EIGHTEEN

 

THE SURVIVOR

 

The humid heat of the jungle was a welcome relief after the chill of the Sirmon Ranges. The wind had dried out their skin, making their faces sting. Karina and Nira were exhausted. It required incredible willpower, and the aid of Lorenso’s rejuvenating potions to keep them going. Even Antano had stopped repeating his tiresome jokes, and their spirits were at an all time low.

Not long after they had passed into the lush canopy of the rainforest, Lorenso prepared an incantation to throw Rostan’s men off their trail. The soldiers had been gaining on them, and were now only half a day behind. The wizard sent a message reeling through the atmosphere, making them believe they had headed inland instead of along the coast.

This completed, they set off again, following the path of the sun to get to the shore. By the end of the second day they reached the ocean road. Relieved to be back on their horses, they rode at a steady canter. For the next few days travelling was easy, the route to Lancastro a well used path. The water’s timeless pounding of the shore lulled them to sleep at last, and they woke well rested.

Alecsis continued to receive the occasional fleeting flash of memory as they followed the shoreline north. Perhaps it was the close proximity of the water that brought back the past. Through the windows of his prison, he saw numerous alien ports. He caught glimpses of large cities, built of stone and glass, towns with snow-capped mountains looming over them, and villages inhabited by primitive tribes. They never stayed at any of these ports for long. Something always made his nemesis return to torment him.

On their second day on the coast road, when it became overcast with a thin layer of high cloud, Alecsis noticed the dolphins. About half a league out to sea, they traveled in the same direction as Alecsis and his friends. There were only two, and they often disappeared for hours at a time, but Alecsis spotted them again and again. He knew it was wishful thinking, but he couldn’t help wondering if they were the same ones that had originally brought him to shore.

The dolphins stayed with them all the way into Lancastro, a small fishing and pearling settlement. Alecsis last saw them whilst standing on the hill overlooking the township. Then they swam out to sea, and Alecsis led his party into the settlement. Most of the houses were made of sandstone blocks hacked out of the sheer cliff-faces further north.

From his last journey this way, he knew that the coast road veered sharply inland due to a sudden rise in the headland. Leading seventy-odd men meant that no inn had been able to accommodate them, and Alecsis had skirted the town, camping in a cleared area about half a league away.

The people hadn’t known of their presence until he sent a messenger to tell them that their attackers were dead. Alecsis saw little sign of pillage. The sturdy stone homes had obviously withstood the siege. Now they were only five, Alecsis rode straight to the small, protected harbour where accommodation could usually be found. Once they had entrusted their mounts to a groom at the Oceanview Inn, they entered the cool, sandstone building.

“Ye may have to use some unnatural persuasion to make the innkeeper to give us a room for the night,” Alecsis whispered in Lorenso’s ear. “I for one am impoverished.”

Lorenso smiled. “I do believe this belongs to you.” He extracted a familiar purse from the folds of his robe and handed it to the young man.

“Jenkano’s money bag!” Alecsis gasped in surprise, never expecting to see the purse again. King Rostan had paid Alecsis enough for him to secure the moneybag behind a lose brick in his chamber. “I won’t ask how ye found my hiding place,” he laughed.

“Then I won’t tell you,” Lorenso answered.

The innkeeper, true to his profession, was a rotund, bald man with greedy eyes. Once he saw that the strange party could afford their accommodation, he showed them to their rooms; airy chambers with large windows overlooking the ocean. Karina and Nira decided to rest before dinner, so the three men made plans for a walk along the harbourfront. Before they got very far, propriety compelled Lorenso into a merchant’s clothing store.

“We may have grown accustomed to our own stench, but I did not like the way that innkeeper wrinkled his nose at us,” the magician said softly. “I think a change of clothes and a bath are in order.”

As usual Alecsis had trouble finding garments to fit his tall, well-built frame, so he was forced to settle on a pale green robe, accompanied with a black and gold woven belt with tassels that looked uncannily like the old magician’s.

“If ye wish to become versed in the art of spellbinding, ye might as well become acquainted with the clothing of our profession,” Lorenso said. “I think I might plait that unwieldy mane of yours as well.”

Alecsis merely rolled his eyes, and when they got back to the inn he washed and hung his own clothes out, vowing to put them back on as soon as they were dry. Not only did Lorenso braid his hair, but managed to persuade him and Antano to leave their swords behind, although he had no problem with concealed weapons. “After the last pirate attack, the good people of Lancastro are already suspicious of strangers,” the wizard said. “We don’t want them to think we have come to start a war.”

Once they were clean, they set off. Lorenso was wearing a plain dark blue tunic and matching breeches, and Antano had on a garish doublet and hose discarded by some noble with terrible dress sense.

“Ye really do look ridiculous,” Alecsis shook his head at him. “Just as well my purse is bottomless, because I don’t think that outfit was worth what I paid for it.”

“Well, I like it,” the youth retorted.

Several pearling boats had returned at the same time, and a great deal of activity was taking place on the docks when the three men approached the protected harbour. From the level of excitement, someone had done well that day. The travelers stood back to allow the cheerful crew past. So engrossed in their celebrations, they cast the strangers no more than fleeting glances. Nothing short of an earthquake would spoil their pleasure this day.

Lorenso drew Alecsis’s attention to a tall man in their midst. Alecsis had been watching the ocean for another sign of the dolphins. Lorenso had to jab him in the ribs to get him to follow his gaze. “See anything unusual about him?”

Alecsis turned his attention to the stranger. Lorenso had pointed him out because of his height and colouring. Although his hair wasn’t blonde, it was lighter than that of the people around him. A sandy brown, he wore it cropped short. His skin, although exposed to many hours in the sun, was a light, golden brown. But it was his face that drew Alecsis. Like himself, he possessed the sharply hewn features he suspected were a common trait of his countrymen. He was tall and muscular, but looked considerably older than Alecsis. His gray-blue eyes were surrounded by a myriad of tiny lines.

Alecsis had spent the past three years longing to come across another survivor, but now that some of his memories had returned, he feared to confront the pale man. Alecsis recognized him. He had seen him on deck a few times, but did not know if he was friend of foe. Reason told him to turn around and leave him to his celebrations, but curiosity about his homeland compelled him to step forward. Antano’s hand on his arm made him stop.

“Don’t do it,” the slender youth urged.

But the other man had already seen him. They came face to face, and his companions continued on. One of them called out to him. “Hurry up, Lorg. The pearl exchange closes in ten minutes!”

The big man didn’t seem to hear them. He stared back at Alecsis with such a look of horror, Alecsis felt an uncomfortable tightness constrict his throat.

Then Lorg took a step back, almost tumbling off the edge of the pier. He steadied himself, and brought a hand to his chest. He wore plain fisherman’s garb, short breeches for making diving less restrictive, and a loose white shirt to keep cool under the sun’s glare.

“I... I never deserted ship, Capt’n,” he began with a stammer. He spoke Avionan in a heavily accented voice. He didn’t seem to have grasped the language as well as Alecsis. Or perhaps his fear made him stumble over his words. “I... I fell overboard in the storm. I... I tried to find out what happened to everyone, but... but they were all gone. And... and then the pirates took your ship. They took it north, Sir. But they’re gone now. So... so if ye want her back, you might find her at the Pavlo Inlet. That… that’s if the king’s army didn’t torch her.”

Antano sniggered. “He thinks ye’re the captain!”

“Well we do look rather alike,” Alecsis admitted, suppressing a shudder as the fiend’s cold, hard face flashed in front of his eyes.

Then a new thought struck him. “Do you remember the boy, Alecsis?” he asked in his native tongue, the words flowing as naturally as water along a brook. It had the desired effect. The man stopped his trembling to gawk at Alecsis.

“I... I haven’t heard Crystonian for so long... It... It’s like... You won’t believe how homesick I am,” he answered in their language. At least now Alecsis had the name of the tongue. If he played his cards right, he could get a whole manner of information out of this man. “Alecsis, did you say?”

“Yes.”

Lorg frowned, and something akin to pity crossed his face. Then he squared his shoulders in anticipation of a confrontation. “Look, we’re in a whole new world now,” he said in Avionan. “Ye have no control over me any more. I have employment here. I told you where ye can find your ship. The boy probably drowned. Hell, everyone drowned...”

“Then how did you survive?” Antano asked suddenly.

“I clung to a plank that must have been ripped loose in the storm. Eventually I came to shore about half a day’s walk south of here,” Lorg explained.

“You were lucky. I came to shore further north, and walked for days afore I came across another person. I’m not who you think, Lorg. I am Alecsis. Over three years have passed. Children grow up. I hated that captain as much as you did - probably more.”

Lorg’s expression underwent another profound alteration. Alecsis could almost feel the relief flooding through him. “Of course you’re not Captain Rose,” he said in Crystonian. “I... I can see that now, but you’ve grown up to look remarkably like him... So there is justice in this world, after all.” Then something else occurred to him. “My friends spoke of a pale-haired knight defeating the pirates. It was you, wasn’t it?”

“Have you seen any other pale-haired men hereabouts?” Alecsis asked in the same language. It felt strange using it again, but he didn’t seem to have forgotten any of it.

“No thank the Goddess, for we both know who the other would be. Well, it looks like I missed the pearl exchange. How about joining me for a drink?”

“We were just about to invite you for one. We’re staying at the Oceanview Inn. We’ll be dining there as well.” Alecsis offered.

“The Oceanview serves good ale. It has rum too. Why not? It isn’t every day one meets a fellow countryman this far from home.” Lorg grinned, slapping Alecsis across the shoulders. “Of all the people to survive the storm, I’m glad ‘twas you. They weren’t a likeable bunch, were they?”

“You can say that again,” Alecsis agreed.

“They weren’t so bad when we set out, but all those years at sea must have meddled with their minds, twisted them somehow. I’m not sorry they’re all dead.”

By the time they reached the inn, everyone knew the knight who defeated Krystos was in town. People in the tap room wanted to congratulate Alecsis and buy him a drink.

“Yer not getting my friend drunk,” Lorenso announced. “I know what that stuff does to him.”

“One drink and he’s anybody’s, huh?” tittered a buxom wench not of the serving variety.

Lorenso glared at her. He had never liked the women of her profession.

“Better do as grandpapa says,” she giggled, and wandered off towards a more responsive group of men.

Lorenso began wriggling his fingers, but Alecsis pushed his arms down. “She’s not worth it, Renso... What were you planning to do anyway?”

“A few unsightly warts in several sightly places,” the wizard answered laconically.

“Charming,” Antano remarked.

Lorg was looking at them with a bemused expression on his face. Alecsis felt the big man’s loneliness, his longing for friendship. He had found life on Avion difficult, perhaps even more so than Alecsis. Alecsis’s empathy told him that he could trust this man, that he had the potential to become a powerful alley.

“One of us should see to the girls before we get too comfortable,” Lorenso said, as they approached an empty table.

“I’ll go,” Alecsis replied. “I want to get out of this dress anyway. How women wander about without tripping over their skirts I cannot begin to fathom.”

“And that comes from a man who used to wander about in a clanking iron suit twice as heavy as he was,” the magician snorted. “But leave the plait. It rather suits you.”

Lorg looked away at that point, and Alecsis wriggled his fingers at Lorenso. To his surprise the mage ducked. Alecsis left the tap room, chuckling softly to himself.

Karina answered his knock. He entered to find her sitting on the bed clad in a serving wench’s gown. Nira was still asleep in the other bed, a similar dress slung over one of the two chairs in the room. A bath sat in a corner, and a bar of soap lay on the window sill. Through the window he saw that their clothes were also drying on the line. The rain had held off for most of the day, but now the sky looked leaden.

“How are you faring, dear one?” he asked, slowly approaching her. She looked so beautiful to him, her freshly washed hair spread out over her slender shoulders.

She smiled up at him. “Magehood becomes ye, Alecsis. I like that outfit on you.”

“I don’t.” On cue he stumbled over the hem of his robe, tumbling onto the bed beside her. “See what I mean?” He righted himself. “It looks like rain. I think I might go and bring in our clothes.”

“I’ll do that, Alecsis dear, if you bring us some dinner.”

“Ye have no wish to join us?”

“In a rowdy tavern full of drunken pearlers? I think not.”

“On second thoughts, I agree with you. I fear ye might be indecently propositioned, even with me by yer side. The whores are out early tonight.”

“The pearlers did well today. Those women know there is good money to be made.”

“How did ye become so aquatinted with the talk of the town?”

“The cook likes to gossip. The other news item is that the slayer of Krystos is in town. Don’t let them get you drunk, Alecsis.”

“I shall behave myself. Besides, I have news of my own to gather... I’ve found another survivor.” And he told her about Lorg. “I want to find out all he knows about my homeland, particularly that mysterious crystal fountain.” Gently he took her hand. “He seems like a reasonable man. I do not sense any evil within him.”

“Will you ask him to join us on our journey?”

“If he want’s to. Do you mind?”

“Nay, of course not. He might even know how to sail the ship.”

“Not just a pretty face.” Alecsis caressed her cheek. “He is bound to know a thing or two.”

For the first time since the dreadful night Lorenso had banished Leonado, he risked a kiss. Leaning towards her, he gently touched his mouth to hers. She did not pull back, but neither did she respond, and equally as gently, he drew away again.

“I love you, Karina,” he murmured.

“I love you too, Alecsis, but please move slowly. I am still afeard.”

“Was that kiss too much?”

“No, dear Alecsis. ‘Twas fine.”

“We’ll try it again later, hmm?”

She finally managed a smile.

“That’s what I want to see. A lovely princess should never look glum. I will make you smile always, my love, one way or another.” He realized then that he would probably never have the courage to tell her about his own experience at the hands of Captain Rose. He was having enough trouble accepting it himself. How could he talk about it to someone who had experienced something so similar? Touching her cheek again, he left the room.

When he returned with their supper, Nira was awake, and Karina had brought in their clothes. As the two women sat down at the table to eat, Alecsis went to his own room to change into his comfortable tunic and leggings. Then he returned to the tap room.

It had grown rowdier in his absence, but his friends still sat in their secluded corner. Their own meals arrived a short time later. Conversation was kept at a minimum while they tucked into their food.

“So what brought ye back this way?” Lorg asked, pushing his empty plate away.

Glad he had brought the subject up first, Alecsis met his gaze and said, “I want to go home, and we have reason to believe that the ship did not perish, but remained anchored in the Pavlo Inlet. My friends and I intend to find it and sail her home.”

Lorg looked almost disappointed. “I doubt ye’ll find enough men to crew her, let alone ones who will know how to sail a ship such as that. This world is essentially a primitive one, and adventuring isn’t a strong motivator unless there be money involved,” he said slowly in Avionan.

“Ye don’t think we can do it?” Antano asked.

“I was the chief navigator. That alone was a full time job. She needs at least thirty men to sail her,” he answered.

Something about Antano had started to nag at Alecsis, but although his empathy was strong where emotions were concerned, he could not work out what it might be. Perhaps it was Antano’s out of character negativity. Ever since coming across the dead soldier, he had been unusually taciturn, even brooding.

“We have to find the ship first. Then we will plan a strategy,” Alecsis said.

“Why have you decided to go home now? Do you not have a good life here? To be knighted at such a young age is a rarity. Surely it must have been a great honour, considering your humble beginnings,” Lorg went on in Crystonian.

“The time has come to move on,” Alecsis answered in Avionan. “There is something I want to ask you. When I fell into the ocean, I had some trouble with my memory. All those hours in the water must have done something to my mind. My past is starting to come back, but I still do not recall much about my homeland. Have you ever heard of something called The Crystal Fountain?”

“Of course. Everyone who worships Roseana longs to bathe in its crystal waters,” Lorg continued in his native tongue. “I, for one have never seen it. Few people have. The priests are very strict about who they allow inside. If everyone entered, the waters would lose purity, or so they say. Personally, I think it’s a ruse to keep the masses out, thus allowing only the wealthy to heal their wounds and ease their aches.”

“It has healing properties?” Alecsis asked, wondering how his future was linked to it. Perhaps because of its magical nature, he reasoned. Both Jenkano and Lorenso had said that with the correct tuition he could become a mage in his own right, so what need did he have for healing waters?

“So I’ve heard. Who knows if it’s really true. There are only two criteria to gain entrance. You either pay a hundred Markens, equivalent to about a thousand Dacmas, or try to convince a priest that your need is greater than everyone else’s. I’ve heard that they’ve turned away grievously wounded people because they were in rags. You’d think they would get the message, but people still travel hundreds of miles to The Crystal City in the hope of curing their ailments.”

‘It hardly sees fair,” Alecsis murmured, staring moodily into his tankard.

“Not much in this world is, my friend. I’ve only been to The Crystal City once. People also go there in search of work, the reason I went... You know how it got its name?”

Alecsis shook his head.

“Sorry, I forgot you forgot,” Lorg chortled. “The palace on the hill above the temple is made entirely out of crystal. It’s the most incredible thing in the world. If you’d seen it, you would never forget the experience. When the sun shines on its spires, its colours shimmer all over the city. It’s such a bright, lively place, particularly at night. One could spend a lifetime savouring the capital’s nightlife,” he sighed.

“What exactly is crystal?” Alecsis asked, wishing that he could include his friends in their conversation, but Lorg simply hadn’t mastered enough Avionan to tell his story in their language.

Lorg sighed again, his face serene. “It’s like glass, only many times stronger. The rose fountain gushes forth molten crystal, or so they say, which is why it has the power to heal...” He ran his big, broad hands over his fuzzy, razor-cut hair.

“Anyway, I was lucky enough to find work. I’ve navigated many a ship through the straits of Birka, and considered it an honour to join Captain Rose’s crew - until I found out what a tyrant he was. The Crystal Rose is probably one of the fastest ships in all of Crystonia. She’s certainly the most beautiful vessel I have ever seen.”

“He named his ship after himself, or after the rose fountain?” Alecsis asked.

“Who knows? He was so arrogant and vain he probably believed our Goddess was named in homage to him,” he snorted derisively.

“You only worship one God?”

Lorg frowned. “You really have forgotten a lot, haven’t you?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Then why the urgency to get back?”

Alecsis glanced at Lorenso, wondering if he should tell Lorg the truth, that if he stayed, he would be a hunted man until the day he died. He was certain Lorg would never betray him, but something told him not to reveal too much too soon. Lorenso acknowledged his unspoken decision with a small nod. “I have seen most of what Avion has to offer. I now want to go home and find out the truth about my past. If we find The Crystal Rose do you want to join us? Your navigational skills will be of a great advantage. If anyone knows how to find the way home, you should. And I will pay you.”

Lorg smiled, a beaming grin that turned the lines around his eyes into a maze of creases. “I never thought you’d ask. Forget the money. I’ve earned more than enough diving for pearls. If you survived Captain Rose’s tyranny to become Avion’s greatest knight, then I would be honoured to join you in your quest.”