Chapter Two: Swim

When Antonio was certain they were safe, and the contingent searching for them were out of earshot, he released Eóghan from his grasp.

“In the name of the gods, what is happening!” He was tempted to strike Antonio, but stopped, as he reminded himself that his master had rescued him twice now.

“Calm yourself, Eóghan,”

“I am calm!” Eóghan took Antonio’s advice and allowed himself to settle, “Explain, Barlough. What is going on here? Why were we attacked? No, before you answer that, start at the beginning, where did you disappear to?”

Antonio stood, and took in the room, spreading his arms, motioning for Eóghan to see where they were. They were in fact in a changing room of a brothel, among nearly a dozen young women. They stared at the two men, quite modestly, perhaps afraid their motives for being there were treacherous in nature. “Ladies,” Antonio said with a reassuring smile, and a wink, before he turned back to Eóghan, “As you can see, here and now are neither the place and time for such a discussion. I have made preparations to sail for Tazuma. We need to leave immediately.”

Now Eóghan stood, having fully regained his strength and breath, and he averted his eyes before the two men exited the bordello. They were on the street, but Eóghan felt exposed, and perhaps Antonio did too, he thought, as his master did stand above much of the population. He was glancing around wildly, even at some of the stands he had knocked over around the corner. There, it appeared they had caused a large enough commotion for them to wander back through. As inconspicuously as he could, Antonio grabbed an expansive brown leather hide and draped it over himself, and simultaneously gave Eóghan a similar shawl. Together, they kept to the shadows of the narrow lanes, as the afternoon drew upon them.

As they crouched evasively through the city toward the landing, Eóghan asked Antonio, “What happened to you? At dawn you had gone without a trace. It would not normally bother me, since I’ve lived most of my life as a slave,”

“But you’re intrigued,” Antonio interrupted with a smile, “I assume that was why you couldn’t keep your head down. Why you picked a fight with the Boar.”

“We fought the Boar?” replied Eóghan incredulously.

“Well, I fought him. I killed him. But yes, Dravus was the Boar. It wasn’t part of the plan, but I feel we’ve done the people of Lalifen a service. Of course, it won’t be long before someone takes his place.”

“What do you mean, not according to plan?” Eóghan asked, trying to keep his voice hushed as they hurried along.

“Are you absolutely sure you need to know all of this right now?” Antonio asked, pausing for a moment against a stone wall, waiting for a handful of guardsmen to pass.

“Yes!” Eóghan foolishly exclaimed, causing a few unwanted glances. Eóghan had nearly forgotten they were still being hunted, and he had been leaving the task solely to Antonio. He repeated his answer more mutedly, “Yes. Or you will find yourself alone on the rest of your journey.”

Antonio seemed wary from the start about telling Eóghan any part of his plans, and rightly so, but if he was to continue with the mighty Lord Barlough, he deserved to be made privy to certain important details. It looked as though Antonio calculated just that in his head, and he nodded, but never looked  Eóghan squarely in the face, always keeping an eye out for danger.

“Very well. Kartak has charged me with the protection of this realm. Aurlom. I have trained for this mission for over six centuries.”

Stifling a laugh, Eóghan replied, “How facetious of you, but are we not short on time?”

The response was merely the raising of his bushy eyebrows and a sigh, as if he expected such a reaction; as if there could not have been any other reaction, and Antonio refused to dignify such a one any other way. He continued on, while Eóghan stood momentarily dumbstruck.

After Eóghan had caught up, he had no shortage of questions of Antonio, and it seemed that every answer he received brought up more and more questions.

A pair of stragglers came out from one of the warder towers, both of them no older than fifteen, ran in their over-sized armour, one of them still rubbing his eyes, after sleeping on the job. As tall as he was, and wearing a cloak to hide, Antonio somehow managed to look natural, as though he belonged leaning against a wall. When Eóghan saw the guards he turned away and looked down to hide his face, but perhaps he was too quick in his movements, that he was overly conspicuous, and both boys stopped, and approached him.

“Excuse me,” said the tired one, “You! Get inside, curfew is in effect.”

Unfortunately, Eóghan didn’t know how to reply to this, and didn’t answer. They both came alongside Eóghan, and before they got a look at his face, Antonio intervened, “Alright lads, get to your duties; I’ll handle this,” referring to his squire. He stared down the youths with his intense stare, in the hopes his confidence was enough to send them on their way. Alas, it was not.

“And who are you?” asked the slightly more alert guard, as he reached for his sword, intimidated by the man twice his size.

“Boys, scurry,” urged Lord Barlough.

“Mind your place, peon,” replied the guard boldly.

Antonio sighed, “Just remember I told you to run.”

A split second later, he grabbed both of their heads and knocked them together, and with force enough to knock them out, not crush their skulls. The guards crumpled to the ground, armour a-clatter. Eóghan was watching the entire time, and was far from expecting such an outcome. “I’ll have to remember that for later,” Eóghan declared.

“Yes, and remind me to teach you a few things about stealth.” said he while easily dragging both guards by their feet towards an open window, and then carefully folding them in half before dropping them on the floor.

“How old are you?” Eóghan quizzed.

“I have 680 years to my name, Eóghan, and believe it or not, I would like to continue that streak. So, if we are to get onto my charter, you must do everything I say, and remain completely silent until we are aboard. Do you understand?”

He hadn’t realised that Antonio had led him all the way to the harbour so soon, and in impressive time. Unfortunately, the jetties were all under watch by a detachment of the Duke’s guards; men were searching every vessel. When Eóghan returned his gaze, he nodded in agreement to Antonio’s demands.

“Alright, would you care to be the fish or the lark?”

“I’m not entirely sure to what you may be referring.”

“The Nameless. Do you remember it?”

“Of course. Better than you know,” Eóghan replied, “However, I still am not certain to what subject a fish or a lark pertain.”

Lord Barlough escorted Eóghan to the edge of the water, the waterside, and he pointed to the destination before giving a quick final instruction, “Be unseen, be unheard, make haste.”

Ere another word from Eóghan, Antonio shoved the young man into the water, the splash too far away to be heard by any guardsmen, and then he set off for the marina, where he would draw attention to himself.

Being muscled into the sea, or rather, the slop, was a clear enough message, but what Eóghan was meant to do once he had swum to the Nameless, was not self-evident. From what he had seen, the boat was crawling with guards, while some of the others had been torn apart in search of him and Antonio. How are we supposed to take the ship with guards aboard? Eóghan’s lungs were starting to hurt now; the distance from the shore to the end of the pier, where Antonio’s charter was anchored, was much further than anticipated. He could be quiet in the water, but it was difficult to maintain his speed, and remain breathing all at once.

He was nearing the marina now, and being in such proximity, made his undertaking slightly more precarious. Eóghan surfaced for air, though a small splash gave away his position. He saw a guard turn his head, and immediately he dove under, without sufficient air, doing his best to swim away, under such a circumstance, fortunately in polluted and murky water, hoping the ripples he made wouldn’t give the game away either.

When no arrows were fired, or other guards jumped in to seize him, Eóghan assumed he had avoided being seen, and he continued, inevitably slowing, though worked to his advantage.

Simply floating in the water was a ship with no name on the hull. The Nameless. The caravel was relatively small to possess its three lateen sails which were a dark crimson, so deep and stained by time and weather it in fact seemed black. The hull appeared stained as well, though the pine was still brown, burned, and gouged over years which Eóghan wagered was over a century, calculating in Antonio’s age.

As he came alongside the jetty, and the Nameless now, he grabbed onto a stray rope hanging over the side of the vessel, completely exhausted. Eóghan peered around, and guards still lined the deck, the pier, and every other boat in the harbour, while there was no sign of Antonio. Had he been captured? He kept an eye out, for a skirmish, guards running to intercede in a fight, a very tall man somewhere very near to the marina, but saw nothing of the sort. No, he couldn’t be captured. He would surely fight and die before that. He said he was on a mission from Kartak. Of course, there was no reason to believe Antonio was anything but a liar. He himself told Eóghan that he couldn’t be trusted.

Dangling half in the water, prepared to climb his rope, Eóghan began to see smoke billowing at the head of the pier, and guards running toward it. After some time had passed, the flames grew exponentially, and were worrisome enough for almost everyone, from the guards, to the captains and crews of the ships, to run and extinguish the fire. However, Eóghan heard none of the crew aboard the Nameless evacuate, as if expecting trouble. All was silent aboard Antonio’s charter, and Eóghan discovered why when he looked to the foc’s’le where he speculated the entire bearded crew was watching him, though did nothing.

Time passed, as a slight drizzle descended unto both the earth and the sea, silent on the Nameless, as ongoing and frantic screaming, and the whoosh of fire filled the opposite end of the pier. Twenty emotionless eyes stared at Eóghan, wondering as well as he what would become of him. Will I be drowned or hacked to pieces? Yet suddenly, in that unmoving ambience, the crew, and Eóghan waiting, clearly heard the distinct sound of footfalls, of either a tall and or a large man approaching. While Eóghan couldn’t see the man, as he peered over hoping to catch a glimpse of him, the crew didn’t even slightly crane their necks in the direction of the jetty, and one man, probably the captain spoke to their even newer guest unaided by his eyes, “Are ye ready to embark m’Lord?”

Obviously, Eóghan realised, it is Barlough. Alive and well and here to save me yet again.

“Of course,” came the simple reply, which Eóghan knew was Lord Barlough.

The captain asked again, neither he nor his crew having diverted their sight from Eóghan, “What of the barnacle we have?”

“Come aboard, Eóghan. Though I encourage you to join me below deck at this time, ‘tis doubly safer.”

Two arms from two different crew members reached down to help Eóghan, and both smiled toothless smiles. This sight however, wasn’t enough to disarm Eóghan, for he had seen much worse today, not a hour prior to now, and he accepted the aid of the crewmen with a smile of his own.

His helpers patted Eóghan on the back, as he dripped on the deck, and the captain strode forth to shake his hand, “Eóghan?”

“Yes?”

“Welcome. I’m Captain Falon. Did you enjoy your swim?”

“Of course I did,” Eóghan joked, “The best way to immerse one’s self into the culture and experience of this fine city is undeniably to swim through the s**t and refuse that is its waters,” and his sardonic answer heralded the laughter and respect of the crew.

“I like you, lad. Come with me. Your master had some clothing prepared especially for such an occasion,” Captain Falon said, escorting him below deck.

The cabin was hardly spacious, and the ceiling was low enough that Antonio hunched his entire back in order to fit inside completely, while Eóghan managed to do so perfectly when he entered. It was an office of sorts. All the walls but one had shelves of tomes of books, or rolls or stacks of maps and charts. While the fourth wall had a large cabinet, bolted and locked shut, it also had peculiar markings, which Eóghan believed to be runes, that worked as a deadbolt.

Almost all of the remaining space was taken by a table strewn with charts, some of places he had never seen on parchment, which Antonio studied intently, to such an extent, he didn’t acknowledge  Eóghan’s presence. Then the ship edged forward, and some of Antonio’s maps rerolled themselves, or slid off the table, which he also didn’t acknowledge.

“Barlough?” Eóghan said to draft his attention.

“Eóghan. I see Falon has shown you to your cabin. Depending on the weather, we can expect to be in Tazuma in three nights.”

Eóghan gave Antonio an odd look, as he did the arithmetic in his head, and argued, “No. Under the best conditions, a caravel this size could be in Tazuma in a week, maybe six days.”

Antonio smiled, “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Eóghan. Not this ship. Not the Nameless. Despite her age, a ship of this calibre is designed for speed, and she could easily last another century.”

“Another you say? How does one attain such great age, whilst appearing youthful? Are you a mage or are you immortal?”

“Neither, Eóghan. Though I was under the impression, you had other questions for me.”

He looked desperately for a chair to rest his aching bones, but Eóghan saw none, and none could fit in this room, hardly was there space for a third person, so he deserted the enterprise, and asked again, “What’s happening, Barlough?”

“We’re on our way to Tazuma.”

“Not that. You know what I want.”

He pulled Eóghan further into the room so he could close the door. Then he cleared his throat and susurrated, “One could say I’ve been activated. I met with a friend whose name shall not be uttered, and shall not be mentioned again, but he told me prepare.”

“Prepare for what?” asked Eóghan, matching Antonio’s whisper.

“Invasion.”

“Invasion? Invasion from who?”

“That doesn’t matter. I was also told to meet with the Duchess of Gaurs. She needs our help. We need to remove her from harm’s way.”

“And by doing this… we prevent an invasion?”

“That’s barely half of the work, but yes, we would be well on our way to preventing an invasion.”

If Eóghan was intrigued before, he was more so, now. Such daring endeavors were only ever dreams of his. Now he was a free man, and he was on his way to adventuring for the first time. He grinned, “You’re implying we’ll be taking her home to Gaurs.”

“Perhaps not directly, though that is the plot.”

“Where will we find her in Tazuma?”

“The Rose will arrive four days after us.”

“The Rose?”

“Yes. Lady Rowena of the Rose.”