Chapter Six
Water Demon
Two days later, they reached the sea town. Bane forced Mirra to walk beside his fiery steed, which horrified her. It radiated dark power as the demons had, making her ill just to be near it. Its molten eyes sought her often, its gaze repellent.
The coastal town clung to the beaches of a cove, straggling into the countryside, where cultivated fields nestled between low dry stone walls. The whitewashed, grey-thatched houses, like toys in the distance, sprinkled a patchwork of rich brown and vivid green. Beyond them, the sea broke upon a white beach, its deep blue edged with spume. This was a proper seaport. A long stone quay bordered the cove’s rocky side, where deep water came right up to the land. Warehouses lined the wharf, and several ocean-going ships were moored there.
At first, Mirra feared she would have to witness another slaughter, for this town was still inhabited, unlike those they had passed through since the fishing village. The people were prepared for the Demon Lord’s coming, however; bells rang and farmers fled into the town. Within a few minutes, ships headed out to sea, laden with the city’s erstwhile inhabitants.
The evacuation must have been planned and drilled, for it was achieved with remarkable speed. Bane cursed, and the demon steed leapt into a gallop towards the town, leaving a trail of scorched hoof prints. Mord swept Mirra up and ran after him, and the army followed with a great roar and rattling of weapons. The dark creatures burst from the woods, vampires taking wing to cross the cultivated land, their dark forms melting into the shadows of the buildings when they reached them.
By the time they reached the quay, the ships sailed away in the distance, the icy wind stretching their sails. Mord deposited Mirra near Bane, who sat on the stallion, gazing out to sea.
He dismounted and shot her a sour look. “Those fools will pay for this headache.”
The demon steed stepped back as Bane raised his arms, and Mord fled. Mirra backed away, her stomach clenched as the dark power oozed from Bane and licked over him in black flames. She stopped beyond its influence, and he gathered the power that flowed from him in rivers of shadow and send it streaking away across the sea with a flick of his hand. The bolt of darkness split as it reached the fleet, dividing into many streaks, each of which headed for a ship. Several vessels exploded in flashes of orange fire, the muted thunderclaps reaching her moments later. One bolt of shadow spread and settled over a ship in a foul mantle, like a black fog.
The Demon Lord’s hands twitched, his fingers moving in subtle motions. His ink-black eyes glowed redly, and his hair bristled, swirling as if in a spectral wind. For a time, nothing seemed to happen. Bane and the steed stood like statues, while the men who hid around the wharf muttered. The cloaked ship, however, was growing larger. Slowly, but gaining speed, it was being dragged backwards. Its sails, dim in the black fog, hung from the masts, and people ran around the decks.
As the ship re-entered the harbour, waves foaming at its stern, the passengers and crew dived off. Tar waterproofed its hull and pitch caulked its sun-bleached grey decks. Patched, yellowed sails hung from the spars amid sagging brown ropes. Gleams of copper and brass came from polished fittings and the broad bands that strapped the masts. On the bow, ‘Sea Bird’ was painted in white, but Bane had robbed her of her ability to fly before the wind.
Bane brought the ship alongside the wharf, booming against the rubbing timbers, and dispersed the black fog with a wave. By the time it cleared, only one man remained on board, standing beside the helm. The red-bearded giant, barrel-chested and brown-skinned, wore a sailor’s leather vest and loose cotton pantaloons. Leather thongs caught the trousers at the knee and crisscrossed his calves to the sturdy sandals on his feet. Bright tattoos decorated his brawny arms and chest, and he glared at Bane with icy green eyes, his broad, weather-beaten face set in a wintry expression.
Bane beckoned to Mirra, who froze, then obeyed when he frowned. He took her arm, ignoring her whimper, and towed her aboard. The captain watched him approach with narrowed eyes, a pipe clamped in his mouth. Bane was as tall as the giant, Mirra was surprised to note. Until now, everyone who had ventured close to him had cowered, and she had not been able to appreciate just how tall the Demon Lord was. His slenderness was misleading, for Bane had to be six and a half feet tall.
A slow, cruel smile curved his lips. The black had faded from his eyes, and bright blue met cold green. The captain drew himself up and puffed a cloud of smoke. He was the first man, in Mirra’s experience, who appeared unafraid of the Demon Lord.
“Good afternoon, Captain,” Bane said in a mocking tone.
The captain pulled the pipe out and blew smoke in Bane’s direction. “What’s good about it?”
“For you, not much. Your crew seems to have abandoned you. For me, lots. I have a ship, which I need to take me to the Isle of Lume.”
“Not my ship.”
“Come now, Captain, you are in a poor bargaining position.”
To Mirra’s amazement, the captain leant forward and poked a stubby finger into Bane’s chest. “I’ll not deal with the likes of you, sonny. You can go and burn in the Underworld.”
Bane chuckled. “How courageous of you, Captain. You have obviously deduced that if I need a ship, I also need a captain to sail her, and you would be right. However, there are many ways to make you co-operate, so do not try my patience. Do you know what this is?” He pulled Mirra forward.
The captain nodded. “A healer.”
“How would you like to see her suffer?”
“You can’t harm a healer, sonny.”
The Demon Lord smiled. “But I can. You see, she has almost no power left, so she does feel pain.”
“Is this true, healer?” the captain asked.
Sadly, she nodded.
Bane tightened his grip, and she winced as a little pain leaked through her blocks. “You see, Captain, I know you people revere healers, so you would not like to see her suffer, would you?”
“No. But neither would I like to have you aboard my ship, sonny.”
“Either way, you will take me to the island or someone will suffer, if necessary, more than one.”
“Healer?” the captain enquired.
Bane was patently amazed. “You ask her what to do? Her stupidity knows no bounds. I hardly think her qualified to give you advice, Captain. You would do better to quiz a seagull.”
The captain’s brows knotted further, but Mirra put a hand on his arm and said, “He will take your ship, one way or another. I am not afraid to suffer, and nor are you, but it would be pointless. He can use your ship without you. He just wishes to spare himself a headache.”
The captain’s belligerence subsided, and he nodded. “I’ll not argue that. But the crew’s gone.”
Bane said, “I have plenty of men.”
“Landlubbers.” The captain spat over the side.
The Demon Lord shrugged. “If a few fall overboard, what of it? I will bring some spares.” He signalled to Mord, who hovered within earshot, and the troll trotted off to select men. Many fled, and Mirra knew they dreaded being aboard the same ship as Bane.
His manner grew menacing. “One more thing, Captain; if you ever call me ‘sonny’ again, I will kill you. Understand?” He touched the man’s huge red beard, and it burst into flames.
The captain roared, beating at it as he staggered back. Mirra cried out and ran to touch him. Her power flowed so weakly that it did little more than stop the pain. As the last of it drained from her, she crumpled, and darkness slammed down.