Yethyr called an awkward all-ships meeting. They got The Finrider and The Wily Seal as close to each other as was safe without slowing down and shouted at each other the rest of the way. Everyone was talking over each other, theorizing and advising and fretting and some people weren’t even discussing the problem at all.
“I don't know what to tell you, Hegrir,” Vezemar said, as nonchalant as one could manage while shouting across the water. “We haven't had any problem with rats over here.”
“Be quiet,” Yethyr hissed and people fell silent. “We are being followed by Flazean ships and they are gaining. Whoever they are…they know how to sail.”
“It can’t be the hunting party,” Dath said. “They wouldn’t know how to sail. Do you think the Flazeans are sailing to seek vengeance for the attack on their town?”
Tular shook his head. “More likely the Hunting Party enthralled the Flazeans they could and are forcing them to sail for them.”
“I hope not,” the Prince said. “That is in direct violation of the Tribute Pact my father put in place with Flazea. Such insubordination is grounds for me to execute them, in my father’s name.”
“And if they are doing this under your father’s orders?” Grokar muttered.
“That is out of the question. There is no reason to attack a divine hunt he mandated.” Yethyr frowned. “Frankly, there is no reason to attack us at all. This host’s actions defy comprehension. Perhaps there is some gross misunderstanding?”
“Ask them,” Jaetheiri shrugged. “We’ll find no answers in argument among ourselves.”
“Getting near them for any reason is folly,” Kvelir said. “You saw how many there were. We need to run and never look back.”
Grokar scoffed. “If those ships really are being sailed by Flazeans, we have no chance of outrunning them.”
“Not necessarily.” Kvelir looked to Nisari. “Aeromancer. You can make us go faster, can’t you?”
Nisari shrugged. “I may. My test was rudely interrupted by needless fuss. They’re chasing us, whoever they are, and by Maethe’s will alone, they will catch up or not, and we will gloriously kill them or not. It’s pointless to fret.”
“Pointless! This is a test from Maethe herself,” Yethyr cried, “and it is possible to fail.” He addressed the group. “We will attempt to outpace them until we find an advantageous location to confront them. Massively outnumbered, on the water, with experienced seamen potentially in their thrall, it would be foolish to turn and face them now.”
He turned to Nisari. “Command the wind to carry us, Aeromancer.”
Nisari snorted. “One does not command the wind to do anything.” She wandered off. “But I shall put up more chimes suggesting urgency.”
“Urgency indeed,” Yethyr said to the rest of the group. “We need to ascertain how far away they are and by how much they are currently gaining.”
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
“I may have just the tool, my prince.” Tular rummaged through a pack and withdrew a strange tube. “I got this from the Cozzat Grand Hunt. They call it a ‘spyglass.’ It makes things appear closer than they are.”
With Yethyr’s permission, he clamored up The Wily Seal’s mast and peered through his spyglass. Fortunately for him, our ships had been steadily going upriver and uphill. The ships following us were much further down and so with enough vantage, Tular could get a clear view. The boats below probably could not do the same back at him.
“What do you see?”
“Nine ships, which must be all the ships from the Flazean docks we didn’t take. There are hunters in Brinn armor on the decks.”
“Can you see any flags clarifying who’s hunting parties these are?”
“Not that I can see.”
“Are Flazeans doing the sailing?”
“It looks like it.”
Wrath bloomed in Yethyr's mind.
“So they did break the King’s Tribute Pact,” Jaetheiri murmured in surprise.
“It is in contempt of my father and his rule and I will not stand for it!” Yethyr commanded thralls to get him the longest spare rope on the ship and holed himself in the captain's quarters.
Nisari unleashed her chimes. Their grating sound could be heard throughout all of the ship. The wind that flowed through them was almost just as loud. It was so strong that people feared being blown off the ship and soon, everyone holed themselves in their quarters. Only Nisari and thralls necessary for the sailing of the ship were forced to endure the windswept decks.
And Kvelir, I could hear him cheerfully giving orders on the deck of The Wily Seal, laughing whenever the water sprayed his face.
He was the only Brinn hunter who actually loved being on the ship.
No one else did. Especially now, when the boats were practically flying on the water. The wood of the hull creaked and shook at the strain. Many hurled up their morning breakfast from the shaking.
But they had gotten what they wanted. They were moving fast. Mandorias even thought they could potentially reach Lake Huldrai by midday. They could not say if they were gaining distance between themselves and the chasing hunting parties. No one was brave enough to climb a mast in that wind to check.
So, they waited. I could hear Dath sneak into Tular’s cabin as her brother was praying. I could hear many praying, to Maethe and to her various different heavenly teeth. The Conquering Fang. The Poisoning Fang. The Snarling Fang. The Roving Fang. It went on and on. How many teeth did this dreaded angel have?
Yethyr opened his jar of black wyvern blood and tried to paint deathsong notation on his collected rope, but after the motion of the ship shook his brush, he hastily put it all away.
He knew and I knew that he had almost misdrawn notation that could kill the whole ship.
“We’re in trouble, Jaethe,” he hissed under his breath. The Prince did not want his other guards to hear him. “I can’t prepare any necromantic compositions while the boat is rocking this badly.”
“You can’t make the Death Circle trap?” Jaetheiri whispered back.
“My hands aren’t steady enough.” He sighed. “Makes one admire the Datrean tradition.”
“Can’t you just…tell them all to die? If you use Aesherri’s loud horn, they’d certainly all hear you”
“Yes, and everyone else too. With such a wide dispersal, I’d almost certainly slaughter our party as well.”
There were cries of panic from above. Yethyr rushed to the deck, figuring that another thrall had fallen overboard. The current count was three already, but this time, Yethyr was faced with a much different issue.
They were approaching a bend in the river.
The thralls were inexperienced sailors. They could just barely turn the boat at a normal speed. At the pace of wind, they had no way of turning in time.
We all were going to crash into the riverbank.
Thank you so much for reading! What did you think? I love comments and often respond to them.
Reminder that the schedule is Tuesdays and Fridays. See you guys on Tuesday!
Do you think King Yevvar knows about the Brinn chasing Yethyr's Hunt Party?
