* * *
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 dozen 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.”
Edward said, “One I imagine you shall pass on to the consumer.”
“Yes, of course, my lord,” Purveyor stated as his face paled.
“How much for this sword?” Pluck questioned as she showed the weapon to the trader.
“That sword...” Purveyor started as he eyed the prince, making sure he listened. “Now that is an interesting piece, though I am sad to say the blade must have rusted. No one has been able to remove it from its housing.” He rubbed his hands together as he said, “It would still make a nice piece to display if you’re interested.”
She told him, “I removed the blade without difficulty.”
“You must be mistaken. I should know. I’ve had that sword for many seasons,” Purveyor said, then turned to the prince, and stated, “See, I am an honest business man.”
“Is this so?” Edward asked as he glanced at the weapon, then faced the trader, and told him, “If the sword does not function, then it should be given away.”
“Given?” Purveyor uttered as if someone stole a precious gem from him. He couldn't bear the thought of losing money on a trade. “Given, you say?” he questioned again as he reached out his hand and said, “May I see the sword?”
She handed him the scabbard.
Purveyor grabbed the hilt, trying to remove the hand and a half sword, but it wouldn’t budge. He shook his head, studied its finely crafted handle and scabbard, and then sighed. He lifted the sheath with both hands, returned the weapon, and gave in to pressure as he said, “You’re right, my lord. I give this sword as a gift to your High Guard.”
Pluck accepted the scabbard as she said, “Thank you.” She strapped the sword over her shoulder so that the scabbard rested on her back at an angle. Pluck wondered if there was magic within the sword as there was magic within her. Why else could the trader not remove the Lux?
Edward removed several bags of gold and told the trader, “Our business is then concluded. Have the gifts brought to my ship right away. Here are a thousand pieces. You shall receive the remaining ten thousand once the items are delivered.”
“Yes, of course,” Purveyor said as he greedily took the bags.
“They shall be there within the nal.”
“Pluck!” Melee shouted from outside. “To arms!”
She entered the front room, drawing her rapier and main gauche, and looked to the prince as Edward drew his. They both rushed outside while the trader glanced out his windows. Melee had his weapons drawn on seven horsemen.
“You!” Pluck shouted as she pointed her sword at their leader. “You’re the one who harassed that couple at Heron.”
Matt bowed as he said, “I’m honored ya remembered me, it makes it easier. Ya know we have some business to satisfy.”
“Maybe,” Pluck spoke as she glanced at Edward then to Melee. “Why don’t we return things as they were? These two will leave then we’ll discuss our business.”
Matt laughed, revealing his missing front tooth as he replied, “No, they’ll stay.”
Pluck said as she stepped closer to the horsemen, “I don’t think you followed us all this way because I prevented you from stealing a wheel of cheese.” She demanded, “What’s your true purpose here?”
“Yes!” Edward spoke up. “Who hired you? Which of the Kingdoms? Commery, Swelldom, or Hort?”
Matt smiled like a Black-faced Jackal finding a carcass as he told them, “That I can’t tell ya.” He commanded his men, “Kill the High Guards, but don’t harm the prince at least not yet.” He slid off his horse as his men dismounted and three men started for Pluck. Matt ordered, “No, stand down. That Phragg is mine.” Matt drew his bastard sword and lunged for Pluck as he said, “Ya High Guards are so archaic.”
She deflected his attack and then questioned him, “Why do you say that?” Pluck countered with a volley of cuts.
“Ya have fallen behind the times. Look at the weapons yer using,” Matt stated after he leaped from the swipes. “Sure yer rapiers might be the finest in the land, but they’re useless against weapons like these.” He swung his bastard sword over his head and brought it down, breaking her rapier in half.
Shock seized her as the steel failed her, and she stared at the broken blade in the dirt. All those seasons she'd yearned to wield a weapon as fine as the Accolade Sword, and now she stood before seven Dreggs defeated in her first duel.
“See, I’ve proven my point,” Matt said as he readied his sword for another attack. “Now I’ll thrust it into yer heart.”
Her instincts took over, and she leaped back, landing on a boulder she had seen several feet away. She threw the hilt of the rapier to the ground and stared at her main gauche.
Matt yelled at her outraged, but then he grinned and said, “Yer very agile, High Guard, but yer still without a weapon.” He lifted both hands, declaring, “And outnumbered.” He charged the boulder.
Pluck ran for a Lofty Pine, scurried to its lowest branch, and crouched on all fours, studying the situation. She wanted to scream at the Dregg, but she had to control herself and keep the Beast within her reined.
“Come down here and die like a man,” Matt ordered, cutting into the tree with his sword. The blade wedged into the wood, and he couldn’t disengage it. “As soon as I get this free, I’m coming after ya.”
She ignored Matt, looking to the three men watching them, then to the two fighting Melee, and finally to the one attacking the prince. Pluck could remove her cloak, and her appearance might frighten the Dreggs into running, but it would kill her chances at ending her curse. Pluck reached up and grabbed her hood as she glanced at the prince. Could she let her selfish reasoning jeopardize Edward’s life?
Moments seemed like nals as Pluck pondered her next action. Edward and Melee fought courageously as she stood idle. Pluck decided she had to then as if the wind carried the sound from a distant land, she heard the Woolly Tiger’s roar. Pine needles rustled as relief swept over her for there was hope. Pluck sheathed her dagger and moved her hand past the hood to the pommel of the hand and a half sword. She'd almost forgotten about the Lux.
“What’s wrong, High Guard?” Matt asked as he grunted to free his weapon. “Ya look lost. Are ya as fragile as yer sword?”
Pluck leaped over his head, flipped, and landed on her feet. She unsheathed her new weapon and thunder rumbled from a cloudless sky.
Matt’s toothless smile faded as he exclaimed, “Crell! Yer not weaponless!”
Purveyor watched from a window and uttered, “By Fletching! How did you remove it?” He remembered himself and covered his mouth, hiding again in the shadow of his store.
The thug fighting Edward forced the sword from the prince’s hand and then he said, “Matt, I have him.” He placed the tip of his blade to Edward’s throat and blood trickled down the prince’s neck.
Pluck held her breath. They couldn't kill him. She had to save him, but how?
“Easy there,” Matt commanded his man. “We aren't paid to spill royal blood.” He turned his attention back to Pluck and ordered her, “Drop yer sword.”
If she did, there was no chance for them. Pluck had to taunt him into a fight, so she shouted, “Are you afraid to meet me now that I’ve a weapon that matches yours?”
Matt’s men looked to him; even the ones fighting Melee glanced back to see how he would answer.
“Fass! I fear no man!” he declared. “Least of all yer petty attempts to sway me from my job. Men, let’s go. We have what we came for.”
“No!” Melee shouted, trying to get past the two he dueled to reach his prince, but they prevented him. One broke through his defenses, cutting him across the arm. Melee dropped his rapier as blood ran from his cut, spotting his white shirt, but the injury to his arm was slight.
Pluck watched horrified and her terror turned to rage as she felt a rumbling. At first she thought the ground shook then she realized her sword quaked, shaking her with its intensity. She feared the Lux's might and yet relished in it. Pluck lifted the sword, and lightning crackled from the blade, ionizing the air around her. She felt the sword’s energy surge through her arm and roared, enthralled by its vigor as she yelled, “It has so much power!” Pluck placed her other hand to the hilt to control its rampage.
“Ah... Matt, what the Crell is that sword doing?” one of his men asked.
“Fass! Don’t know.”
Pluck rushed Matt, then engaged him, and each time her blade met his steel lightning flashed and sparks flew. She furiously attacked, not giving Matt a chance to counter. Her fierce onslaught forced the leader to the ground, and his men came to his aid even though they were afraid of the mystical sword. Pluck turned on them and when they lifted their swords and maces against her, she swiped across the weapons and cut them in half. The loyalty they had for their leader weakened for fear and the bandits fled, leaving him behind. Matt scurried back to a boulder like a frightened Borough Rat.
She leveled her sword on him, controlling the rage screaming to cut him down. Through labored breath and gritted teeth, she questioned, “Who sent you?”
“I... I can’t tell,” Matt quivered out as he put his hands up, shielding himself from the electricity crackling around the sword. “They’ll kill me.”
Her Ghost Panther growl made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as she asked him, “What do you think I’ll do to you, Dregg?”
Matt uttered, “What are you?”
Pluck grew impatient and growled again as she demanded, “Answer my question!”
“I will!” he whined. “Don’t hurt me.” He glanced around and then told her, “Yer right, one of the Kingdoms hired us.”
“Which one?” Edward demanded as he neared them. “Tell us!” He put a handkerchief to the cut on his neck.
Matt started, “It was the...” His brownish eyes widened as he grabbed his chest, gripping a dart that struck him. “No,” he gasped. “I wasn’t going to tell,” Matt screamed. “Crell!” He looked to them for help and realized they couldn’t save him, so he shouted at them, “All of ya can go to Crell!” He balled up and muttered, “The pain... Dreggs! A curse on Fletchi
ng!” Blood ran from his nose, then he twitched in agony and died.
Melee and Pluck quickly surrounded the prince.
The old beggar under the Cobalt Oak chuckled, then made the sign of evil by lifting his pinky and pointer finger, and aimed the warning at them. He said, “I can’t allow you to gain the answer to that yet.” He stood, holding a small blow gun in his other hand.
Melee charged him as he yelled, “By Fletching! I’ll wipe that smile from your grubby face.”
The beggar laughed again as his demeanor transformed from a pitiful poor man to a venomous warlock as he spoke, “Fools...” His appearance changed along with his clothes as his gray hair grew and transformed into a wolf’s head headdress. His dull blue eyes turned dark as midnight, his rotten teeth to gleaming fangs, a wolf’s fur robe replaced his rags, and a long, pointed, inky-black goatee sprouted from his chin. He told them, “You cannot harm me.” He turned before Melee reached him and disappeared into the oak like a ghost.
“Witchcraft!” Edward spat, enraged he wouldn’t have his answer. “Which of the Kingdoms would use the forbidden arts?” He scratched his chin and then questioned, “Was he a Necrom?”
“I don’t know, my lord,” Melee replied as he returned to his side. “But we better venture back to the Breakneck. I am still concerned about your safety so far out here from the others.”
He and the prince headed for the horses as Pluck stared at the Cobalt Oak. Was he a Necrom? He didn't have the appearance of a Necrom; he looked human. The warlock didn't look like her at all, but he did use magic. Being a wielder of the dark arts, could he know what she was? This assumption frightened her. What if he told the others before she had a chance to? Her lips quivered in the shadow of her hood. What if the others cast her out? She bit her lip, watching the prince as she muttered, “What if Edward forsakes me?”