The Shadow of Dread: The Bladeborn Saga, Book Six, page 109
Saska baulked. “Me?”
“Aye. That blade you carry. Always wondered, but now I know.” He craned his neck to look back. “That’s Lorin’s Bane out there.”
Saska’s heart almost stopped in her chest.
Sir Lothar gave a queasy laugh. “It…it can’t be. That beast died forty years ago. The king killed it.”
“No. It was only wounded. And now it’s back for a taste of queen instead.” Burton waved them all away from him. “Go. Now. And stay away from the windows, girl. The Bane is mine, and I’ll have my vengeance. For Lorin,” he declared, closing a fist. “I’ll finish the job he started.”
Saska could not quite believe what she was hearing. Me. It’s here for me. She reached for her dagger, preparing to throw it away into the surf, but the Wall caught her arm. “It won’t do any good. It’s you it wants, not that steel.” He tugged hard, pulling her away…away from the rush of men on deck and the staring eyes of Robbert Lukar and down the corridor to her cabin. Some of the sellswords had gathered outside the door, sensing trouble.
“What’s happening up there?” the Surgeon asked. It was perhaps the first time Saska had seen the man look afraid. The Tigress was with him, and the Butcher and the Baker as well. “I thought I heard someone call out ‘kraken’.”
“You did. Lorin’s Bane has resurfaced.” Sir Ralston pulled Saska in through the door, and plonked her down into a chair. Leshie and Del and Jaito were still there. The Red Blade was cradling her bucket like a lover and her skin had gone the colour of curdled milk. She gave a groan and retched as Hammer lurched over another wave.
“What do you mean, Lorin’s Bane?” demanded the Baker.
“You heard me.” The Wall surveyed the sellswords. “Butcher. Tigress. Take guard at the window.” The pair looked at one another, scowling. Well, the Butcher scowled. The Tigress’s face rarely changed from that long-range, cat-like stare she had, a look that made her seem like the most formidable person in all the world sometimes. “Now. Draw your blades and watch the water. Baker, Surgeon, stay here in the cabin. Protect her. I’ll return when I can.” He marched back through the door.
The sellswords moved into position, the Butcher and the Tigress staying as far apart as the window-width would permit. Which wasn’t much. The Baker pushed his golden spectacles up his nose and then scratched his chin with a knuckly finger. “I thought Lorin’s Bane was dead.”
“It isn’t Lorin’s Bane,” the Surgeon dismissed. “It’s just another kraken.”
“The captain kills them for a living,” Del put in. His eyes were bright with fear, but that thought gave him some hope. “He’ll kill this one…won’t he?”
Saska nodded and smiled wanly, though she had great cause to doubt it. She’d seen the size of those tentacles and she’d seen the dead whale in the water. Joy came over to sit with her, putting her head in her lap. The starcat’s eyes were silver and slitted, anxious like she was. Saska stroked her head to calm her and hoped it would calm herself.
Her stomach was in knots. It’s here for me. Evil was being drawn to her, a dark to snuff out her light. The beast must have been lurking somewhere far below, awakened by her presence as the ship passed its drowned lair. It hadn’t been seen for forty years. Why else would it appear now if not for her, Lorin’s granddaughter bearing Lorin’s blade?
She stroked at Joy’s thick soft fur. I should take a rowboat out. If it’s truly here for me, no one else needs to die. The thought was fleeting. Even if she did that she was not so naive as to think the rest of them would be spared. The ship was rocking wildly now. Through the window she could see Blackthorn moving nearby, dark as night against the dread and dreary skies. The Butcher peered through the glass. “There’s something in the water.”
Others rushed over to look, the Baker and Del and Jaito all gathering around. Saska remained in her chair, stoking Joy’s head. She could not see through them all, but knew what was happening by the sounds they made, of fear and horror and awe. The Tigress was looking out too, hissing. Then suddenly there was a deep groaning sound, some primordial bellow coming up from below and Del gave out a sharp gasp. “Gods…gods…” he said, moving back.
Saska rose and went over, peering through them and saw it. The great bulbous body rising up from the water to wrap Blackthorn up in a net of tentacles. She saw them slithering out onto the decks, swiping men aside, saw them wrap and crush and throw them to their doom. They were thicker and longer than she could have imagined. Spears as thin as pins flashed silver against the strangled daylight as men hurled from the decks, and the few mounted guns that Blackthorn bore fired out in fury from the gunwales. She is a toy to it, Saska thought. Just a toy. The masts were torn down, sails falling in tangles of rigging. The waves between the ships rose up to block their view, then fell away again, and rose and fell, and each time the damage was worse. She could see bodies in the water, floating among the debris. There are hundreds of men aboard, she thought. Hundreds. They were all going to die.
All of a sudden Hammer swung to starboard, and all they saw was sea and sky. Saska backed away from the window. She could hear the shouting up on deck, hear the fury of the raging storm. Lightning flickered away in the distance and thunder sang its booming song. The ship turned again, moving to face a large incoming wave and they all braced and held on…all but Del who was thrown from his feet to land hard against the wooden floor. Jaito went to help him up. “He is hurt,” he called. “Help me get him to a chair.”
Saska hurried over. Her brother had hit his head against something as he fell. There was a gash on his scalp, oozing blood into his long black hair. They set him into a chair, bolted to the floor so it did not move. “Jaito, get a cloth for the bleeding.”
The young archer rushed off, tripping and falling himself as the ship bucked and lurched. He scrambled back to his feet, snatching a towel and returning. The Surgeon stepped over. “We must check for fractures.” He set about running his hands across Del’s neck to make sure the cut was his only wound, then nodded. “Sit him up.” He let Saska and Jaito do that as he wrapped the towel around Del’s head to make a bandage, his fingers working quickly, deftly.
The others were still at the window, calling out what they saw. “We are going to her aid,” the Baker said. “This Bloodhound is mad. He is attacking!”
What choice did they have? They were hardly going to outrun the beast and sometimes it was better to stand and fight.
“The other ships are coming too,” the Butcher shouted.
They could hear the bells ringing out above them, relaying orders. The Baker called out something about seeing more greatwhales out there, charging their foe. Leshie stood uneasily to her feet and cast her bucket of vomit aside. “They’re helping us,” she said, weakly. “They’ll kill it for us. They will. I know they will.”
Saska hoped so. Together they might overwhelm the creature, enough at least to drive it back down to the depths. She went back to the window. The ship was turning and she saw a flash of Blackthorn again, listing badly to one side as the monstrous squid dragged it under. From the decks above them she heard the call of ‘fire’ and dozens of harpoons and throwing tridents went flinging out toward it, to plunge into its enormous black bulk.
“They do nothing. Nothing,” the Baker proclaimed. He drew his sword. “We must go to deck. Our godsteel will cut it when it comes for us.”
“Brother. We protect the heir.” The Butcher put a hand on his shoulder.
“We protect her by killing it.” The Baker swept his brother’s arm aside and staggered toward the door, bellowing for Umberto and the Gravedigger as he passed outside.
No sooner had he left than he was replaced by Prince Robbert, who came surging inside, dripping wet, a dagger in hand to help steady himself. His eyes swept across the room and landed on Saska. “You’re Lorin’s heir?” he said. “That’s who you are? His granddaughter?”
Saska nodded. “I wanted to tell you.”
“You wanted to use me. Did you know this would happen? That monster outside…did you know?”
“Of course she didn’t,” Leshie shouted at him. “We all thought that thing was dead. Don’t be stupid.”
Robbert snorted loudly. “You should have told me. You should have told me who you are.”
“I was going to. Just now. Before…”
“You should have said earlier. You should have trusted me to know the truth.” He took a step toward her. Joy growled at his approach. “So you’re not just heir of a duchy, but a kingdom, is that it?”
“She’s heir to a demigod,” Leshie yelled at him. “We’re going to gather the blades, that’s where we’re going. To reforge them. Only Saska can wield that weapon.”
Robbert frowned. “The Blades of Vandar?”
“Yes! The Blades of Vandar! You think that’s easy for her to take, carrying that sort of burden? We’re all here to help her, and you should too. That’s all our duty, king or commoner. We’ll all lay down our lives for her if we must.”
“My men are dying,” Robbert came back. “They’re dying out there right now.”
“And you blame her for that?” Leshie snarled.
“No, I…”
“You lost almost all your fleet already and that had nothing to do with her. That’s the Ever-War. It’s the Last Renewal. It’s Eldur and it’s Agarath and Saska’s going to end it all…”
The ship bucked violently, throwing everyone to one side. Saska lost her feet, stumbling into the chair in which Del sat unconscious, grabbing on to steady herself as Leshie went flying into a wall. At the window the Butcher careened to the side, but the Tigress was there to catch him. Robbert and the Surgeon both fell as well, stumbling and tripping and standing up groggily.
On the decks the screams told their story. Lorin’s Bane had come.
Saska could not stay down here. She headed for the door, reaching for her sword, but Robbert lurched in her way. “No. Stay here.”
“I can fight.”
“Stay here.” He took her by the shoulders. “If all that’s true, we have to protect you. Stay here, Saska. You can’t be risked.” He met her eyes and made sure she agreed before turning and staggering away.
Leshie stumbled up behind her, taking her hand. “He’s right.” She sounded winded from her fall. “Come here. With me and Joy. Come here, Sask. This one isn’t our fight.”
It is my fight. It’s all of our fight. Saska let herself be drawn away all the same. She could hear the chaos above, glimpsed the tentacles moving past the window. A flash of lightning outside showed Blackthorn, sinking down into the depths in a tangle of sails and ropes and shattered wood. A whale was caught up in its rigging, dead. Hundreds of corpses bobbed in the surf like corks.
She squeezed up against the wall, knees tight to her chest, praying for it all to end. Men were dying on deck, screaming as they were crushed and swept away. A figure went flying past the window, shrieking and flailing his arms. She saw a tentacle arm swing out, saw a mast and sails go spinning away into the sea as men clung to the ropes and rigging. From one long arm black blood was raining from a savage cleave and she wondered if that was Rolly’s doing. He would be up there now, greatswords to grasp, hacking and cutting, but against that monster what could he do?
What could any of them do?
The ship heaved and moved again, trembling as the kraken brushed against it with its colossal weight, as though testing this new opponent, even savouring the kill. Joy nuzzled up close, trembling, and Saska wrapped an arm about her shoulders. The ship rocked again, shaken, and Saska squeezed her eyes shut. This is it. The kraken was going to gut them from below, tear through Hammer’s reinforced hull, and they would sink. He’ll take us all down to Daarl’s Domain.
Just like he did my grandfather, Saska thought.
A sudden shout rang out from the window and Saska opened her eyes. The Butcher was stumbling away in fright. Beyond him she saw a great eye appearing, large as an oxcart, an orange eye with veins of red and a black slitted pupil peering in through the glass. Joy arched her back and hissed and the Tigress hissed as well, but Leshie only screamed. There was something knowing in that eye, something yearning. It seemed to widen and dilate as he saw her, found her, and the dagger at her hip was pulsing.
Then suddenly the eye was gone, dipping away as Hammer moved again. And in its place the tentacle rose up…and she saw the giant suckers, red with blood and scraps of flesh, saw them opening and closing like a thousand little mouths, ringed with razor-sharp teeth, saw the great black arm slither up past the window, saw it lower and take aim, saw the tip point right at her…
“Down!” cried the Surgeon, seeing it too.
Saska had time enough to plant herself prone on the ground as the tip of the tentacle struck out, smashing through the glass and shattering the wooden frame. Splinters went flying everywhere. She saw the long arm reach out, the tip striking where she’d been, smashing right through the wall behind her…felt the suckers drop down to rest on her back, feeling, touching, tasting…
“Foul creature!” The Butcher roared and swung down with his sword, cutting deep into the thick black meat, black blood pouring from the wound. The Tigress hissed and leapt forward, hacking and cutting as the tentacle writhed like a snake, striking out fast and fierce. It struck Leshie in the chest, knocking her back, swept the Butcher’s legs from under him. The Tigress was knocked aside, smashed against a wall. The Surgeon shouted a wild cry and attacked, but the arm lashed and swatted him back with a sickening crack as well. None wore their godsteel armour. Without it they were defenceless. Saska surged to her feet and drew out her dagger.
“It’s me you want. Me! You leave them all alone!” she screamed.
The tentacle stopped writhing and went still. Its tip seemed to look at her, studying, cocking a little to one side. Black inky blood gushed from several deep cleaves, but they were nought but scratches to the beast. She held out her dagger, Varin’s dagger. “Is this why you’re here?” She moved it to one side, and the tip of the tentacle followed. “If you want it, take it. Take it!” she roared.
The tentacle coiled, bunching like a snake preparing to strike. She set her feet, ready to throw the dagger and move. The door was close. It was the only way out…
A flash of lightning burst alive outside, so close now, casting the broken wall of the cabin in a blaze of silver.
Thunder bellowed through the world.
The tentacle swung about, as though looking back out. It quivered, concerned, and all of a sudden retreated, sliding back out through the breach.
Saska frowned. Calacan? she thought. She had heard the tale from Talasha, how the eagle god had saved her. The golden lightning, the storm, but this lightning…it was silver. Through the shattered window a strong wind was blowing, and she glimpsed…up there in the skies she glimpsed a shape, a figure, passing down through the clouds.
Another strike cast away the gloom, bright and brilliant, and thunder roared its song. Through the storm and the rain Saska could hear the strains of men cheering out above her. She cast her eyes around the cabin. Her men were groaning, rising, maybe injured in some cases but alive. Joy loped over to lick her hand, but she shook her head. “Stay here. Stay with them.” She turned and ran through the door.
The main deck was chaos. The mizzen mast was gone, the main mast cracked and falling, the sails twisted and torn. Men were stumbling everywhere, moving between the dead and the dying, the decks slick with blood both red and black. The gunwales were smashed, the mounted scorpions broken, only a pair of them still operational to the fore. Out to sea, Saska glimpsed the shadow of Wild Raven being tugged away by the winds, but Blood Bear was nowhere to be seen.
And in the skies, a god.
She stared up at him in wonder. Beyond the kraken’s reach he floated, held in a cushion of curving air. Silver was his armour, blue his cloak, whipping with his hair, coal black like his beard. From his grasp was raised a long silver sword, embraced by a vortex of swirling mist. Above, the lightning gathered. Below, the kraken quailed.
The men were cheering his name. Saska felt the warmth of a tear snaking down her cheek as her eyes met his, lit silver like a star, radiant, brilliant, beautiful. She smiled and thought that he did too, as he jerked the Windblade yet higher, and then swung down with all his might.
The lightning followed from the skies. Down it came, striking Lorin’s Bane in his heaving bulk with a crack like the breaking of the world. The kraken gave out a trumpeting, otherworldly roar as the sparks zapped and crackled down its long thick arms. Smoke rose, fizzing and steaming. The beast quivered, thrashing out wildly as men ducked and threw themselves away as another strike was cast upon it, another bone-trembling shatter, another deep rageful roar and then suddenly the monster was in full retreat, its impossible bulk sinking into the turbulent waters, fading as it slithered back away to the depths. The long tentacles trailed after, one and then another and then another, until just like that the seas went still…and a deep hush fell over the world.
Saska stared up in silence. About her men were climbing back to their feet, crawling out from under broken sails and bits of debris. Elyon hovered above them, godlike, embraced in the power of the storm. For a short time he watched the waters, as though to be sure the beast was gone. Then slowly, heroically, he descended, drifting from the skies to land right there before her on the deck. The winds settled, and the glow retreated, and there he stood, older than she remembered him, broader, harder, stronger.
“My lady.” He went down to a knee before her.
She lost her breath. “Elyon, I…” She reached out to touch him to make sure he was real. “Stand, please, I don’t deserve…”
“You deserve everything.” He looked up at her, and something in his piercing eyes told her he already knew. “You deserve this.”
He presented the Windblade in his upraised palms and laid it down at her feet.
A shiver moved up her spine. She took a half step back, stopped. Others were gathering around. She glimpsed the Wall and the prince and others as well, and thanked the gods they still lived. She wanted to take Elyon’s hand and step away, go somewhere private away from everyone else, but no, it was time.
