The Princess and the Blood of Eternity

Chapter 24: Just Following Orders

Wind tugged Davik's cloak east, out toward the ocean, back toward his home and family. Not yet, he thought. He'd be on his way soon. His work on the island of Mont Qerath had gone markedly well, almost too easily, which explained his current discomfort.

Minus the casual spying and information gathering, his role had boiled down to providing transportation. Decades of experience and his last mission had devolved to something almost anyone could do. Well, he'd still complete the job, even if it was akin to using a sledgehammer when the task was more suited to a small mallet.

He would bring the princess back to Gholand as agreed upon between the leaders. A plan revealed in its totality only yesterday. Why all the secrecy? Cryptic panhandling for something this simple. He shouldn't complain, and yet he couldn't help but doubt everything he'd been told. There were no free lunches in this world. Everything came with a hook.

He stood on the end of a thin dock at the mouth of a massive crevice that was naturally carved into the side of the island's cliff. Barely a crack at the top, it widened until it reached sea level where the island's inhabitants had built a dock into the sheer rock. Sea water churned in a constant struggle beneath the wooden platform as waves bit into the cliff walls in a process that was as old as time.

Clearing his throat, he fumbled for his metal flask in his coat pocket. He lifted the rim to his lips as he tried to control the tremor in his hand. Empty. He cursed loud enough for the noise to echo off the water. No matter, he had more stored in the boat's cabin. Still, it'd help if he could calm his nerves. He hated having such an obvious weakness, but what could he do? This was the hand that life had dealt him.

The boat he'd hired had been tightly lashed against the dock to keep it from being damaged. A half dozen crews had turned down the job upon learning they'd have to fight the rocks on the rear of the island. Discrepancy was key, hence his choice of a schooner, not to mention only a small craft, could fit in such a tight crevice. Anything larger would require the use of a drop boat.

He couldn't imagine what would happen to this dock when a storm rolled in. The waves probably swallowed the platform at regular intervals, and anything unlucky enough to be left back here would be smashed to pieces against those sharp rocks. Looking back at that thin staircase, he knew one thing: he hoped to never climb those slippery things ever again.

As for the rest of his people who'd worked with him, they would have to make their own way home. He felt bad, but it was better than drawing attention to his mission.

He'd sent word, ordering them to return. No details, just simple instructions that the mission had concluded. Trust only went so far in his organization. He'd feel better once he put this cursed island behind him. Assurances aside, he felt like everyone on the island of Mont Qerath was lying to him. The mission had left an unpleasant taste in his mouth.

The captain of the schooner cursed as he dropped something loud and metal, crushing a wooden plank. Bony with knobby elbows, the man walked with an odd limp, or maybe it was an exaggerated sea saunter.

The ocean did odd things to a person's mind. He knew sailors who had developed odd dialects that had nothing to do with their origin. This captain, his eyes had a habit of squinting in suspicion whenever Davik or a member of his own crew spoke. Natural or learned, he did it without thinking, regardless of the subject.

"Take your time, captain," Davik said, adjusting his long cloak. He had to shout to be heard over the waves breaking against the cliff. "No mistakes. I want smooth sailing, and don't forget there's extra money in it if you can make the journey as fast as you promised."

"You say two different things, but I catch your meaning. The last of our supplies are being strapped down and organized. We should be prepared to leave in a few minutes. We are primarily waiting for the tides to turn. I'd rather not get smashed against these rocks. The rest we can finish while we're on the water. Mr.?"