“Pater,” Navarra repeated softly, but still the young man jumped. “You know what I want.”
Pater swallowed, finding it hard to take his eyes from the grizzly scene before him. Navarra reached up and placed a hand on his chin and slowly moved his face so the man’s eyes met his.
“Pater, where is Afton Sath?”
“He…he,” Pater stammered still distracted by the sounds coming from behind him. Pater stopped talking for a moment.
“I will let them have you next Pater.”
“I don’t know for sure,” Pater answered and Navarra clucked his tongue.
“He’s in the mountains somewhere around Koshka,” Pater said hurriedly. Navarra smiled at the confirmation. At least Thomas Fultan had not lied to him.
“And just what is he doing in the mountains around Koshka?” Navarra asked and Pater looked at him for a moment as if he couldn’t believe the question.
“Raising an army,” Pater answered.
“And have you perhaps seen a girl pass by this way?”
“A…a girl?”
Navarra smiled again, knowing immediately this man had not crossed paths with Samantha Fultan. He reached out and grabbed Pater’s left arm. He held it in place with a strong grip, as he slowly sliced through the man’s neck. Navarra reveled as Pater’s shock quickly turned to fear and panic. Navarra continued to watch, a smile never leaving his face.
“Thank you Pater,” Navarra crooned and stood, completely oblivious to the thrashing and kicking of the dying young man. He went and collected Chaos and rode back up along the path. He whistled and at once Vesania and Furia stopped feeding and trotted over to their master, blood and gore still clinging to their jaws.
?
Gwaynn grabbed his bags and prepared to board the Carol-Anne, waiting patiently for it to be pulled close to the docks. Jon, as always, supervised the entire process. Krys waited expectantly on Gwaynn’s right and on his left stood Vio, Tar Nev, and finally Tar Kostek. Tar Amon was away at the moment on the Isle of Light.
Gwaynn could feel Vio’s disappointment as if it was a physical thing, or perhaps it was his own disappointment he was feeling, not only for having to leave behind friends but also his teachers. Tar Nev had told him two days prior that he would not be going and would return to his isolation. Gwaynn was surprised, somehow he always envisioned Nev being with him, teaching him, but Nev was adamant that there was little more left to teach, and what there was, Gwaynn could learn on his own.
“I’ve been out in the world too long as it is,” Nev had said. “It’s distracting me from my thoughts.”
Gwaynn did not acknowledge the statement; he just sat silently with his former teacher.
“If you ever truly need me, however, I believe there is a Speaker in Cape. Send word and I will come.” Nev added and smiled.
As soon as the ship was within range the plank was fitted into place, Gwaynn stepped forward, but then stopped and turned to face three of the most important people in his life. All three stared back, two with obvious pride and the smallest with a hint of sadness.
“Take care,” Vio said stepping forward. She kissed him on the cheek, not wanting to do anything else in front of her Tar. “Stay alive,” she added, as he buried his face into the crook of her neck for a moment but then reluctantly withdrew.
“I’ll come back for your Tarina ceremonies,” he answered.
“Be careful,” Kostek and Nev said as one. He shook both their hands.
“Remember you are not invincible,” Nev warned with a worried look. “Recklessness will be your worst enemy. Underestimate no one.”
Gwaynn nodded, and then turned and made his way aboard, Krys by his side.
“I still have trouble believing I’m going home,” Krys commented as they stood by the rail and watched Jon Baal’s crew unload a few crates of goods, while loading still others. It did not take long for it was not a planned trading stop.
“I’m not sure it will feel like home to me,” Gwaynn answered. He was having reoccurring reservations about returning to Massi. He had strong doubts that he would have even left Lato had it not been for the consistent attacks aimed at him while he was on the islands.
When all the goods had been transferred, Jon came by. “All ready Master Gwaynn?” he asked, his face showing just a touch of the constant smile that resided there.
“We’re ready,” Gwaynn answered, then realized now there would be no going back.
Jon gave the order and the gangplank was pulled aboard and stowed, and the ship was nudged away from the dock until it floated far enough away for oars to begin the work of moving the Carol-Anne. Gwaynn and Krys continued to watch their friends and teachers slowly recede as they put more and more distance from them and Noble Island. Gwaynn stood by the rail until at last he saw Vio and the others turn away and begin walking from the pier.
Gwaynn immediately turned to Jon. “Jon, I would like you to take us to Heron,” he said.
Jon looked at him surprised and Krys joined him, though Gwaynn’s new Weapons Master said nothing. “Not Cape?” Jon asked.
Gwaynn shook his head negatively.
“Heron has a much stronger Deutzani presence,” Jon warned.
“Yes, but they will not be looking for me,” Gwaynn explained. “And if, by chance word has gotten out from Noble of my destination, as it has in the past, then I will be landing in a far different location.”
Jon nodded. “Clever boy,” he said with a smile. “But you will still need a bit of work fitting in with the local crowd. I’m sure we can round up some old sea clothes that would be a bit less conspicuous than the outfits you have on.”
Both young men were wearing the gray trousers and capes, which were trimmed in the royal blue of Noble Island, along with long white cotton shirts that were cinched at the waist with a strong leather belt that, in turn, held their kali.
“And you will be needing to hide those,” Jon said, nodding toward the weapons. “They are strictly forbidden for any but the Deutzani in Massi. I will get you to Heron; you see that you live through the landing.”
Gwaynn took a deep breath and nodded back to Jon, grateful for the information and advice. They both watched as the big man moved down the ship. He walked about with grace despite the rolling of the deck, the seas higher than normal, and headed to the stern where he would guide the Carol-Anne toward its new destination.
Gwaynn led Krys to their small cabin, which was located below deck, in order to stow their belongings. Toward the middle of the second deck there was another ladder which led to the mid-oars and eventually down to the lower oars. Gwaynn led him to the rear holds, however, near where the Captain and officers slept. Their cabin was larger than Krys expected, but was still cramped and both had to stoop so as not to bang their heads on the low ceiling.
“Heron will be well watched,” Krys said, though he was not overly worried about arriving at the port. “But we shouldn’t have much trouble, though you’ve added a few miles to our trip overland,” he added and placed his bag in a corner.
Gwaynn nodded. “You’ve warned Paulo of my arrival?”
During the break between sessions, Krys had returned to Massi as ordered. He had stayed with Paulo and Karla for a few days before moving on to his own home. In all he’d only stayed in Massi for two weeks before returning to Noble. “Yes, but I’m not sure he will be expecting you so soon. He may not have heard word from Master Sath yet.”
Gwaynn shrugged, and dropped his own bag next to Krys’. He moved his feet wider apart as the ship rolled. The rolling seemed to be getting more severe. “That can’t be helped,” he answered. “Once we’ve gathered horses and supplies we’ll move to the south and try to contact him.”
Krys rubbed his hands through his sandy blonde hair, and took a couple of steps back as the ship rocked again. They frowned at each other, then as one, moved to the door and up onto the deck. There were gray, fast moving clouds overhead, which steadily grew darker toward the southwest. They moved carefully to the wheel,
