Rob Scott - The Hickory Staff

She drew a second blade from her belt. ‘I will go first-’ it was not a request, ‘and you two come on quickly behind me. I’ll position myself behind the aft mast there on the main deck while Steven makes his way inside. You-’ she gestured towards the fisherman, ‘stay with me.’ She sounded fiercely determined. Reaching into her belt, she withdrew a thin-bladed knife and a small axe. ‘Do you know how to use these?’

The seaman shook his head. ‘I never use such weapons, my dear.’

Angry, she snapped, ‘Well, what in all Eldarn did you come-’ She paused and pushed the unruly strands from her face. Hidden behind the relative protection of the crates, her stoicism suddenly vanished. ‘Is it you?’ Her voice broke. ‘Is it?’

He grinned and kissed her on the temple. ‘It is. No names, mind.’

Unable to contain herself, Brynne dropped the weapons and threw her arms around the old man’s neck, squeezing him to her as if to never lose him again. ‘You don’t- you don’t look like-’

‘No names,’ the old sorcerer repeated. ‘Our plan, my dear?’

Brynne was suddenly serious. ‘Right,’ she said as she wiped away an errant tear with a tunic sleeve. ‘No one’s appeared yet, but this ship is huge and the watch might take their time getting from one end to the other.’

‘Should we wait one cycle to see?’ Steven whispered.

‘No,’ the fisherman answered, ‘if there is a watch, and on a ship this size there must be, even if just to remain vigilant for other vessels, he probably isn’t patrolling.’ He retrieved Brynne’s weapons and handed them back to her. ‘If he does come aft, Brynne can take care of him.’

‘You sound confident.’

‘Only because I’m certain the critical chambers of this vessel are magically warded. No ship is going to run into this one, so there is no real need for an attentive watch.’

‘Magically warded?’ Steven felt a lump develop in his throat.

‘Of course,’ the fisherman said, as if magical traps were commonplace, ‘if you were he, would you leave the far portal in your cabin unprotected?’

‘I suppose not.’

‘Certainly not.’

‘Then how do I get in?’

‘Delicately, if you don’t wish to be detected.’

‘Or?’ Brynne said.

‘Or crudely, if you don’t care about Nerak hurrying back to destroy us.’

For the first time all evening, Steven laughed. ‘Okay. I opt for delicately.’

Overcome once again, Brynne reached over and squeezed the old man affectionately. ‘It is nice to have you back, even if you are a bit thin. I’ve missed your skill at pinpointing situational danger!’

The old man smiled back at her and went on, ‘So if Brynne is on hand to dispatch any wandering sentries, and you can use the staff to open the door to Nerak’s cabin, we ought to be able to get in and get out before he arrives.’

‘I thought you said if I were delicate, he wouldn’t know.’

‘Perhaps – that’s the one real risk we have to take. I am confident that he has no notion of the true power in that staff.’

‘So how will he know I’m here? As long as you don’t employ any magic, he’ll have no idea we’ve broken in, right? That’s why I had to be the one to save Garec and not you?’ Steven’s voice started to rise in anxiety, and he forced himself to speak softly.

‘True to a point, Steven. He cannot detect the staff’s magic, but I worry he will know when his safeguards have been breached.’

‘Well, hell, why should I be delicate if he’s coming regardless?’

‘That’s a great question, my boy.’ The old man pondered the idea for a moment, then shook his head. ‘You’re right. Let’s go for crude and fast.’

‘So there really is no way we’ll get out of here without a fight?’ Brynne was afraid she knew the answer to that one.

‘We – Steven and I – will probably find ourselves in a fight to the death with Nerak tonight.’ The old man rubbed a finger beneath his crooked nose.

Brynne tossed her head. ‘Then why didn’t you say so in the first place?’

His voice darkened and his face lost any hint of boyish charm as he said slowly, ‘If Steven can get through the portal quickly, I will face the dark prince alone.’

No one spoke. Brynne set her jaw and moved silently along the quarterdeck towards the starboard steps. A moment later, she disappeared.

Steven took a deep breath, gripped the staff like a lifeline and followed Brynne’s lead.

Nerak’s cabin was locked, but Steven could see and smell the wax tapers burning through the louvred doors. ‘This is it,’ he whispered. ‘I saw inside while climbing up the stern line.’

The old man gently placed the flat of his palm against the door and nodded. ‘I was right. It is locked with a spell.’

‘How do I open it?’

‘You follow the magical threads and untangle them, one by one.’

‘I’m not that good. I still don’t know how I saved Garec.’ Steven felt his chest tighten and a thin line of sweat ran down his spine. ‘You do it.’

‘The moment I employ my magic on this door, he will know.’

‘But if I try-’

‘He might not detect it.’ The old sorcerer shot Steven a dubious look. ‘It’s our only chance to gain time.’

‘Right.’ Steven felt the magic burst from his body like a thunderclap as he released it on the doorframe. The door exploded from its hinges and fell to the floor in a shower of oak splinters. ‘How was that?’ He smiled proudly.

The old man was dazed. ‘A bit noisy, but not to worry: it’s done. You find the portal. I’ll help Brynne.’

‘Brynne?’ Steven was a bit slow. ‘Does she need our help already?’

‘After your little demonstration here, my boy, she’ll probably need considerably more than just me.’

‘Damnit,’ Steven spat, and cursed his haste. He’d been so focused on Nerak that he’d been oblivious to the obvious: blowing up the door would bring everyone on board the Prince Marek rushing to see what the noise was. ‘Go! Help her!’

The old man took Steven by the shoulders. ‘Find the portal, Steven. That’s all you need worry about now. Just find the portal.’ Then he was gone.

Steven hefted the staff and collected his thoughts. ‘Find the portal. That’s all I have to worry about.’ But as he crossed the threshold, he heard a low roar, a distant explosion that careened across time and distance to reach him, rolling through his chest and leaving him reeling. He braced himself against the bulkhead.

‘Shit,’ Steven said. ‘He’s coming.’

Hidden behind the aft mast on the main deck, Brynne watched and waited, but there was absolutely no activity of any sort. Although she was beginning to wonder if there was anyone on board, she kept her eyes focused through the torchlight. Suddenly a loud explosion reached her ears: this was it: they’d done it! Her body tensed and she gripped her knives with renewed determination. Waiting for the enemy to arrive, she wondered what she would do if Nerak were to appear on deck, materialising before her in a brilliant flash. Would she run, dive over the side? Or would she attack him, slashing and cutting her way through his robes to the vulnerable flesh beneath? Was there vulnerable flesh beneath?

There was no time to answer her rhetorical questions: there was someone on board after all. Below decks she could feel the resonant thumping of people running: enemy sailors making for an open hatch twenty or thirty paces in front of her. She cursed herself for being such an idiot: any moment now a great crowd of sailors would spill from that hatch onto the deck and she would be overrun. Close the hatch, lock it down, then find and secure the others – that would buy some time.