Shadows Bleed

IX

IX

It was mid-morning and, though the sun shone brightly, light rain drizzled from the clouds as the Mayflower drifted past the lofty lighthouse guarding Haven's port. I briefly glanced up at the looming tower. It stood near one hundred metres tall and the entire length of the structure, from ground to sky, was covered in intricate carvings detailing the legends and mythos of the Feldwini people. Faces stared down at me from the highest floor of the building; tourists. I sighed and ignored their waves. Had my arrival been heralded by more pleasant events than those of the night before, I might have admired the lighthouse and cheerily returned the waves of the port's visitors. Instead, I focussed on bringing the ship, this vessel I had come to hate, into dock.

The shards controlled my hands and feet as I adjusted the sails and steered the ship towards the pier, docking with expert efficiency despite having no sailing experience. As the ship rubbed against the wharf, I saw a man flanked by two soldiers approach. I ducked into Robert's cabin, having expected something like this to happen.

I tried to avoid looking at his resting corpse as I entered but my eyes were drawn to his. I choked back tears and forced my gaze to the chest on his desk, discovering, when I went to open it, that it was locked. A small key was needed to open it.

Suppressing the urge to vomit, I stooped low by Robert's body, reaching for the cord tied around his neck and pulling it free. His lifeless eyes burned into mine the entire time, cutting deep to my soul, accusing me.

"It wasn't my choice!" I hissed at him and stood to open the chest.

Inside was a modest collection of sovereigns and crowns. I could only hope Imperial coin would be accepted in the independent kingdom of Feldwin as I emptied the contents into a leather purse and returned to the deck.

I pulled on my cloak, hood overhead, and lowered the gangplank to be met on the stone pier by the aforementioned, well-dressed, but slightly chubby, official. He gave me, the bundle in my arms, and the Mayflower a customary once-over before speaking.

"You're not Captain Landstone," he charged.

"Aren't I?" I questioned, placing a half-dozen sovereigns into his already-open palm; the man was a veteran.

"My mistake," he apologised, flicking a coin to each of the soldiers by his side. "The sunlight plays tricks on my old eyes. Good day to you."

I bade him farewell and continued down the pier. The port was quiet, for the most part, the majority of traffic having dispersed much earlier. I stopped. My hand flew over my shoulder, wrapping around the hilt of Banshie, as a dozen men blocked my path. They all wore a collection of tattoos, piercings and curly body hair. It was a less-than-pretty sight.

"No need for that miss," one of them said as he stepped towards me. He was a large man and perfectly ill-proportioned. While his entire body rippled with muscle, there was an irregularity to his body shape that was almost laughable. I met his eyes with hardened regard.

"Then kindly step aside. I have business to attend to," I warned, loosening Banshie so the steel was free of the scabbard, glinting in the sunlight.

"Oh, my apologies," he said and moved to the side unexpectedly. "I was told to tell you that we," he indicated the men and, I now noticed, one woman, that accompanied him, "are to be your crew."

"I beg your pardon?" I asked, shaking my head in sheer bewilderment.

"Err, you're Ae...Arri...Eario Llewyn, aren't you?" he took a turn at confusion.

"Sure, I suppose so. Who told you this?"

"Uh, he didn't give 'is name, just handed us each a bag of coin and told us to wait for you."