing out all of those barely noticeable details, Scejvor would otherwise miss. It became quite obvious that sailors created some sort of an art form out of these jumps. With every passing minute, the admiration towards them grew in Scejvor’s mind. And once, at the end of the day, when he decided to retire to his room, he was sure that he would never again miss an opportunity to learn or get acquainted with something new.
