KGWrites

Alyx

The Dawnrunner, The Rivermouth Port, Free City of Blueholdt

Alyx tumbled roughly down into the darkened hold of the ship, hissing through her teeth as she stumbled on her injured leg. Bolts of pain rose up her leg, spreading across her chest. A second later, Iona joined her, missing a step and rolling down the stairs, bouncing off Alyx just as she got to her feet again and sending a fresh blast of fire from her leg.

“Sorry.” Iona’s voice came through the darkness of the hold, barely above a whisper. Alyx grunted, her eyes struggling to adjust. Behind her, loud footsteps descended the stairs, marking the arrival of Darrin Crowe and his crewmates to the space. Rough hands grabbed at Alyx’s shoulders and shoved her forwards. Iona grunted behind her as she was hauled back to her feet.

Darrin walked ahead of them now, his hands clasped casually behind his back. Iona’s sword wash sheathed and strapped to his side, worn next to the wavy daggers. He’d remained jovial, almost talkative, on their walk through the city, giving them a guided tour of local sights even as his men surrounded them. And here on his ship he was even more unbearable. He actually whistled the tune of a sailor’s shanty as he walked.

Alyx wanted to rip his throat out with her teeth.

“Apologies for the darkness, the hold’s not really somewhere we host guests.” Darrin said as Iona stumbled in the dark next to Alyx, her foot catching on something in the shadows.

Alyx’s vision was steadily returning to her, revealing ropes and crates and casks aplenty in the darkened hold. Rope nets hung across the ceiling and others snaked across the floor. It reminded Alyx of the basement of Aaron Trident’s old estate, where she had been held prisoner. Where she had been tortured.

Her muscles tensed. She could feel her heart beating in her chest, pounding on her ribs like a prisoner trying to escape. She could barely hear anything, her hearing was buried beneath the rush of blood in her ears. Her back, still deeply scarred from the ordeal, began itching incessantly. Her legs slowed like they had been encased in iron, and she stopped moving.

Ahead of her, Darrin reached a door at the rear of the hold and produced a key from a string around his neck. Unlocking it, he looked back in their direction with a smile.

“I trust you’ll find this space much more agreeable however.” He said as he turned, beginning to open the door. His smile faltered when his gaze fell on Alyx though, clearly recognising the rising panic on her face. He held up his hands again.

“Remember, friend, not foe.”

Alyx still didn’t move, she couldn’t. No matter what was truly behind those doors, her mind was certain on what it would find. A hook, hanging from the ceiling, with a rack of butcher’s tools beside it. Her hands hung at her sides, every muscle of her body a tight knot.

And then another hand found its way into hers. Fingers interlocked and squeezed together, and she turned to find Iona giving her a reassuring smile in the darkness.

Iona.

Whether Darrin was telling the truth about being a friend. Whether there really was a torture chamber behind that door. Whether she was about to endure the same fear and pain that Trident had inflicted on her, Alyx didn’t know. But she did know one thing.

Iona sure as hell was not going to be put through that. Not while Alyx could keep her promise to protect her.

Right now, though, protecting Iona was not fighting back. They were both unarmed, deep in unfamiliar land and surrounded by potential enemies.

Wait for the opening.

Taking a deep breath and not letting go of Iona’s hand, Alyx started forwards again. Darrin nodded to himself and stepped through the door as they approached. A second later, light, like that from a candle, spilled out from the room.

Alyx reached the door and took a long deep breath, steadying herself for the torture chamber she somehow knew would exist on the other side. Then she stepped forwards.

And into a warmly lit room. Lamps were lit on the wall either side of the door, filling the room with warm yellow light. Two long couches took up the centre of the room, around a low table of dark wood. A rug of dyed blue cloth was laid across the floor and tall shelves stood to the sides, holding books, glasses and bottles. Maps and paintings decorated the walls, and three more doors led off to either side of the room with the third directly across from the entrance door.

Alyx blinked, confused as Darrin chuckled behind her.

“I did say you’d find the ship much more agreeable than that grubby inn room you’d found.” He said, leaning back against the wall with his arms folded.

The crewmembers at Alyx’s shoulders guided her and Iona to one of the couches, sitting them down onto the cushioned surface. It sank beneath Alyx, drawing her downwards with promises of comfort for her aching body. It was everything she could do to resist it.

“What is this?” Iona asked, confusion plain in her voice as she sat down next to Alyx.

“I told you, somewhere more comfortable than the inn you were staying in.” Darrin replied, that damned smirk reappearing on his face. A face Alyx was finding more punchable by the second.

“Refusing to answer my questions isn’t putting my mind at ease Crowe.” Iona replied easily. If she was as unnerved as Alyx was right now, she certainly wasn’t showing it. Instead, she seemed more annoyed with Darrin’s evasiveness than concerned about their potential capture.

“Apologies Princess but there really is little more to say on this. I do not wish you any harm, but where you were staying was a risk to your group. It was easily found, infiltrated and escapable. Like you were asking to be found.” Darrin shrugged.

“So you have your men drag us through the streets in response? Put blades to our necks?” Iona asked, her disbelief in his words clear in her voice.

“A little self-indulgent of me, I’ll admit.” Darrin conceded. “But it got the point across better than words. You surely believe what I’m saying about the inn being unsafe now, no?”

Iona nodded slightly, as if seeing his point. All Alyx saw was a smug bastard, revelling in his work. And more than glad to get an opportunity to explain it.

“So you kidnapped us.” Iona concluded, her tone remaining guarded.

“No. Not kidnapped. Escorted.” Darrin replied, as if correcting Iona’s grammar.

“Oh. So we can leave?” Iona said, beginning to rise from the couch like someone leaving a bar. Darrin clicked his tongue.

“No. I’m afraid not.” He said after a second. “But rest assured you are not prisoners here. But guests.”

“Mighty thin line between those two things.” Alyx growled out, glaring at the two crewmembers now stood by the door.

“Hm.” Iona hummed in agreement. “Usually, a line separated by the ability to leave.”

Darrin laughed, crossing to one of the cabinets and opening it, lifting out a bottle of dark glass and pulling the cork with a pop. Then he looked to the two sentinels, standing vigilant by the door.

“Go find somewhere else to be.” He told them. They took one more, doubtful look at Iona and Alyx. But clearly they decided that unarmed, they posed no threat, as they nodded to their captain and left.

Once the door had closed behind them, Darrin crossed the room, passing by the couch, heading for a cabinet of glasses behind Iona.

When he got within reach, Alyx struck.

Ignoring the scream of pain from her ankle, she sprang forwards from the sofa. She collided with Darrin and drove him back, slamming his back against a bookshelf. Her thief’s hands worked quickly, gripping Iona’s sheathed sword and drawing it in a fluid motion.

Her right hand pressed the blade of the sword to Darrin’s throat while her left pulled his hair back, exposing his neck.

“Alright prick. Shut the fuck up and listen.” She snarled, her teeth bared. But Darrin only scoffed, his eyes sparkling with amusement and mischief as he looked down at her. He was clearly unbothered by the pain of her pulling on his hair, or the presence of the blade to his throat.

“Alyx.” Iona’s voice was low but concerned. A warning.

“The cat with the claws indeed.” Darrin laughed breathlessly, licking his teeth as he grinned down at her. Again with that look of knowing more than he said. It was all Alyx could do to resist drawing the blade along his throat. Then his eyes travelled further down, and Alyx became aware of the tiniest little pinprick of pressure against her abdomen. Glancing down, she saw that Darrin had the tip one of his wavy bladed daggers pressed against her. He must have drawn it in the same instant she had grabbed Iona’s sword.

Fuck, he’s quick.

“But a predictable cat all the same.” Darrin continued. He twirled the dagger in his hand, poking it through Alyx’s tunic but staying just far back enough not to break skin. “These are water daggers, the shape means even a quick cut can do a lot more damage than a few stitches could fix up.”

A death sentence. Without her armour or help, even a small cut would cripple Alyx enough to make her useless in protecting Iona. More useless than she already was with her leg anyway. Still though…

“Fancy blades or not, one cut here and you’ll drown in your own blood.” Alyx replied, pressing the sword forwards enough to just barely scratch Darrin’s neck. A drop of bright crimson ran down the polished metal.

“Maybe. But that’s a slow death. I can still cut you deep before that happens.” He shot back with another half laugh.

“Or I cut your fucking head off.” Alyx retorted. Her blood was heating now, adrenaline taking over. One quick move, then step back. She could do that easily, stay out of his range while he died.

As long as I’m quick enough.

Darrin simply tilted his head, his eyes narrowing in a silent challenge. A dare to Alyx to put her actions where her words were.

She took a deep breath, ready for the approaching fight.

And suddenly flew backwards off her feet through the air, crashing down on top of Iona on the couch. The air flew from Alyx and she and Iona tumbled to the ground in a confused mess of tangled limps and surprised yelps.

Rolling off Iona, Alyx’s head whipped around to Darrin, already expecting him to be on the move.

Which meant she was more than a little surprised to find he hadn’t moved. And it wasn’t just that he’d simply stood still. His head was still tilted back, the thin line of red visible on his neck, his dagger still pointed outwards. Glancing down at her hand Alyx saw she’d even ripped out a chunk of his hair as she’d moved, and yet he hadn’t reacted. Only one thing could hold someone in place like that.

Magic.

“That’s enough!” The voice was dominating, loud and booming. And the recognisable accent of it made Alyx’s shoulders instantly sag with relief. A smile spreading on her face, she looked to the door.

Meghan Whiteoak stood in it, her right arm outstretched towards Darrin, a white glow visible from beneath her clothing. Behind her stood James, his bow half drawn with an arrow. His eyes went straight to Alyx, looking her over for damage. She gave a grateful smile and shake of her head, easing his worries.

No sign of Darrin’s crew was behind them in the dark hold as they stepped into the room. James closed the door and then walked quickly to Alyx, putting away his bow and arrow as he did so.

Meghan meanwhile, walked up to Darrin. Standing barely out of arm’s reach from him, with her own arm still outstretched, she tilted her head.

“Crowe. I should have predicted you’d get involved in all this.” She stated. She flexed her fingers and Darrin’s head flopped forwards, released from her grasp. He shook it once, then lifted it to smile at her with that same cocky grin.

“Whiteoak! It’s always a pleasure to see you.” He said cheerily, completely ignoring his paralysis.

James reached Alyx, offering her his hand and pulling her back to her feet. She hopped once, rebalancing herself and taking her weight off her ankle. Next to her, Iona stood too, picking up her sword.

“Hm.” Meghan replied to Darrin, offering a quick smile in return. Then she flicked her finger and Darrin’s head rocked back against the wall with a dull thud. “What’s your angle, pirate?”

Darrin groaned in pain and frustration. “Again with this bollocks? Just trying to help out the right side, witch!”

The room stilled. Alyx heard Iona suck in breath across her teeth. She felt her brother tense next to her, one hand drawing back to draw an arrow. Alyx simply watched Meghan, praying she would use her magic to twist Darrin’s smug head clean off his shoulders.

A second passed.

Another.

And then Meghan Whiteoak began to giggle, a grin spreading across her features. A sound that was soon joined by the laughter of Darrin Crowe against the wall.

Alyx, James and Iona all drew back, blinking in confusion and looking to each other for any semblance of explanation. They found none.

The white glow faded from beneath Meghan’s clothing and Darrin slumped forwards against the wall, dropping his dagger to the deck.

Meghan stepped up to him, still grinning and laughing, and wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

Somewhere, the entire Village are pissing themselves laughing at me right now. Alyx shook her head in wonder, looking to the others. Iona looked just as confused as her. James meanwhile stood in utter shell shock, his three-fingered hand still clutching the feathered end of an arrow. Alyx wondered if he wouldn’t still draw it if Meghan and Darrin didn’t stop hugging soon.

Which, thankfully, they did.

Stepping back from Darrin, Meghan looked him up and down.

“You look good. Lording on the Council’s treating you well.” She observed and he shrugged.

“Meals, gold and free reign over my tides? I’ve certainly had it worse. Though I’m not sure you have. When we heard about the siege…”

“We made it out. Plenty didn’t.” Meghan replied, her tone making it clear that she didn’t want to continue that conversation any further. But the silence gave Alyx the perfect opportunity to speak up.

“Um yes, hello? Still here. What the fuck?” She asked, staring at Meghan and waiting for explanation. Meghan seemed to be surprised with the reminder of her companions and Darrin chuckled behind her.

“Right, yes.” Meghan began awkwardly before turning to point towards Darrin. “You’ve already met Darrin Crowe, one of the Sea Lords of Blueholdt.” Darrin bowed that same dancers bow again, taking the opportunity to pick up his dropped dagger and the bottle he’d been carrying.

“Yeah, we met when he took us prisoner.” Iona remarked through gritted teeth, glaring at Darrin. Meghan turned to look at him incredulously.

“Your letter failed to mention that.” She huffed, her tone accusatory. Alyx and Iona exchanged a glance. What letter?

“I wouldn’t say prisoner.” Darrin reasoned.“More like I gave them a little extra incentive to come along.”

“At the point of a fucking blade!” Alyx spat. James tensed next to her, his eye twitching. Alyx was certain that the slightest wrong move from Darrin would have her brother launch an arrow through his eye.

Meghan looked from her to Darrin and then to Iona, who nodded, confirming Alyx’s story. Sighing in exasperation, Meghan pinched the bridge of her nose.

“You could have just waited until we got back. Explained.” She muttered. Darrin clicked his tongue and shrugged.

“Didn’t know how long you’d be. And the longer I waited, the more chance someone recognised you. That inn’s on the main road, word would spread to Aldiron fast if someone wanted it to.”

“Oh, so it was an act of kindness.” Iona interjected, her voice thick with sarcasm.

“Yes actually.” Darrin responded, smiling at her. The action seemed to confuse Iona to the point she put down her sword and simply sat on the couch, looking to Meghan for guidance.

Sighing loudly, Meghan rubbed at her eyes before she spoke again. “Alright, for fuck’s sake. Can we all just start this over, give this idiot a chance to explain before we go straight to cutting his throat?”

Alyx suddenly felt very tired, her leg aching from all the moving she’d done on it. And so, she wordlessly slumped over onto the sofa next to Iona. The Princess though, looked up at Meghan.

“To be clear, we don’t like his explanation, cutting his throat is still on the table?” She asked. Meghan looked to Darrin, who was now fishing around for glasses in a cabinet. He winked back at her.

“Very much so.” She told Iona, her voice a low warning as she sat without ever taking her eyes off him.

“Good.” James approved, sitting next to his sister. Just like Meghan, his eyes stayed locked to Darrin.

Darrin crossed back to the table, laying out the five glasses and pouring a healthy measure of dark liquid into each before passing them out. Alyx took hers and lifted it to her nose, giving it a cautious sniff. The liquid was rum, heavily spiced but still surprisingly fruity.

“Got this from an old smuggler’s distillery on an island out to the west. Smugglers had long since left, distillery had been pretty much reclaimed by the jungle. But a little survived. Only bottles in existence are here on my ship.” Darrin stated, sitting down on the couch next to Meghan and lifting his glass in a salute, one leg slung casually over the other.

No-one else moved a muscle.

“Really?” Darrin said, his voice betraying confusion. “You think I’d bring you all secretly across the city just to poison you all with rum?”

A group of completely deadpan, blank faces, stared back at him. He chuckled, a little nervously.

“Fine.” He said, and took a swig of his own glass. He sighed in satisfaction as the dark liquid disappeared. Only after a second of Darrin not dying, did Alyx lift her glass to her lips and drink.

Which turned the problem quickly from not wanting to drink, to not wanting to stop.

The rum was sweet and warming, but there was no heavy kick to it that burned Alyx’s throat. She looked down at the glass in her hand in wonder. The only dangerous part of that drink was how easily she felt she’d be able to drink the whole thing.

“Alright Crowe, I’m convinced you’re not about to kill me.” Iona began, downing her glass of rum quickly and placing it to the side. “That doesn’t mean I trust you.” She leaned forwards, elbows on her knees and hands clasped in front of her chin.

“Make me.”

Darrin took a long swig of rum and clicked his tongue before he answered.

“I’ve been on the Sea Lords’ Council for the past three years, but I’ve been around in Blueholdt since I was a boy, nearly thirty years. I served on my uncle’s ship fifteen years ago, when Draconeus last came down from the mountains for war.”

“Blueholdt was still part of Aldiron before that war. You claimed independence from us during it.” Iona recalled. Darrin nodded, his face grim.

“Your grandfather, Lyall Ravellan, was still king then. When Draconeus came southwards, he ordered the legions of Blueholdt forwards onto the Bloodfields. They were to delay his advance while the banners of Aldiron gathered to meet him.”

“They’d have been outnumbered.” Iona observed.

“Ten to one, some say.” Darrin informed her, causing a grimace to cross her lips. “He wanted to use us as sacrificial pawns. To block Draconeus with a wall of our own bodies. So that he could keep his own lands safe.”

Iona looked down, a strange look of surprise and shame in her eyes. She’d not heard this side to the story before, Alyx realised.

“The captains of Blueholdt met, formed the first Sea Lords Council. And they refused the call. They told your grandfather to ford the river himself, to face Draconeus along the Ramm. They would not sacrifice the lives of our men and women so he could keep his own hands clean. And they would only allow him to cross at Blueholdt if he agreed to certain terms.”

“Your declaration of independence. I remember. It cost me a lot more than you know. My mother died at the river fords because Blueholdt refused to aid Aldiron.” Iona growled. Alyx turned her head quickly to Iona. She’d known that Iona’s mother had died in battle against Draconeus’ armies in the last war, but that she’d died in an avoidable battle, that was news.

“I am sorry.” Darrin said, and Alyx got the sense that he truly meant it. “But the choice to not immediately grant our terms was made by your grandfather. The battles of the fords were his choosing, not Blueholdt’s.”

Anger flashed in Iona’s eyes, but she said nothing. There was truth in his words, even Alyx could see it. If King Lyall had taken the deal with Blueholdt, then the river port would have been open to him for the entire war. No unnecessary battles, no unnecessary deaths.

“Your father eventually convinced your grandfather to accept the terms, giving us our independence and the first Sea Lords’ Council. We remained neutral, not giving a fighting force, but our trade, and our gates, were once again open to Aldiron. Plenty of people say you won the war because of that.” Darrin concluded.

“Is there a point to this history lesson?” Iona asked, her voice somewhat hollow. Haunted by spectres of the past.

“Not every captain so easily wanted to abandon Aldiron, some took a lot of convincing. Some, like my uncle, remained unchanged in their loyalty.” Darrin said, sitting forwards to meet Iona’s eyes.

“He spent years building relationships within your city. Your grandfather, your father.” He looked to Alyx and James. “Your father too.”

Both of them sat straight in surprise, eyes wide as they stared at Darrin. Alyx’s mind reeled with questions, each fighting to be asked. But Darrin seemed to know that, and he seemed willing to explain.

“Lucian Cobalt was a respected name within the new Sea Lords’ Council, a good man with a head for business and trades. He made a deal with my uncle to service the trade arm of Blueholdt, the Captain’s Conclave.” Alyx sucked in breath. She’d heard that name before, in stories James had told her of their father’s greatest deal. Of his last deal.

“When Aaron Trident took over the deal and Lucian disappeared, it was clear what had happened. But Trident had spun himself well into Aldiron, striking him would be worse than suicide for the Conclave. So my uncle carried on, and after he stepped back from the Council three years ago, I took on his seat, and his ship.” Darrin continued. Alyx nodded, understanding what he was implying, the fact that he had worked with Trident in trading.

“Thank you, for not forgetting who began it. For not falling into Trident’s webs.” James said earnestly and Darrin nodded in acknowledgement.

“Around ten years ago, I was sent by my uncle south to Suncliffe. I met an ambassador of Aldiron there. A young woman, barely out of her teenage years, all messy curls and nervous energy.” His gaze turned to Meghan, who smiled.

“Your father had sent me to meet with Darrin. To… recruit his uncle as an agent of Aldiron, someone who could report on the dealings of the Council. Keep us appraised of any changes.”

“A spy.” Iona summarised and Meghan nodded.

“Apparently someone on the Council caught on, sent assassins to kill us both. I had to use magic to fend them off.” Meghan looked sad, almost ashamed as she told the story.

“But she was convincing. I took the offer to my uncle, and he agreed we should help Aldiron.” Darrin concluded, stepping in as Meghan trailed off.

“So there you have it. For the last ten years, I’ve been your kingdom’s very own eyes and ears on the Council.” Darrin leaned forwards again.

“Make no mistake princess. Now that your kingdom is shattered and Draconeus sits your throne, you will see no love from any Lords of Blueholdt. But old friendships remain, and I’ve not forgotten that the real enemy, despite all our histories, remains Draconeus. For both our homes. So I want to help you.”

Silence descended on the room as Iona considered Darrin’s words, chewing at her lip. She glanced to Meghan, who gave her a reassuring nod. Then to James, who remained too lost in the freshly dug up memories of their father to notice. Finally Iona turned to Alyx, who held her gaze steadily and inclined her head slightly.

I believe him. At least mostly. But it’s you I trust. If you trust him, I have your back.  

Iona offered a slight smile, she’d at least partially understood.

“Help us how?” Iona asked, turning back to Darrin and reaching down to pour another rum. Darrin’s shoulders sagged slightly, relief at the implied acceptance of his story.

“It’s not escaped my notice that Lady Cobalt is injured. My crew and I can see to sheltering all of you while she recovers. And longer for any… other business you have here in Blueholdt?” He offered, glancing to Meghan who narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

“Who says we have any business in Blueholdt?” She asked him and he chuckled.

“Come on now Megs, you’re travelling with a double risk. She’s not just a recognisable face as a princess, but that beauty will turn heads too.” Darrin said, gesturing towards Iona. Iona smiled thinly, but Alyx could have sworn she saw her almost recoil from Darrin’s complement.

“If you just wanted to cross the Ramm quietly and head north, there’s smaller, more subtle crossings.” Darrin concluded. Alyx had to work hard to control her reaction. There was clearly a reason Darrin had held his position, he was more shrewd and clever than he let on.

“We’re here to research.” Iona interjected. “We need access to the Hall of Records.”

“Did you miss the part when I said you were recognisable Princess? Sitting in a library reading through tomes isn’t exactly keeping yourself hidden.” Darrin retorted.

“I’ll stay with Alyx while she heals. James and Meghan will handle the research we need.” Iona explained quickly.

Darrin studied her for a long while. Then he sighed and clicked his tongue, turning to Meghan.

“How long will you need for your research?” He asked and she chewed her lip, glancing to James, who simply shrugged.

“I don’t know. What we’re looking for wasn’t in Aldiron’s records. But it’s just the meaning of a few old words. It could be a simple task, or insanely difficult. Can’t say until we start.” Meghan told him.

“The longer you’re here, the bigger the risk.” Darrin said, warning thick in his voice. Iona leaned forward again.

“You want Draconeus dead? This is how you get it.” She said simply. Darrin tilted his head, examining her as he thought. Then his cocky grin split his face again. Only this time, Alyx didn’t want to punch it.

“Alright Princess, seems we’ve got ourselves an accord.” He lifted his glass and Iona did the same, clinking them off one another in salute before downing the rum within them. Then he turned to the rest of them.

“These cabins will be your own for the next while, make yourselves at home. Welcome aboard the Dawnrunner.”