Chapter Thirty-Nine - An Awakening

  55th Day of Spring - Year 1758 of the Golden Era

  Shorefarm, Yellowfield, Draya Calyrex

  He was planning to awaken at first light and set off soon after breaking his fast.

  Instead, he was awakened an hour before the sun kissed the horizon by furious knocking at his chamber's door. Maldrak cast a simple spell to create some light, enough to see his pocket watch and read the time upon it.

  He rubbed at his face, but the knocking didn't cease, and so he hurried to stand and wrapped himself in a simple robe. "I'm presentable, enter," he said.

  The door opened and young Magus Nocthorn stepped in, along with Artisan Artificer Woodbone the younger. "Sir," she said hurriedly. "There's been an incident."

  "Has there?" he asked. "I wouldn't have presumed that much from the way you're barging into my room at five in the morn."

  He had to moderate himself. Being awakened too early was testing his patience and shortening his temper. Bad attitudes rarely improved poor situations.

  The young Magus nodded, a little more hesitant now. "One of the sailors has died."

  Maldrak frowned. "An officer?"

  "No, Magus, one of the crew," she said.

  "Give me more details. Or rather, Artificer Woodbone, you do so. Forgive me, Magus Nocthorn, but I must dress, and it would be inappropriate to have you present."

  Nocthorn blinked, then eyed his state of dress before flushing. "Of course, Magus," she said before slipping out of the room.

  He started to dress. "Go on," he said to Woodbone.

  The young man started, but then did as he was asked. "I didn't get all of the details, being otherwise... preoccupied. But there was a commotion at the docks. Some of the sailors decided to stay in one of the houses on the shore. I imagine the rooms are bigger there. In any case, the alarm rose when they discovered one of them dead this morning."

  "A cause? Was the death violent? And what were you doing awake at this hour?"

  The young magus looked away. "Nothing untoward. Magus Nocthorn and I were talking theory."

  Maldrak felt an eyebrow perking up. There was a story there, and it wasn't one he cared to discover. "And the important part of that question?" he prompted.

  "Ah, no, no signs of violence, as far as I'm aware. I didn't investigate the body, however."

  Maldrak pulled up the collar of his shirt and wrapped a tie around his neck. He started to make a knot out of it. "Go inform the captain if he hasn't been alerted already. Warn the officers that you happen across as well. Any mages too. Put us on a war footing, in case this is the start of something nefarious. And I distinctly remember insisting that our sailors spend as little time as possible on land. This goes against that."

  "Yes, Magus," Woodbone said. He bowed, then darted out of the room a moment later while Maldrak slid a pin through the knot of his ascot.

  He ran his fingers through his hair, pulled a hat on, then took a moment to slip into some comfortable walking boots. On the way out, he picked up his cane from next to the doorway. Stepping out of his room, he discovered Nocthorn waiting for him while Woodbone was off, likely carrying out his instructions. "Shall we?" he asked.

  "Yes, Magus," she said.

  "So, you were awake so early?"

  "Studying, sir," she said. "On my own. Until I heard a commotion."

  Well, something didn't add up there, but he decided not to question the indiscretions of the youth. Youth who were all old enough to make their own mistakes. "Very well," he said.

  They were soon on the ship's main deck, and he discovered the captain stepped out alongside them, hat clamped under the crook of one arm while he tucked his shirt in. "Magus," the captain greeted. "You've heard?"

  "A sailor has passed away," he said. "I imagine you'll wish to investigate this as much as I?"

  "I can't have my people dying in the night. They're a superstitious enough lot as it is," the captain said.

  They reached the gangplank off the Gentle Tidings where a number of sailors were gathered already. On seeing their captain approach, however, they made way, and soon Maldrak and the captain were down on the docks, accompanied by a couple of officers and Magus Nocthorn.

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  The home that the sailors had appropriated for themselves was just off the docks, one of the buildings that was formerly a small business. The lower floor had an open room with now-empty shelving, but the back of the building and its upper floor were occupied by the trappings of a small, humble home. A few rooms with beds and a small kitchen.

  The dead sailor was on the ground floor, slumped halfway out of a low cot with some companions gathered around him.

  Maldrak asked for some calm before he created a magical light. The easy and casual use of magic had the sailors standing at attention, but he didn't quite care. Instead, while the captain questioned his men within his hearing, he looked over the body.

  A young man, perhaps in his twentieth year. Skin tanned and worn by wind and salt-water, but face still youthful with a bit of fat to his cheeks.

  Maldrak floated the body up and off the bed, aware the entire time of the expenditure of effort the spell cost him.

  He spun the young man around slowly, then his eyes narrowed, and he placed the body down onto the cot once more with a little more dignity.

  "Do you see this, Magus Nocthorn?" he said as he moved the young man's leg. It was going stiff already but was still movable.

  "Hmm? Oh, there are punctures?" she asked.

  "A bite," he said. "Small. Likely from either the fangs of an insect, or a small snake. But see here, the way his veins are darkened on this leg, but not the other?" Maldrak produced a small blade with magic and cut it near the twin incisions.

  The corpse bled, but slowly, as though the man's blood had turned to jelly.

  "Venom," he said. "Though I couldn't guess at the source. We may want to question the locals. They may be serfs, but they've lived in these environs their entire lives, and will know of any local threats."

  The young magus next to him shivered, and he noticed her stepping so that her feet were closer together and further from any shadows cast by the room's furnishings.

  Maldrak stood, and pretended not to hear the crack in his knees at the motion. Perhaps less time spent sitting in an office would do him good. As he walked over to the captain, he noticed that the puppets were out and about. The three of them silently watched from across the street, though they didn't approach. "Any news?" he asked the captain.

  "Nothing. They made to sleep here on account of the more comfortable rooming, but all those who were here claim innocence," the captain said. "And I'm inclined to believe them. There was no enmity in this lot, and they had no access to liquor, nor do I smell it on them."

  Maldrak nodded. "I suspect that our man died from a bite. There is some dangerous fauna on this continent. Flora as well. With the current condition of the land, it's liable to only become more dangerous in the foreseeable future." Maldrak sighed. "Remind the men that there will be no sleeping off the Gentle Tidings."

  "I imagine they'll have an incentive to listen now," the captain said. "I'll have those who disobeyed be the ones to dig their man's grave."

  Maldrak nodded. "Very well. Keep discipline going, we can't afford to lose many men."

  "Aye, Sir."

  He nodded and slid out of the home and into the fresher morning air. The sun had finally risen, though it was still just a burning line on the mountainous horizon to the east.

  "You're up early," Jorvin said as he stomped over. The knight was in half-plate, a longsword at his hip and sabatons over his thick boots that clunked with every step. He looked halfway ready for war.

  "Unfortunately," Maldrak said. "I suppose we might as well make the best of it, break our fast early, and then head out. The day hasn't had an auspicious start, but hopefully we can turn it around."

  "Hah! I heard. One man dead. Don't feel too bad about it. I've never seen an expedition without some death on it, and this one seems more dangerous than most."

  "I believe I shall worry about it all the same," Maldrak said. "But we will see if my worry has teeth soon enough. Come, let's get ready and then depart."

  Maldrak glanced back at the house, where the young sailor's body was being carried out on the very cot he died upon, only a blanket saving his dignity. One death wasn't so bad, but they could hardly afford to make a habit of it.

  ***