Someone Else's Kingdom, BOOK I - Chapter 57

The Arbowlan and the Sleight continued homebound, hugging the coast as they went. The plan was to simply sail around the southern tip of Tunida and then head northwards, back to Brynnyfirdia. Essen, feeling the whole voyage was something of a wasted endeavour, was eager to carry out some fresh raids. To at least make the journey of some overall purpose. However, Acalee, too keen to keep mapping the coast, overrode him. Disappointingly the terrain so far had been rather unspectacular though. After the useful, but somewhat small oasis they'd watered their ships at earlier there had been nothing of note, and the ship's pilot was now eagerly pressing home how right he'd been about this fact. A fact that Acalee was slowly conceding. Still, he pressed on in the quest for thoroughness, much to the annoyance of other crew members.

Then something changed.

As ever, it began with another Tunida Bird. It landed, as was common, on the crow's nest of the Arbowlan, and then, not too soon later, was joined by another. The pair perched casually, hitching a ride atop the ship as it soared over the pale blue crests. As the brief novelty of staring up at these winged visitors wore off, two crew members, in contest, playfully scaled up the mast to give chase. Each racing the other. The creatures, startled, then spread their wings and took to the sky. The white wingtips of the birds, along with their orange-gold collars, being brightly visible above the two men as they climbed upwards. The sunlight illuminating their outstretched wings against the blue canopy. Before the men had dropped back down one the birds had darted off, southwards, into the desert. However, the other dropped with a thud to the deck. Essen had finally succeeded in spearing one with an arrow.

"You've done it now," cracked one of the crewmates, in teasing condemnation.

Essen reached down to pick up the bird, just in case it carried a Tunidan message, but before he had a chance to look another happenstance occurred. The sea appeared to open up port side of the ship, and what appeared to be an enormous bay or niche into the desert ever-so-slowly rolled into view. Soon the oceans currents changed. As the ship sailed further along, into this opening expanse it appeared more like an estuary. Acalee, excited by the unexpected change, gave order to keep going. Essen, equally intrigued, took a quick glance at the dead bird's spindly legs and seeing no ring casually tossed it overboard. They then signalled to the Sleight, which was not far behind, urging them to follow their lead.

The size of the opening seemed vast, and as Essen looked on he was impressed by the picture now before his eyes. The estuary didn't appear to taper into a bay or a river, but opened out more so. A huge channel of water, heading vaguely southwards, bearing out ahead of them. The ship's pilot looked on sheepishly, as Essen glanced in his direction. He then sensibly headed down below deck, keeping out of sight of the two half-cousins, whose appetites at this point were more whetted by discovery. Nevertheless, Acalee headed down below to fetch his chart. He then brought it back out onto the breezy deck and spread it across the wooden floor. Pinning it down firmly with his hands as it flapped in the wind. By now the entire crews of both ships were reflecting on their whereabouts. As Acalee tried to trace this new passage on the map, a crowd of crew members gathered round. Essen listening on as this rabble speculated about where this mysterious channel of water led. He looked out to the far horizon, captaining the ship into the unknown, as others peered down at the simulacra of it. To his left he could see the edge of the land: a parched brown sand that rose up from the water and into still more desert. Only occasionally being broken by exposed white rocks and small cliffs of mud. To his right all he could see was water stretching outwards, the far side of this vast opening being so heavily far from view.

He could also feel the increasing heat, and as he wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead he wondered how much warmer it would get. They were heading south after all. It had already been exceedingly warm as they had travelled the perimeter of the desert's edge. Now, as they sailed further into these strange waters the heat intensified. Some of the crew members speculated aloud, fearing, like the fabled crewmen accompanying the legendary Arbowlan himself, a fiery demise. Acalee, too, couldn't fail to note this heat as he plotted their journey - his sketches now breaking through the circle's edge marked 'ring of fire.'

"The water will begin to boil," noted one voice, pessimistically.

"The heat will kill us before we begin to see it boil," came another opinion, matter-of-factly.

Slowly a sense of panic descended. The dreamlike absurdness of the situation, seeming to contradict the known reality of the world, a struggle to process. Acalee tried to pour cold water on these concerns, but struggled to articulate it himself. The heat making it difficult to think. His slovenly thoughts, like a thick honey, sliding over the events much more slowly than they were occurring in actuality. Before he could check himself he was quickly snapped back into reality. Cannon fire.

The Sleight, which by now had tagged a little further behind the Arbowlan, was under attack, and had unleashed its cannons erratically in response. The shot had damaged one of the two Tunidan ships that had, to their surprise, followed them into the channel. Robbing their balmy, confused minds of the disturbing calmness. The cannon shot did little to deter the assault alas. As Acalee and the other Arbowlan crewmen responded to the noise, the Sleight was boarded - by dozens of men from the undamaged Tunidan ship, who quickly began putting the severely outnumbered Brynnyfirdians to the sword.

Essen, responding more quickly than Acalee, gave the order to turn around and head back up the channel. Their own cannons manned in readiness as they tacked ahead. The Tunidan ship that had been blasted by the Sleight was effectively immobilised. As it edged, sinkingly, towards the Sleigh, its men, heavy in their kit, dashed over to join the fray. Some jumping ship and swimming over to share in the glory, others waiting to clamber over the tangle of masts and sails. Their glinting swords drying quickly in the warm air as they entered the carnage. As the last of the Brynnyfirdian trespassers were bloodily cut down, the captain of the remaining Tundian ship made note of the approaching Arbowlan. He called back some of his men and pitched his ship forward. Hoping to ram and rout another foe. Yet his thoughts were quickly dashed. As the Arbowlan came creeping within range, Essen gave the order to fire a volley. The Tunidan ship was instantly ripped apart in several places. Essen then angled back round to finish off the wounded beast, this time from the other side. As they made this grand arc Acalee looked out across the sea through his scope. The Sleight was dead in the water, a bloodied mess, with little sign of resistance.

"Surely it's not because we killed the bird," quipped Essen, sardonically, as he briefly paused and took in what they were witnessing.

"You killed the bird," returned Acalee with equal dryness. He then turned round to bring the enemy ship back into his scope's sight. Essen lowered his arm, a second volley of shot rang off - catching Acalee off guard. He slipped backwards and fell to the ground; the looking glass careening across the deck. He quickly pulled himself up as shot and explosion rang in his ears. Looking back over the water unsteadily, the second Tunidan ship had been lost in a cloud of fire and smoke. It's ultimate destination the bottom of the murky channel.

Without lament the Arbowlan sailed on in readiness to deliver a similar fate to the other ship, which by now was floundering, almost completely devoid of crew. Then another thought crossed Essen's mind. The Sleight, now manned almost entirely by Tunidan soldiers, was in sailing condition and stocked with black powder. Acalee, ever more pragmatic, grasped the problem in tandem. "Even if a few of our men are still holding out, we'll be outnumbered if we try to save them. We'll lose both vessels; the powder, on both ships, will fall into foreign hands. We need to sink it."

As the Arbowlan soared within cannon reach of the two ships Essen struggled with the dilemma. Finally, with grimness etched on his face, he made the decision.

"Fire."

Cannon shot ripped through the Tunidan vessel, shredding it on the sea; leaving the Sleight unharmed. He then guided the Arbowlan in alongside the Sleight.

"Prepare to board."

Grappling hooks crossed the short chasm, pulling the Sleight closer in. The Brynnyfirdians raced hungrily across the divide, swords raised in hand. Essen, conducting things from the helm, pulled out his bow and started picking off enemies with terse accuracy. The smell of blood littering the ash that hung in the air. Acalee, tentatively, raised his sword, and followed in, unsure and panicked amidst the carnage. A crewmate ahead of him was cut down in a cruel instant. Then another fell to the floor. Paralysed and frozen in the moment he felt he could only move in a slow plodding motion. The cries and calls of the men, some screaming at him, an indistinct blur he was unable to process. Finally, he felt a forceful blow as a sword tip slashed across his cheek. Then another firm blow to his body, which sent him impacting into the hard wooden sidewall of the deck. An arrow from Essen's bow ploughing into his assailant. The force of the strike dropping the man dead to the floor with a heavy clatter.

Acalee brought his hand to his face and felt the wet of the blood running from his wound. Still in a dumbfounded haze he pulled himself to his feet, staggering, his sword still clutched hopelessly in his hand. As he took another step forward he felt another hit, this time on his shoulder, as if from some ghostly aggressor. In response he instinctively jabbed his sword forward. It pierced his attacker's stomach. At last his senses returned to him. In a flash of clarity the realisation came to him - if he didn't begin to fight his end was imminent. It was fight or die. He aggressively pulled back his weapon, and with a backhand swipe slit through his adversary's throat. The adrenaline now finally pumping he pushed his lifeless victim aside and headed on to join his compatriots.

Essen by this point had likewise dropped his bow and had entered the fray. A sword in each hand, fighting in close combat out on the deck of the Sleight. There were more dead than living as he stepped across the bodies. He slashed one adversary across the top of the thigh, then kicked him over the side of the ship. Another victim came at him. He swung around and severed the charging swordsman through the waist. Falling, he then brought his second sword down to his head. The body of the man thudding on the rancid wood.

As Essen charged on Acalee found himself alone on deck. The blood still rivering down his face. As he looked across the ship through his unclear vision he saw a fellow Brynnyfirdian under desperate assault, fighting hard near the prow of the ship. He charged across and pierced the Tunidan enemy below the rib. He and his fellow countryman then heaved the bleeding foe over the deck. They looked at each other with relief. Then, it suddenly occurred to them. Silence. The din of battle - the voices, the shouting, the clang of swords - it had completely disappeared. Anticipating more enemies they looked around, but it was over. Another bloodied, but intact Brynnyfirdian crew member came wandering towards them. Exhausted.

"Are we done here then?"

The man with Acalee shrugged his shoulders unsure. "I hope so."

Essen then came running up from below deck, accompanied by a younger crewmember from the Sleight, who likewise had a bloodied sword in hand, looking exhausted from the action.

"I think that might be it," noted Essen wearily. He then noticed the wound across the cheek of Acalee and wandered over to inspect it. "It's a bad one, you'll need to clean it." Then he energetically hopped back across to the Arbowlan, where he found another bruised, but intact Brynnyfirdian, lying dog-tired on the deck.

"Is it just you??" he asked the sole survivor, still shocked at the sheer scale of the death and slaughter they'd witnessed.

"I think so, ..we might wanna check below though, just in case."

With that the ship's pilot arrived up on deck.