Han muttered to himself, “So the student has become the instructor.” He then answered, “We do all things to glorify the Creator. We pledge loyalty to the crown. We swear to protect the Fletching people and property. And above all, we forfeit our lives for the Royal Family.”
She nodded and told him, “Very good. I shouldn’t be too long.”
Pluck approached the three men like a dauntless Ghost Panther stalking the jungles. She deepened her voice as she spoke, “Is there something I can do for you gentlemen?”
One of the thugs barked, “No.” He turned, facing the cloaked stranger who had a gruff voice. The thug had a missing front tooth. He said, “Now why don’t ya mind yer own business and move on?”
Pluck parted her cloak, revealing her Accolade Sword as she told him, “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
“Matt, he’s a High Guard,” another thug voiced, assuming she was a he. “Crell... He’ll have our Fasses!” the thug exclaimed as he backed away from the cloaked figure.
“I think not,” Matt said as he placed his hand on the hilt of his bastard sword.
“Crell! What do we do?” the other thug questioned as he and his companion readied their maces, glancing around skittishly like Plains Rabbits.
Matt saw the ship load of High Guards watching them. Even if they took down the smug one in front of them, the rest’ll surely kill them. Matt spat on the ground and backed up, relenting as he said, “Our business here’s completed.” He turned, cursing and stomped down the dirt street as he barked, “Come on!”
Pluck watched the three men walk off and turned to the elderly couple as she asked, “Can I help you load your cart?”
“No thank you, kind sir. We’re grateful you came to our aid. Please...” The man handed her a wheel of cheese as he said, “Take this with our gratitude.”
Pluck nodded, took the yellow cheese, headed for the Breakneck, and boarded the ship. She found Han standing at the gangplank after he had loaded their horses into the stable of the lower deck.
“Didn’t even draw your sword, quite the beast,” Han told her as he glanced hungrily at the cheddar. “What are you going to do with the wheel?”
She grinned at his pun and at his apparent craving for cheese and told him, “You can have it.”
Han waved over a cabin boy and had the lad take the cheddar to his quarters. Han told her, “My thanks.” He motioned for her to follow him to a group of men. Four High Guards stood at attention as their commander approached. Each wore a white long sleeved shirt, brown leather pants, and a red cape with the Fletching insignia of a charging Black Elk pinned above their heart. Each was armed with a rapier and matching main gauche.
Han motioned to the tallest of the group and said, “This is Ardor, my Second. He’s the finest swordsman in the land.”
The long black haired man with a muscular build stepped forward. He was beardless and had a small scar under his right eye. Ardor said, “So this must be Pluck, the Guard you’ve been training in the North.” He looked over their newest member. What did Han see in him? Over the last few seasons, Han spent most of his time in the North. Was this High Guard better than him? He tightened his jaw. He was the Second, but he felt this newcomer would be in the running to replace the commander when the time came. He rested his hand on his hilt, thinking he would watch him closely.
“Yes, this is Pluck,” Han replied and then he motioned to a red headed man with a pointed beard. “This is Fracas, master of the bow and Head Archer.”
“Ah...” Fracas reached out, grabbed her gloved hand, and shook it as he said, “So... I’ve heard you’ve also split a few arrows.” Fracas would have to test his arm, pit his skill against Pluck's, and see if Pluck was as good as Han boasts.
Pluck returned the thin man’s shake as she said, “I’m nowhere near your skill.”
“Modesty.” A blond headed man slapped her back, nearly knocking her down and then he spoke, “We shall have to keep an eye on you.”
Han said, “This Forest Ox of a man is Parry and to his right is Sinew. He’s the silent one and our finest tracker.”
Pluck looked to the large muscular man with a blond goatee then to the last. Sinew was short, had a shaven head, and a long black mustache. She nodded to them.
Parry leaned down to Sinew’s ear and questioned, “So which initiation should we use to induct this one? The bloody sheep’s bag in the bed or the Night Prowlers Raid?”
“The latter,” Sinew answered, stroking his long mustache. “Why hold back?”
Parry nodded as he replied, “Good. The first night he isn’t on duty we strike.”
Han turned to Ardor and asked him, “Are we ready to set sail?”
“Yes, all of our men and supplies are loaded,” Ardor answered and then he headed for the Breakneck’s captain. “Let us see how long till her crew’s ready.”
The rest of the men headed for their stations as Pluck followed Han and Ardor up to the bridge.
“Waterswift has set sail for the mouth of the bay to scout for any of Commery, Swelldom, or Hort’s ships,” Ardor continued. “Two nights ago a Commery vessel was spotted. It isn’t likely they shall attack so close to the mainland, but one never knows.” He walked up the steps to the bridge as he said, “We await the prince’s arrival.”
“Then you wait no longer,” Edward declared as he stood at the top of the gangplank with Melee his personal guard behind him. The prince's disdain of King Stark’s orders was apparent on his face. His father forced him to leave his lovers behind. His father said it wouldn’t be proper to have them along on his wedding voyage. Not only would he have no companionship on the journey, but he was to marry a woman he’d never seen. What if she was ghastly?
Edward asked, “How long till we get this wretched voyage on its way?”
Ardor nodded to the skipper, and Captain Brine stepped forward and answered, “We shall set sail now, my lord.”
Pluck studied her prince and her childhood friend. Edward had changed; he was a man. She looked over his royal garb consisting of a blue silk shirt, white cotton pants, and a gold silk sash girded his waist. A large gold medallion with the charging Black Elk decorated his neck. He was a handsome man and this fact saddened her. What was she thinking? Why would he kiss one so monstrous as she? Even if it ended her curse, Edward doesn’t know her or remember her. Why did she get her hopes up?
“Very good,” Edward answered. “Have someone show me my quarters and bring along my things.”
“At once, my lord,” Brine said and then he shouted orders to his crew, and soon they were on their way.
A great wind caught Breakneck’s sails, pushing her over the blue-green waters. Sea spray moistened the cool air as Gray Gulls filled the cloudless sky. Pluck stood at a railing, looked at the ocean, and held on to her hood as the salty wind whipped at her face. She had never been out to sea before; it was a completely different world. Pluck felt a hand touch her shoulder, she turned, and she spoke, “Han.”
“I have assigned you to be one of Edward’s personal guards along with Melee. One of you must always be at his side.”
“I’m afraid to approach the prince, how can I be his bodyguard?” she questioned him as she glanced at the water. “I don’t think...”
“Then don’t,” Han interrupted. “This assignment shall give you a chance to get to know Edward. Maybe then he shall come to remember you and the pledge then once and for all, he shall shatter your curse.” He looked across the horizon as he spoke, “Till that happens, do your job and let time deal with forgotten memories. I have confidence things shall work out.”
“I don't know,” Pluck said. “Maybe it’s better I don’t get my hopes up.” She changed the subject by asking, “How many sun’s cycles till we reach the Morgog Kingdom?”
“Four. A lot can happen in that time,” he spoke to reassure her. “Seize the opportunities when they come.”
Chapt
er Four
Port of Pass
Lookouts searched the seas for enemy ships from their lofty perch in the crows nest. The sun’s cycle faded, and the air grew chilly as the cabin boy lit the ship’s lanterns. Night came, ever darkening the amber sky till there was no trace of the sun. The full moons crept over the ship, casting a ghostly glow on the dark ocean. In the distance and in the depths of the sea, Horned Whales sang their sad hypnotic song. Pluck had never heard such an enchanting melody. It made her homesick for Fairah, the Temple, and the night sounds of the forest. The sea was so different.
Pluck held her post outside the prince’s quarters as the first part of the night went by uneventful. She stood below deck, swaying with the ship with only her thoughts to keep her company. She muttered, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this. The floor’s never still.”
She nodded to Bulwark who passed her in the hall. Pluck remembered the old High Guard from her childhood and wished she could tell him who she was. He and Von had always been so kind to her. Pluck sighed, tapping her hilt as her mind drifted. Four sun’s cycles till they reached Morgog. What was Princess Virago like? Pretty, she assumed. Her mind returned to the ship and to the loneliness of her post. This was frustrating. Pluck didn't see how she and Edward would ever get to know each other if all she did was stand out there while he slept. Han needed to... The prince screamed and filled her thoughts with images of that fateful day in the Temple. She turned in a panic and went to his aid.
“Edward!” Pluck yelled as she opened the door and rushed in ready to draw her sword. She found him sitting up in bed breathing heavily. She asked, “Are you all right?”
“I am fine; it was a mere nightmare,” he replied as he looked to Pluck and noticed who he thought was a man wasn’t Melee. Edward said, “I do not know you.”
His words cut at her heart as she stuttered, “I...” She composed herself and said, “I am Pluck. I took over for Melee.”
Edward put a hand to his head and spoke, “That is right. Han spoke of this.”
Silence followed, so she broke the awkward moment with a question and asked, “What was it about?”
“Hmm...” he voiced as he examined the shadowy figure in the hall’s light. “What was what about and why are you wearing a hooded cloak instead of the High Guard cape?”
“I was asking about your dream,” Pluck replied as she took a few steps into the room. “As for my hood, it’s no disrespect to you. It hides my appearance; it’s quite startling.”
“When I was younger, one of the old soldiers wore a hood. His face had been maimed during the last Amalgamation. Is this the same with you?”
She replied, “I wasn’t maimed during an Amalgamation but yes, you could say I’m the way I am because I was defending the Fletching family. Now–” She walked up to his bed and questioned, “–your dream?”
“Nightmare,” Edward answered as he wiped his clammy face. “I have it every night. I see this horrible Beast that resembles a Necrom, and it is in the midst of a great battle.”
Horrible Beast? Pluck's heart fluttered. Was he dreaming of her?
Edward continued, “The Beast slays hundreds, but still it unwaivers. It screams like a Ghost Panther then the Beast turns, and I can see its piercing green eyes. It charges after me. I am afraid and cry out, and that is when I wake. The dream is always the same.” He turned to her as a glimmer of hope crossed his face and he questioned, “What do you think? I have asked many, but none can give me an answer.”
Pluck began, “Maybe the Beast isn’t horrible. Maybe she’s trying to tell you something. Have you ever tried not to fear the Beast and let her approach you? You know it’s a dream, so the Beast can’t hurt you.”
She? He never said the Beast was a he or a she.
Edward cleared his dry throat and said, “No, I have never tried to do anything in the nightmares. I do not know if I can. They are so terrible.”
“Not if you know they are made by your mind,” she said and then suggested, “Next time you have one, don’t fear the Beast. Let her approach you; it may be the only way to end them.”
“I shall try. Thank you. You may leave now, ah...”
“Pluck.”
“Yes,” Edward said as he lay back, grabbing his covers. “Close the door as you leave.”
* * *
Edward emerged from below with Pluck following. The bright sun shone through the clouded sky, and he squinted, putting his hand up to shade his eyes. Sailors were busy about their work as he walked up to the bridge, and Captain Brine had the helm.
“How do we fare?” Edward asked.
“Very well, my lord. We should arrive at Pass Island by late sun’s cycle,” Brine replied as he gripped the wheel’s spokes. “We shall add a few more supplies along with your presents for your bride and by tomorrow morning, we shall be sailing for the Morgog Kingdom.”
“Have any enemy ships been spotted?”
“No,” Brine answered as he pointed beyond the bow to a ship in the distance. “Wind Swift sails ahead of us. She signals every nal but has yet to spot a vessel. Most eerie, considering this is a trade route.”
Melee approached them, motioning that he would take over for Pluck. She nodded and headed below; Pluck had never been so tired. All the standing around doing nothing. She headed for Han’s quarters which he shared with her and Ardor. Pluck entered, finding both men gone and examined the bunks. How could one sleep in these small enclosed beds?
Pluck climbed into the top one and removed her boots and gloves. She unclasped her cloak, laying it to the side, and released her tail from around her waist as she exclaimed, “Ahh...” Pluck sighed and muttered, “More than a season of this. I don't know if I can do it.” She lay on her stomach, allowing her tail to twitch about. She missed running freely through the forest, she missed the Temple, and she missed Fairah. Pluck tried to sleep but couldn’t. There were so many new sounds and smells, and the ship swayed. Her eyelids gradually grew heavy, and soon she succumbed to exhaustion.
Later that sun’s cycle, she heard footsteps approach her cabin and quickly pulled on her cloak.
Ardor opened the door and he ordered, “Awake, Pluck. We dock in Pass.”
Pass was smaller than Heron but just as busy. Edward disembarked along with Melee and Pluck. She went along for extra security. They rode to the middle of the small island where a trader named Purveyor had gathered gifts for Princess Virago from the Five Kingdoms.
An old white haired beggar shaded himself under a Cobalt Oak near the trader’s store. His dull blue eyes stared off into the distance, and they were vacant as the shell that sat there. The beggar who was dressed in rags tilted his head as the three dismounted and he smiled, revealing his rotten teeth. He came to life like a stringed puppet, holding out his wooden bowl for coin. He pointed a bony finger at Pluck and yelled, “You... I know yer kind. You are touched...” he blared. “You are touched!”
“Sounds like someone else is touched,” Melee said as he tapped his head.
Edward chuckled and went into the store, leaving Melee to watch the horses.
Pluck paused, glancing at the beggar then at her tattooed finger hidden by her glove. What did he mean by her kind? She was alone in her curse. Pluck followed the prince in as she muttered, “Crazy beggar.”
Many oddities and rare gifts filled the shelves of Purveyor’s store. Weapons old and new were exhibited in display cases and hung on walls. Stuffed creatures, some of which neither of them had seen before, stood throughout the room and other trinkets laid about.
“Ah... Prince Edward...” Purveyor said as he approached them with his arms wide. He was a well rounded man and nearly as wide as he was tall. “Good to see you again.” He grabbed the prince’s hand, kissed his royal ring, and then said, “Come, come, I have the items you ordered. This way...” Purveyor led them to the back as he spoke, “Twenty bolts of Sol Silk, four doze
n Blood Pearls from the coast of Benin, Red Ivory, Black Diamonds, and the finest gems.” He pointed to crate after crate as he told them, “Here’s the Cobalt Silver, Fire-white Gold, and Ruby Glass.”
Pluck watched the trader closely, searching for signs he might attack the prince. She sensed he couldn’t be trusted, and the store made her uneasy. The scents of many dead animals filled the room, and she felt as if the fleshy statues watched them. They shouldn’t have done that to the animals. It wasn't right. Would they want their carcasses on display?
When they entered the back room, she felt a familiar presence, and it added to her unsettling sensations. She put her hand to her hilt as the low rumblings of a Woolly Tiger permeated the room. The prince and Purveyor didn’t hear the low roar. Her heart pounded. It was like that sun’s cycle long ago when she and Edward first entered the Temple. Pluck searched the room, but found no large cats, not that she thought she would. In a corner, a flash of metal caught her eye, odd since no sunlight broke into the room. The glint came from a sword. Pluck turned to Edward for guidance, but he was busy talking with the trader. She turned back to the weapon. Was she meant to see the sword?
Pluck walked to the hand and a half sword, grabbing the black scabbard and examined the strange markings adorning the leather. The steel of the handle was almost white like the hottest fire. She grabbed the hilt which had a large sphere pommel and a power throbbed through the grip like a pulse. The energy excited her, so she unsheathed the sword and felt a force flow through it almost like it was alive. She discovered that more markings engraved the blade and that it was exquisitely crafted. Pluck lifted the weapon, testing its weight, and it was well balanced. Delight swelled in her, and she had to have the sword. She smoothed her glove over the ancient lettering of the blade and spoke its name, “Lux the Lightning Sword.” Pluck was surprised she could read the archaic words. She sheathed the Lux and walked to Purveyor who was still trying to flatter the prince with his business prowess.
“You wouldn’t believe what I traded to acquire this Sol Silk. Cooking pots,” Purveyor started as he put his hand to his round belly and laughed. “Yes, now that was a deal.”