Will Wight - Of Dawn and Darkness

“What’s itching you, Foster?” Calder asked, as Urzaia prepared him a meal.

“I think I know somewhere to dock without trouble,” Foster said. His voice carried a weight of reluctance that Calder couldn’t miss.

“Where?”

“We’re probably three hours from the town where you found me. Silverreach. We’ve passed it four or five times over the last couple weeks, only I didn’t want to mention it.”

Calder remembered a silent town, ten-legged Elder Inquisitors, a batch of crazy cultists, and the dingy room where they kept their captives. He remembered Silverreach.

But it had been a long time, and memories lost their edge. Besides which, he had years of experience on the Aion since then. Elder cults weren’t quite as terrifying when you’d come face-to-face with their masters enough time.

Then again…there was that rumor that the Great Elder Ach’magut was imprisoned beneath Silverreach. He might not have the same respect for cultists or lesser Elderspawn, but he maintained a healthy respect for the Great Ones.

His gaze turned to Jerri. She would know exactly what he was thinking, and she’d have an opinion.

She met his gaze, and she didn’t look excited. Rather, she seemed resolute, as though she’d come to a decision on her own. “Andel,” she said loudly, “let’s plot a course for Silverreach.”

Beneath his white hat, Andel turned from her to Calder to Foster. After deliberating for a second, he nodded.

Urzaia smiled over them all, like a benevolent statue of the Emperor. “So,” he said. “Where are we going?”

The town of Silverreach actually looked significantly better than Calder remembered it. Its harbor was clean and clear, the few boats having long since been cleared away. The lighthouse on the cliffs over the town had a new coat of paint, and its glass sparkled in the sunlight like a beacon all its own.

From the harbor, where the Lyathatan grudgingly held them in place, Calder could see straight down the central street of the town. On either side, the houses were in good repair: here a fresh coat of paint, there a new door. One sloped roof nearby had most of its tiles recently replaced.

But there were still no people. No smoke rose from the chimneys, no dogs barked, no voices whispered behind closed shutters. In fact, it was even quiet compared to their previous visit; this time, not even gulls called.

Urzaia wasn’t smiling. He had his hands on his hatchets, and he faced the town with more respect than he had shown his opponents in the arena. “What happened here?” he asked, his tone demanding an answer.

Even as Calder sent a pulse of Intent into the ship, furling the sail overhead, he answered. “The spawn of Ach’magut.”

Urzaia nodded once. “Lower the boat, please, Captain.”

Calder did so, and the longboat landed in the water with a splash. The Champion moved over to it. “I will hide in the closest of the houses, and I will stay near the doorway. If the Emperor’s men search for me, I will kill them rather than travel deeper into the town. When you come to retrieve me, do not enter the house. Instead, call to me from the street. If I do not answer your third call, leave me behind.”

With that, he swung over the side of the ship and into the waiting longboat. Seconds later, Calder saw him rowing toward the shore. Each time he hauled on the oars, his boat launched closer as though he had his own personal Lyathatan pulling him forward.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard him speak seriously before,” Andel said. “I’m impressed.”

“Pull out some cargo,” Calder ordered. “We’re receiving guests, and we need to be ready to explain why we’re here.” He glanced over at Foster, whose eyes were locked to the shore. “Foster? Do you need to inspect the equipment?”

Foster shook himself, snatching his shooting-glasses down from the bridge of his nose. “No, I’m…no, Captain. Bad memories, is all. I’ll have everything laid out for inspection when our guests arrive.”

The five white sails and five red Imperial flags were almost upon them. The crew of The Testament scurried over the deck, setting out their weapons and cargo for inspection.

Calder even laid his cutlass and pistol on the deck, once he saw the longboat deploy from the nearest ship. He was making a show of being unarmed, which would demonstrate his cooperation and goodwill toward the boarding soldiers.

But he was a Navigator aboard his ship, and the Lyathatan was restless beneath them. He was anything but unarmed.

It took Jerri and Foster both to wrestle Shuffles back into its cage. Its deep voice kept booming, demanding and angry at once, but they eventually got the Elderspawn back under control. When the resonant voice vanished, Calder knew they had finally gotten Shuffles’ blanket over its cage. He’d invested the blanket to lull creatures to sleep, though it didn’t seem to work reliably on Elders.

But it had worked this time, and with only minutes to spare; the Imperial longboat was close enough that Calder could make out the individual faces of its passengers.

He squared his hat, unfurled a ladder over the side of the boat, summoned a welcoming smile, and waited.

The first aboard was a man Urzaia’s size, with slabs of thick muscle that made him look as though he could put his fist through The Testament ’s mast. His skin was darker than Andel’s, so he must have been a pure-blooded Heartlander. Far from home, then.

He scanned the deck with a hand on the butt of his pistol and, finding nothing amiss, he bowed to Calder. Then he stood aside. Two smaller men climbed aboard next, followed by a Heartlander woman. They all wore the deep red uniforms of Imperial officers; similar to those worn by Imperial Guards, but different in style and trim. These were not Guild members, just soldiers. But in this case, they outranked him.

The woman was Calder’s age, perhaps a little older, and she had no badges of rank on her chest. Even so, the others stepped aside as she walked forward.

When she was ten paces from Calder, she saluted crisply. “Second Under-lieutenant Mora Belyard, sir. Permission to come aboard?”

Calder wasn’t sure where a “second under-lieutenant” ranked, but he doubted it was very high. And he couldn’t ignore the irony of a potential enemy asking to come aboard after she was already standing on his deck.

But then, he had very little idea what to do with the Imperial army. In the Capital, virtually everything was controlled by the Imperial Guard, with whom he had entirely too much experience. He knew the Guilds had less of a direct presence outside of the major cities, but he’d never learned the proper etiquette for greeting a second-under lieutenant as she stood on his deck.

He let none of his uncertainty show on his face. Instead, he returned a haphazard version of her salute—he tried his best, but he couldn’t do anything about a lack of practice—and nodded to her. “Welcome aboard, Under-lieutenant Belyard. I admit, I was surprised to see your flag, but we’ve moved all our weapons and most of our cargo up for your inspection. If you’d like to see the rest, I’d be happy to show you our hold.”

Not ‘happy,’ exactly, because Shuffles was currently in the hold. If they removed the blanket from the cage and came upon an unexpected Elderspawn, he would have some quick talking to do.

A smile flickered over Belyard’s face. “That won’t be necessary, Captain. Give me a moment, and I’ll be off your ship and we can leave you to…whatever you were doing in an empty, condemned town. To which the Emperor has restricted access.”

Calder winced. He hadn’t known Silverreach was restricted, though in hindsight it made perfect sense. The Emperor would have learned about the Elder presence by now, and had doubtless issued the restriction to keep ordinary vessels from stopping here. As a Navigator, he wouldn’t have been expected to dock here at all—Navigators only traveled where they were requested, and who would put in a request for an empty town? Besides, Calder contacted the Guild as little as possible. Even if his Guild Head tried to keep all her ships out of the area, The Testament might never have gotten word.