Hello,
Here is Chapter two of the second book of The Chronicles of Aertu.
Chapter 2
Sildaenday, Day 29, Squash Moon. 8765 Sudean Calendar
“You will deliver this to my associate in Sunj, just as we discussed,” Cipactli instructed Aleron, handing him a long bundle. Aleron took the bundle, setting it on his shoulder and then reached down to pick up the small haversack at his feet. “Tell him that should settle our debt. From there you can make your way downriver into Waban. Perhaps you can work for passage on a ship from there.”
Aleron knew there was no associate in Sunj. The bundle consisted primarily of twigs from a rare and valuable shrub, known only from Kolixtlan and the Central Jungle and highly sought after by medical practitioners. Concealed within the bundle was a certain greatsword that was supposedly still in Cipactli’s storeroom. He also supplemented their food stores for the journey and provided them with a light bow, to aid in their foraging. Eilowyn carried that, since she had no large blades to carry. Aleron knew her to be a passable shot and since she never trained in sword, it made for a good fit. It was approaching the midnight bell and they were the only movement on the docks. His companions, along with three crewmen, were already aboard the twin-rigged “fishing boat” that Cipactli provided for their escape. Shallow drafted and slim, with a tall prow and stern, its design suited it for river travel as well as calm seas, perfect for a smuggler. A cloth tarp roof at the stern was the only place to store goods and equipment, or sleep out of the weather.
“Thank you for your help; I will not forget it,” Aleron promised.
“Think nothing of it, my friend. Now travel safe.” As Aleron turned to the gangplank, something slammed into his left shoulder, driving him to all fours, the bundle falling to the dock. Gasping to catch his breath, he looked over to see a bodkin point protruding from the front of his shoulder. He looked to his right in time to see one of Cipactli’s men falling into the water, two arrows sticking from his chest. Cipactli grabbed the bundle, hurled it onto the boat, heedless of injuring anyone aboard and then grabbed Aleron by his good arm. “Get to the boat, now!” he shouted, as he hauled Aleron up to his feet again. The haversack forgotten, he stumbled onto the gangplank, through the fog that slowly crept into the edges of his field of vision. It was difficult to breath, much less talk, so he simply put one foot before the other, as fast as he could manage and hoping he would maintain his balance. He could feel the Kolixtlani smuggler’s hands steadying him, but then suddenly falling away. He heard a splash behind him, as he made the last couple steps into the boat. He turned to see a body float past, two shafts sticking from the back of a fine silk coat. Geldun had his shield up and his sword out, while Barathol covered behind him with his glaive in a reverse grip, over the top of Geldun’s shield. Together they shielded the other occupants, as the crew scrambled to untie the boat. The lamplight from the docks allowed just enough visual warning for them to swat the shafts away. No one remained alive on the docks, as far as Aleron could see. One of the crew shoved off from the dock with an oar, while the other two grabbed an oar each and started pulling for all they were worth. The one who pushed off dipped his oar to help steer the boat, one side or the other, as needed. As they pulled away from the docks, Aleron allowed himself to sag against the side, his right arm hooked over the gunwale for support. He couldn’t move his left arm at all without searing pain, but he was able to keep the tunnel vision at bay, just so long as he didn’t move and breathed slowly.
As soon as the boat was out of range of the archers, Barathol dropped his glaive and picked up an oar, set it in an oarlock on the starboard side and signaled the odd crewman to do the same on the port side. “Tend to Al now, he looks like he’s fading fast.” With four men pulling on the oars, the boat cut across the water, straight toward the center of the bay.
Geldun and Eilowyn moved to where Aleron hung by the gunwale and Geldun began probing the injury as well as he could in the darkness. “Corball’s balls!” he exclaimed. “It punched through his shoulder blade. Do you taste blood?” he asked.
“No,” Aleron grunted. “It just hurts to breathe.”
“I’ll patch you up the best that I can, but I don’t dare take it out yet, not until I can see.” He took out a small knife and began to score around the shaft sticking out Aleron’s back.
“What can I do to help?” Eilowyn asked. She straddled Aleron’s leg and held him to her, to help support his weight, while Geldun went to work, one arm holding his head to her shoulder.
“Undo his belt and then just keep doing what you’re doing; this is going to get a little rough.” He snapped the fletched portion of the arrow off and then scored and broke the point end off, leaving three finger widths of exposed shaft protruding, front and back and then pulled the chainmail over the ends. “Now, Al, I need to get this chain shirt off you, so I can bandage you up. Try to relax and I’ll lift your arm now.”
“Aarrgh,” Aleron grunted in pain, as Geldun slowly pulled his arm to a hand raised position and grasped the sleeve of his chain shirt. The steady rocking of the boat on the water made the process that much more difficult.
“Let go of his side for a moment, Ellie. Al, when I let go of your hand, you need to pull it through the sleeve; got it?” He released the hand and grabbed the other side of the sleeve, as well. With a low moan and the occasional grunt, Aleron pulled his arm free of the sleeve. Geldun gave him a few seconds to catch his breath and said, “Now we’re going to get your other arm free and pull the shirt over your head.” He and Eilowyn worked the other arm out of the chain shirt and pulled it over Aleron’s head. They repeated the entire process for the padded gambeson he wore beneath the chain, Aleron grunting in pain with each movement and Eilowyn doing her best to steady him. “You’re lucky it didn’t puncture your lung, and I don’t feel a lot of blood either. Let me get my bag so I can bind that up ‘till morning.” Geldun left to retrieve his pack and returning, he opened it to retrieve dressings he kept for just such an eventuality. He wrapped each exposed end of the shaft for padding and bound them tight with a long roll of cloth, from his left shoulder to the opposite armpit. Tying that off, he used another to bind Aleron’s left upper arm to his chest, fully immobilizing it. He then fashioned a cravat to support his forearm from his neck. With Aleron’s wound bound, they worked the gambeson back over his head and his good arm through the sleeve, so he would not catch a chill in the cool early morning air.
By the time Eilowyn and Geldun finished with Aleron, the others had stowed the oars and the three Kolixtlani began unfurling the forward sail. Barathol shifted to help and he and Geldun picked Aleron up and carried him to the stern. Eilowyn laid out one bedroll among the stowed gear and they laid Aleron out, propped on his right side, for comfort. “Ellie, you should lie with him, to help keep him warm,” Barathol suggested. “If he goes into shock, we might not be able to bring him back. Here, let’s get his legs up on this bundle.” He scooped up Aleron’s ankles with one burly forearm and shoved a bag under his knees.
“All right,” she agreed. “Aleron, my love, I’m just going to settle in behind you. Don’t worry; everything will be all right.” She set herself behind him and clung tightly, while Barathol pulled another blanket over the top of both. Aleron was already asleep by the time the blanket made it to his neck, Eilowyn’s face pressed into his shoulder. The two marines settled in on either gunwale, each facing the other to see all direction, partly to spot approaching danger and partly to watch the crew. They could not guarantee their loyalty, with their boss apparently dead in the water, back at the docks. Both men had their weapons out and lying across their knees. With Aleron asleep, there was no way to communicate with the crew, other than through gestures. The starlight was enough to see by and one of the crew came to them and gestured to the stern, where the steering oar lay. Geldun motioned him to proceed and the man picked his way between them, carefully, to the stern. The crew had both sails up and a steady westward breeze had them slicing across the water faster than the Sudeans thought possible, from their initial assessment of the craft. There was nothing to do now but wait for dawn and hope the others were not planning to betray them.
***
Ichtaca, Captain of the City Guard addressed the young officer facing him, “How could you let a boat shove off, Lieutenant? You were supposed to kill all the crew and apprehend the Sudeans.”
“Sir, in the darkness, the archers could not tell the Sudeans from the crew, aside from the woman. It caused them to hesitate.”
“Then, your archers are idiots, Lieutenant and that is a reflection on your leadership. In turn, it is a reflection on my leadership. Are you familiar with the old saying about excrement, Lieutenant?”
“Sir, that it rolls down-hill?”
“Yes, Lieutenant, it certainly rolls down-hill. That means that whatever I receive for punishment, you will get double and I expect you to hold your men accountable as I do you.”
“Yes Sir, understood.”
“Good, now get this mess cleaned up. I want the initial report on my desk by morning. Have the informant identify the bodies. Dismissed!” The Lieutenant turned smartly and moved off to supervise the cleanup. The informant would be useful in the future. He wanted Cipactli’s operation, so he didn’t even ask for a reward for the information that his boss was a Castian operative, harboring Sudean fugitives. Now, my only concern is painting this in a good light for my boss. Failure is not well tolerated of senior Kolixtlani officers.
***
The first rays of sun crept over the eastern horizon, as the boat sped northwestward from Kolixtla. “He feels hot,” Eilowyn stated, her hand on Aleron’s forehead. He fidgeted restlessly in his sleep and his face appeared flushed, even in the cool morning air. “We need to get this arrow out of him. It’s making him sick.”
“You’re right, Ellie,” Geldun replied. “Wake him up and we’ll get him ready.” He rummaged through his bag for more supplies and Barathol came over to help Eilowyn.
They roused their friend and Barathol asked, “How are you feeling Al, you look sick.”
“I just feel cold.” He clung to himself and shivered, huddled in the blanket.
“You’re not going to like this, but we need to get that shirt off you again, so I can get that arrow out of you,” Geldun informed him. He nodded feebly and released his grip on himself and the blanket. Eilowyn lowered the blanket from over his shoulders and then untangled the tails of his gambeson, so they could remove it. Barathol pulled it over Aleron’s head, while Eilowyn steadied him. He shivered uncontrollably for a few moments, as the cool air hit his fevered skin, but managed to control it, after the initial shock. Geldun untied the cravat and began removing the dressing from the wound, rolling the cloth back up, to save it for later. He did not have an endless supply of dressings in his pack. Exposing the wound revealed the problem; red streaks radiating from the puncture, a sure sign that the wound was beginning to fester. “It looks like it’s festering already. I wish we could have pulled it out last night and let it bleed, but it was too risky in the dark.”
One of the Kolixtlani crewmen came over to investigate and Barathol reached for his weapon. The crewman raised up his hands, palm out and said, “Please, I mean you no harm. You speak our language, do you not?” he asked of Aleron.
“I do,” he replied, hoarsely.
“Tell the big one that he kept us alive, and we will do as much for you.”
“He thanks you for helping them stay alive,” he translated for Barathol, “and he pledges to do the same for us. “Is that all you wanted to say, friend, or is there something else?”
“The bundle you carry for the boss, this is what it is for. Take a few twigs, no one will notice.”
“That will help my sickness?
“Yes, it is used for fevers and putrid wounds, that is why it is valued so highly. Strip some of the bark, chew it and apply it to the wound, under the bandage. Then, chew some more, for the fever. I can assure you that you will recover, but if you do not, you may die before we reach the Acatlpol.”
The Acatlpol River was over three-hundred leagues distant and they would need over five days to reach it. At least I know now that they plan to make good on their deal to carry us as far west as they can reach by boat, Aleron thought to himself. “He says we should use the stuff in the bundle for the wound and the fever,” he said with effort, after managing a deep breath. He says I need to chew the bark for the fever and put some on the wound to keep it from festering.” He started shivering again, as another fever chill hit him. Barathol took the cue and went to find the bundle.
Geldun took position behind Aleron and said, “I’m going pull it out from the back Al, so I don’t drag any bone chips deeper. Are you ready?” Aleron nodded in affirmation and took a deep breath. “Good then, Ellie, use this for the bleeding,” handing her a wad of clean cloth. “It will probably bleed a little, when I open the wound up again. Brace yourself Al; on the count of three, I’ll yank it out. One…two…three.” He pulled sharply and Aleron gritted his teeth, as he felt the wood grate against the bone. Blood slowly oozed from both sides of the wound. Eilowyn and Geldun quickly pressed the wadded cloths to the wound and Geldun inspected the bloody stub of the shaft and stated, “It looks clean; I won’t have to go digging for any splinters. Let’s get you wrapped up again.”
Barathol returned with one of the twigs, shaving a long strip of silver bark with his small knife. “Here, he said to chew this, right?” he said, handing Aleron the strip. Aleron took it fed it into his mouth, chewing as he went. “Wait on wrapping him up, Gel. He’s supposed to have this under the bandage.” Aleron finished chewing, spat the wad into his palm and held it back to Geldun. He was already finding it easier to breath, with the shaft removed, but a throbbing ache replaced the sharp pain he felt a moment ago and he still felt nauseous from the fever. He had a bitter taste on the back of his throat from chewing the bark. Barathol handed him another strip and he repeated the process, handing the second wad of pulverized bark to Eilowyn, as Barathol handed him a third strip to continue chewing. Geldun had Eilowyn hold both cloth pads, with the chewed bark poultices underneath, while he replaced the wrap to secure them in place.
The crewman returned, saying, “Change the bandage twice daily and chew a little of the bark all the time; that should keep you well enough to heal. My sister is a healer; that is how I know. If we had the means, we would dry the bark and grind it to powder, for the wound and make a tea for you to sip, but for now, chewing will have to do.”
“It’s good that you’re not coughing any blood or bleeding much from that wound,” Geldun stated. “You should heal up from the flesh wound pretty fast, if it doesn’t fester. The hole in your shoulder blade will take longer though. What did he tell you?”
“He just said to change the bandage twice a day and keep chewing the bark, for my fever,” Aleron replied, following with, “Thank you for everything,” to the crewman, who just nodded in acknowledgement. They were about to replace the gambeson and cover him with the blanket, when he suddenly broke out in a sweat. “Leave it off for a bit, my fever just broke. This stuff really works.”
Eilowyn, Geldun and Barathol set to tidying up the cargo area, from the events of the night prior. Once complete, Aleron settled in to rest again, with Eilowyn beside him. Barathol and Geldun joined the Kolixtlani crew, to allow them some rest as well. Both men knew how to sail and hand gestures were communication enough to operate the boat. If the wind holds out and they sail straight through, they should round the peninsula, into the Kolixtlani Sea, in another day. Their pursuit would be well behind them and there was no way the Kolixtlani authorities could send word to other ports in time to send out interceptor ships.
To read chapter three, click here: https://julianbenoit.wordpress.com/2014/04/10/the-fugitive-king-chapter-3/
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