Tales of the Two Rings: Volume 1 Read online

  Tales of the Two Rings

  Volume 1

  By

  Ben Cassidy

  Copyright 2013 by Ben Cassidy

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing, 2013

  Books in the Chronicles of Zanthora:

  Ghostwalker

  Throne of Llewyllan

  Soulbinder

  Demonbane

  Oracle

  Redemption

  The Raven in the Sea (Coming Soon)

  Tales of the Two Rings

  Daughter of Llathe: A Tale of the Two Rings

  Tales of the Two Rings: Volume 1

  Tales of the Two Rings Volume 2

  Tales of the Two Rings Volume 3 (Coming Soon)

  To join an email update listserv for future releases, contact:

  [email protected]

  Dedicated to Qui Illani,

  Fellow geek, amazing artist, and good friend

  Contents

  Profit and Loss

  Point of Egress

  Flesh and Blood

  Profit and Loss

  “Sail off the voidside bow, level!”

  Sunrider Halmeera turned her head to the right side of the floatship at the called warning. She instinctively reached for the spyglass that she kept on her at all times.

  Up on the quarterdeck, Sunmaster Bala of the Llathese Aether floatship Tenacious stood rigid, both hands clasped behind her back. She shifted her gaze in an almost indifferent fashion towards where Halmeera was on the main deck. “Sunrider?”

  Halmeera grasped the rigging of the floatship and clambered partway up. She hooked her arm in the netting, then lifted the spyglass to her eye with one hand. A swirl of blue Aether dotted with innumerable shining stars swept before her eye as she panned the spyglass. She kept both eyes open as she searched.

  There was a flash of gold just above the voidside railing, a reflection of the distant rays of the sun.

  Halmeera trained her glass on it.

  A floatship came into focus, its sails blazing with light against the blue background of the Aether.

  “Floatship, butterfly pattern,” she called back as she glimpsed the four glowing sails that extended from the vessel. “Can’t make out her colors yet, Sunmaster. Looks to be a cargo ship, heading rimwards.” She climbed down off the rigging, and folded up her spyglass. “I’d say about twenty-five staads distant, more or less.”

  “Butterfly?” Bala said. Her own spyglass hung unused at her belt. “That would suggest Sageeran-make, I would think.”

  Halmeera nodded in agreement as she came up the stairs to the quarterdeck. “Aye, Sunmaster.”

  Bala turned to the helmswoman at the floatship’s wheel. “Bring us on an intercept course. Right one point, south by southeast. Keep them in our sun shadow.”

  The helmswoman nodded. “Right one point, aye, aye, Sunmaster.”

  Bala looked back at Halmeera. “I want a precise course bearing and speed on that contact, Sunrider.”

  Halmeera started to say something, but thought better of it. “Aye, aye, Sunmaster,” she responded tersely, then headed for the stairs leading back to the main deck.

  Tenacious swung gently to the right, the solar wind rippling the three circular sails that were suspended above her deck.

  Above the railing the blazing speck of the distant floatship drifted until she was just voidside of Tenacious’ front bow.

  Halmeera moved quickly across the deck, shouting out a few orders to the crew. She threw herself into her duty, trying her best to ignore the shining green spot of her distant home planet of Llathe as the Tenacious turned slowly away from it.

  “Contact bearing, Sunrider!” The excited aetherman pointed off towards the Starwind’s aft.

  Falreen scowled. He swept his eyes back behind him, and caught sight of the approaching sail in a heartbeat. “Contact bearing aft, level,” he growled.

  The aetherman, a green-skinned Llathese man, gaped from where he hung on the upper mast. “Aye, aye, Sunrider. Sorry, I—”

  “Still it,” Falreen snapped. He already had his spyglass to his eye.

  During Falreen’s days in the Nevagan Aether Fleet an aetherman would have been flogged for such a lack of discipline, perhaps even shot during time of war. But the Starwind was a civilian ship, a Free Trader, with a mixed crew and no pretence at military hierarchy. Sunmaster Soren ran a loose ship, and the crew had a high turnover rate. It infuriated Falreen to no end, but there was not much he could do about it.

  He fastened his glass on the distant floatship. He had to squint to see it with the blazing sun just to windwards.

  “Problem, Falreen?” A Kolan with pale gray skin and short-cropped black hair stepped up onto the quarterdeck. A golden ring dangled in his left earlobe, reflecting the glittering light of the stars that sparkled in the Aether all around them.

  The Sunrider didn’t turn. His hands clenched on the spyglass, his muscles rippling under his dark red skin. “Ship on an intercept course,” he said. “Llathese by the cut of her sail. A frigate, I would guess. She’s signaling us to heave to for boarding.” His voice held all the contempt a Nevagan fighting man could feel for a ship filled with Llathese women.

  “Ah.” The Kolan coldly glanced in the direction of the approaching frigate and stroked his trim goatee. “Is it a problem?”

  This time Falreen did turn. He was a full head taller than his gray-skinned companion, and his huge body was covered with the scars of battles he had fought over the past hundred cycles. In contrast the Kolan’s skin was unblemished, as pale as the day he had been born.

  It was just one of the many things Falreen detested about the man.

  “The frigate has got the weather gauge on us, Ulru.” Falreen explained slowly. “She’s shadowing us, too, staying between us and the sun.”

  Ulru moved to the railing. His calculating eyes examined the distant frigate carefully. “You’ll forgive me, Fal, but you know how useless I am in Aetheric lore. We can outrun her, correct?”

  Falreen shook his head. “We’ve a full hold, and the Llathese frigate has the advantage of the wind.” He brought the spyglass to his eye again. “The Starwind’s fast, but that frigate’s faster.”

  Ulru stepped back. “We’re a bit far from Llathese Aether, aren’t we?”

  Falreen extended the spyglass to Kolan. “Take a look. She’s flying the flag of the Xanate. She must be acting as part of the Xanate Aether Fleet. That gives her the authority to board us for inspection.”

  Ulru crossed his arms. He ignored the proffered spyglass. “How long?”

  Falreen turned back to the helm. “At this rate? A watch, probably less. Then she’ll be on us.”

  The Kolan turned his head to the cabin door. “I think I should get Soren.”

  Falreen glanced out at the blazing stars that stretched around the ship in every direction. “Yes, I think you should.”

  “Contact is still bearing steady on last course,” Halmeera said as she stepped onto the quarterdeck. “We can’t make out her name yet. No colors flying that can be seen. Speed estimated at seventeen staads.” She stood at attention before her commanding officer. “Estimated intercept in seven and half hours, Sunmaster.”

  Bala nodded. She gave a quick glance up at the glowing sails that fluttered above them, held into place by a complex series of rigging and flexible masts. “I’ll be in my cabin, Sunrider. You have the helm. If there is any change, alert me at once.”
br />   Halmeera gave the Llathese salute, a clenched fist over her heart. She gave a quick glance off the stern of the floatship, out towards the twinkling green light of Llathe.

  Bala stared hard at the Sunrider. “Is there something you wished to add, Sunrider?”

  “I—” Halmeera opened and shut her mouth, still rigid at attention.

  The Sunmaster continued to look at her, unfazed.

  Halmeera swallowed. She was invested now. “I wanted—I believe it is my duty, Sunmaster, as your first officer, to remind you that supplies are past the tenth mark, and that pursuing this floatship puts us past our safe return vector for Llathe.” She stopped talking, knowing full well that the Sunmaster knew everything that she had just stated.

  Bala glanced casually behind her at the gleaming speck of Llathe. It hung like an emerald in the void of Aether that surrounded the Tenacious.

  For a long moment there was silence.

  Halmeera cursed herself silently. Whether invited or not, she had spoken out of turn to Sunmaster Bala. Still, the matter had been consuming Halmeera’s thoughts, and unspoken it would only continue to grow.

  The Tenacious had been on long patrol near the Belt of Har’nu for more than three months with no resupply. Her current stores were running dangerously low. Three encounters with raiders had depleted her ammunition, and for the last three rotations the crew had been on half rations. They couldn’t last much longer without heading for port to refit and resupply.

  Every staad that the Tenacious plied to rimwards was one more staad away from Llathe. Every hour she spent pursuing this merchant ship meant an increased danger of missing the return vector to Llathe entirely.

  Sunmaster Bala continued to look at the distant gleam of Llathe. “You disagree with my decision to pursue this floatship, Sunrider?”

  Halmeera looked down at the deck. “I—am concerned about the prospect of resupply, Sunmaster.”

  Bala turned back to her first officer. She inclined her head at the butterfly floatship off the Tenacious’ bow. “Tell me, Halmeera, how many slaves do you think a ship like that can hold?”

  Halmeera held her breath. She knew what was coming next. “I’m…not certain, Sunmaster.”

  Bala tapped her hand against the railing of the quarterdeck. “I’d say at least seventy-five or so. More if they pack them in tight.”

  Halmeera started to respond, but choked back the words.

  Raiders from the Belt of Har’nu were a constant plague to Llathe, a planet well-known for its beautiful people. It was common for slavers to descend from the Aether, grab captives from an outlying town in the jungle Lowlands, then fly back through the Aether for the safety of the Belt in order to sell their prisoners on the slave market.

  “Now,” said Bala with a glance behind them, “I am well aware that ship’s supplies are running low. If we can’t make Llathe, we can always run for Nevaga.”

  Halmeera remained silent. Nevaga would be a risky gamble. Tenacious would have to stay close-hauled against the solar wind and fight the prevailing Aetheric current the whole way. Not to mention the fact that Llathese ships, even ones flying the flag of the Xanate, were less than welcome in Nevagan Aether.

  Bala lifted an eyebrow. “Something else you wanted to say, Sunrider?”

  Halmeera bit her lip for a moment. “No, Sunmaster.”

  Bala nodded. “I understand your concern, Halmeera,” she continued in a softer voice. “But I’ve been plying the Aether for more cycles than I can count. I know what I’m doing. And I’d rather trade my soul to Qurna than see a slave ship escape. Not on my watch.”

  Halmeera shifted, one eye fixed on the distant gleaming speck of Llathe. “You think it’s a slave ship, then?”

  “Are they heaving to?”

  The question didn’t need answering, but discipline compelled Halmeera to anyway. “No, Sunmaster.”

  “Then it would seem they have something to hide, don’t they?” Bala turned back for her cabin. “Hold present course and speed, Sunrider,” she called back over her shoulder. “Alert me the moment anything changes.”

  Ulru ducked under the low-lying beams of the Starwind’s hold. The tulsa wood creaked and groaned as the solar wind pushed the vessel along, filling the four gleaming sails that extended from the hull like the wings of a butterfly.

  A shadow moved in the darkness to greet him as he neared the door to the Sunmaster’s cabin.

  Ulru stopped. “We need Soren on deck,” he said abruptly. “There’s a frigate on our tail.”

  The shapely, almost naked form of a red-skinned Nevagan woman stepped forward. Long blue hair cascaded down over her shoulders and upper back. Long swirls and dots of an intricate tattoo covered the left side of her face. The designs marked her as a member of the Nevagan slave caste.

  Ulru knew better.

  She stepped in front of him. Her body moved gracefully, with confidence and precision. A simple dagger hung on the slim belt she wore. Not a fearsome weapon by any estimation.

  It didn’t matter. Ulru had no doubt that the wide-eyed, beautiful Nevagan girl in front of him was the deadliest person on the entire floatship.

  “The Sunmaster is…in one of his moods,” she said.

  Ulru snorted. “Then you go get him. Either way, he’s needed on deck. Fal says that the frigate will be on us in less than a watch.”

  The girl crossed her arms. “Go ahead.”

  “I didn’t know I needed your permission, Saleera,” Ulru snarled.

  She smiled tauntingly.

  Ulru moved to the door. He pounded on it with one fist.

  No response.

  He hammered again. “Soren?”

  Saleera gave a delicate shrug of her bare shoulders. “Told you.”

  Ulru gave her a contemptuous glance, then reached for the handle of the door. He pushed it open.

  The small cabin smelled strongly of boiled trevanza meat and sour chilltang. The sleeping silks and furs of the bunk were a tangled mess, and had spilt over onto the floor. A small desk, cluttered with parchments and papers, was jammed up against the wall underneath a porthole that looked out onto the blue Aether.

  Ulru stopped just inside the low doorway. He crinkled his nose against the smell.

  “Ulru.” A purple-skinned Sageeran man with close-cropped black hair and beard sat by the desk. In one hand he held a shard pistol, in the other a crystal goblet filled with dark red chilltang. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

  Ulru glanced warily at the pistol. The charge indicator on the side glowed softly, indicating the weapon was loaded. “Soren, I—”

  “This pistol,” Soren interrupted. He leaned forward on the stool, and twisted the weapon in his hand. “Such a beautiful design. Llathese, I believe. The handle is made of genuine ugala wood.”

  Ulru stiffened. Was the Sunmaster drunk? It was hard to tell with Soren. “Sunmaster—”

  “The pistol has a function, a purpose,” Soren continued. He turned the firearm over in his hand. “To kill. Now why would you make something so beautiful that is only designed to end a life? It makes no sense.” He shook his head wearily. “At least the pistol has a function, though. A reason for existence. A pistol doesn’t have to wonder what in the worlds it’s doing with its life.”

  Ulru wished Soren would just put the eel-choked gun down. “Sunmaster—”

  “What, Ulru?” Soren slapped the loaded weapon down onto the desk, then took another quick drink of the chilltang. “Another solar flare spotted? Mainstay come loose? What’s the all-so important news?”

  Ulru took the plunge. “A Llathese frigate, sir. It’s gaining on us.”

  Soren paused, the goblet part way to his mouth. He lowered the cup. “Has she signaled?”

  Ulru blinked in surprise. The Sunmaster sounded suddenly sober. “Yes. It’s flying the Xanate flag, wants us to heave to for inspection.”

  “Does she?” Soren murmured. He put the goblet down on the desk. “Does she indeed?”

  Ulru waite
d for an awkward moment before speaking. “I…thought you might want to come up on deck.”

  Soren nodded slowly. His eyes were fixed on the pistol.

  Ulru hesitated for another moment.

  “A frigate,” Soren said at last. He closed his eyes and smiled. “Thank Pelel.”

  Ulru raised his eyebrows. “Sunmaster?”

  Soren snatched the goblet and drained the rest of the chilltang. He leapt to his feet with a suddenness that surprised Ulru. “Well, what are we waiting for? All hands on deck, Ulru.”

  The Kolan was speechless as the Sunmaster quickly passed him and exited the cabin.

  Saleera glanced in through the open cabin door, and gave Ulru a knowing smile.

  Ulru frowned in response, then pushed past the slave girl and hurried after Soren.

  The deck of the Starwind was a flurry of activity. Aethermen shouted from the yardarms, and climbed the ropes to the four outspread sails of the vessel.

  In the middle of the deck, a group of aethermen were tugging the tarpaulin off the floatship’s sole shard cannon.

  “Put your backs into it,” Falreen roared over the tumult. He hefted a large cannon shot cartridge, then handed it to a red-skinned aetherman. “Here,” he barked at the man, “get that gun loaded now. Where are the sidearms?” He turned with a scowl, then stopped short.

  Soren came out onto the deck. He glanced around at the confusion, then lifted his spyglass. “Where is she?”

  Falreen stepped to the stairs leading to the quarterdeck. “Sunwards, sir. Aft, level.”

  Soren whipped the spyglass around. He peered off intently into the blue Aether.

  Ulru stepped out onto the deck, followed a moment later by Saleera.

  Falreen rubbed his nose. “I’ve ordered sidearms issued to the crew, sir. If it comes to a fight—”

  “Throne of Ardela, Fal, it’s a frigate. If it comes to a fight they’ll tear us apart.” Soren lowered the glass and glanced back at the main deck. “What are you doing with the gun?”