Brian Kittrell - The Consuls of the Vicariate

The Grand Vicar’s carriage stopped next to him, and Jurgen stepped down from the cab and embraced Laedron.

“I thought you wouldn’t make it,” Laedron said.

Jurgen grinned. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. And I have one last thing to give you.”

“What else could you give me that you haven’t already?”

Jurgen returned to his carriage, retrieved a scroll, and handed it to Laedron. “A ledger.”

“A ledger? What’s this for?”

“I spent quite a while this morning sorting through all of our old records. This ledger indicates the place from which the Farrah Harridan books originated, an address in Lasoron that may prove useful.” Jurgen grinned. “It’s yours. Farewell, my friend.”

“Farewell.” Laedron turned away and ascended the gangplank, giving Jurgen one last wave.

Valyrie hugged Jurgen before joining Laedron on the ship. Once they had all boarded, the crew pulled up the footbridge and untied the vessel from the dock.

A young man sporting the uniform of an Arcanist scholar approached. “Greetings. I am Bannelt, day navigator of this ship. Being that the vessel and the water upon which we sail belong to the Arcanists, I would be the one you should see for any question or concern.”

“Day navigator?” Marac asked.

Bannelt nodded. “We have a day navigator and a night navigator, for we cannot watch the sea all day and night without rest.”

Seems I would have been fit for that job , Laedron mused, thinking of his sleepless nights over the past week. “You’re the captain and the day navigator? You seem rather young for those tasks.”

“And I might point out that you seem a bit young, the lot of you, to be our blessed saviors.” The young man grinned with a certain arrogance. “I would have thought that my peers wouldn’t discriminate based merely upon my age, and especially not without seeing me in action.”

“Point taken,” Marac said, nudging Laedron.

“I meant no offense, and I apologize. I only mean to say that every ship’s captain that we’ve met thus far has been well along in years.”

“Perhaps that is a necessity on the open sea,” Bannelt said, gesturing for them to follow when he turned. “On the Sea of Pillars, you only need be gifted in the navigation symbols which guide the way. The helmsman is my second-in-command, and he is skilled in the handling of the ship and crew.”

Laedron glanced at the large wheel on the bridge, the man behind it carefully piloting the boat on its departure from the dock. “I’m intrigued to hear more about these symbols.”

“I can reveal little about them, unfortunately.”

“That’s something I wanted to ask you about. Why must the Arcanists be so secretive? Why the special navigational code?”

“To protect the ruins of Azuroth and the security of the theocracy. Things have not always been as they are now. In the centuries and millennium past, the Sea of Pillars served as a natural barrier to rampaging barbarian hordes and the intrigue of foreign nations. After the Great War, it served to protect the early settlers from many threats from the east, and we maintain these secrets so that the gains it offers will not be jeopardized.”

“So, the Arcanists agree with Azura’s use of magic?” Laedron asked when Bannelt stopped near the forecastle door.

“Not necessarily, no, but we must use that which exists to our advantage. Knowledge, science, technology, and yes, even magically created seas, can be exploited for our security and benefit.” Bannelt opened the door. “We are faithful to the church, and we hold knowledge and science above any mystical meddling.”

“Meddling? A true sorcerer is just as methodical and scholarly as any of the Arcanists I’ve met. What was that you said about judging people prematurely?”

“My apologies. I meant no harm with my comments. My only purpose was to explain our differences.”

“The symbols, what are they?” Brice asked, apparently trying to keep the exchange friendly.

Bannelt glanced at Brice. “According to all the records we possess, the pillars came about with symbols across each face, and the patterns were unique to each one, for the most part.”

Laedron furrowed his brow. “For the most part?”

“The patterns indicate our location in the sea, and it took years to find them and assign them a meaning.”

“You don’t know what they actually say?”

“No, but the patterns are indicative of the pillar you’re viewing, and you use that information to determine where you are and what your next turn will be. During our training, we memorize the ones we’ll need to know for a given route, and unless we are retrained or reassigned, we run that route our entire lives. All Arcanists must serve their time aboard the ships before moving on to bigger and better things. Some never move past navigation, and some like it that way.”

Laedron stepped through the door behind Bannelt, observing the comfortable, albeit cramped, living space. “These are our quarters?”

“Yes. The ship doesn’t allow for plush staterooms or fine dining halls due to its size, but I’m sure you’ll find them suitable for a couple of days.”

Laedron nodded, and Bannelt left. They each selected a bunk, but Laedron piled his belongings on the mattress instead of stowing them underneath. It’s not as if I need a place to rest .

“I think I’ll take a look around the ship,” Laedron said. “I have some more questions for our host, as well.” Exiting the forecastle, Laedron made his way aft where the bridge stood high above the water.

With a spyglass in hand, Bannelt said, “Begin your turn now. Two points to the port.”

Without hesitation, the helmsman rapidly turned the steering wheel, and Laedron felt the tilt of the vessel beneath his feet. He joined Bannelt on the bridge deck. The spires and silver and gold banners of Azura grew smaller in the distance as they exited the channel and entered the Sea of Pillars. In the vastness of the sea, pillars shone in the afternoon light, looking like the spear points of an entire army aimed toward the heavens.

“Might I have a word?” Laedron asked.

“You’ll have to wait. Another turn ahead,” Bannelt replied. A few moments later, he added, “Starboard, five points. Quickly now.”

Laedron was forced to grab the wooden railing to keep his balance during the turn. “Is the whole trip to be like this?”

“No, we have few turns as sharp as that.” Bannelt called to the helmsman, “Straight and steady on until I tell you otherwise,” then turned back to Laedron. “Your questions?”

“This sea is a mystery to me. Could small ships not traverse without being destroyed?”

“No. Even rafts would have great trouble making it more than a few miles.”

“Why is that?”

“The pillars you see aren’t the only ones. Come. Look here.” Bannelt came alongside Laedron and leaned over the rail. “You can see the points below the waves if you look closely.”

Laedron spotted sharp points revealed by the occasional trough. “Creator! How many spikes lie below the waves?”

“More than you could ever count. Enough to impale an entire army of undead,” Bannelt said.

Laedron recalled the story Ismerelda had told him about Vrolosh’s army and how it had been destroyed when Azura called the spikes up from the earth. The deluge she had cast afterward had apparently concealed the shorter projections. “And you know how to miss them all?”

Bannelt sighed. “As I told you, we’re highly trained for our routes. If it were easy, everyone would travel the Sea of Pillars. It took the original Arcanists a long time to document the pillars and the safe passes through the water.”