Renado was looking at a field that stretched toward the horizon. It was dotted with lone trees and the rare copse, but in a way, it was similar to another view in a similar context. The first time he had reappeared, he’d gazed down into the ceaseless waters of the Grey Sea. Today, he gazed out across a sea of tall grass.
“We’re here,” Asar muttered, and Ren looked at him. His old sailing mate looked around them and added, “Wherever here is.” Continue reading Renado 21
The day had come at last. Renado gazed at the work he had done, after a half-hour of sharpening his sword’s blade and polishing the smooth steel. It wasn’t the same weapon he had wielded last year—to everyone else, two-year’s past—but it would serve him well in the future, he hoped. He had donned a boiled leather cuirass, which was a little more armour than he was accustomed to. Still, many of the soldiers of the Great Isle, many days south of them by sails, wore big suits of plate armour. Continue reading Renado 20
“Well, I’m going, obviously,” Woodro muttered.
A few guffaws echoed around the circle, but Ren didn’t laugh. The remaining members of his original crew stood in a circle with him, along with a few of the crew from Captain Urro’s vessel, as the sun set behind the Isle of Dusk’s strange hill. Through the trees, the blinding rays became a muted orange glow. He nodded. “Woodro, thank you,” he said. His friend had broken the awkward silence that followed the announcement that they would accept the teleportation spell to reach their destination. No one was pleased about it. Continue reading Renado 19
Dried sweat was crusted against the back of Ren’s neck and made his forehead feel crinkly when he raised his eyebrows. He wrung out the washcloth he had used to scrub his face with and gave it another go, this time rubbing his throat, his shoulders, the front of his scalp. He was sore, exhausted, and starving. With a muster of energy, he tossed the damp cloth onto a wall-mounted hook near the wash basin and strode away.
In the wide dining hall where the magicians that came and went from the Isle dined, he was greeted by the warm smell of fresh bread and honey, as well as his brother Lerran’s perpetually scowling face. Ren slumped down in the chair across the long table from his brother and rested his head in his hands. “They’re working us to the bone.” Continue reading Renado 18
Ren dropped down, one hand bearing his weight against the sandy ground, and shoved forward under the swipe of Shan’s enormous axe. The magician stepped back before Ren’s diving thrust could make a connection, and brought the disproportionately large weapon smashing into the ground. Ren barely rolled out of the way. With practiced dexterity, he kicked his legs up and flipped up to his feet again. With one hand against the back of his sabre, he blocked the speedy follow up attack and skidded back a few steps. Continue reading Renado 17
The settlement on the Isle of Dusk seemed to have no name at all, or was referred to simply as Dusk. Ren was given a simple guest room in one of the buildings, along with most of his loyal warriors. When he awoke each morning, it was because the sun had risen over the edge of the hill and set a glow across his bed. He rose from the hammock, and strung it out of the way. His room was small, and a trunk with his belongings had been placed beneath the sleeping sack. He pulled on a tunic and dabbed his hands into a small basin of water.
Lerran and Tassina had been given a larger suite in the adjacent building, but Ren had suggested a capable warrior join them. Karsef had volunteered for posting as that sentry, and slept on a small cushioned couch that had been already been present. Continue reading Renado 16
The grey waters were slowly displaced by the hull of Captain Urro’s ship as they crossed those last few miles toward the mysterious isle. It was morning, not dusk, but the land was as still and lonely as it had seemed when it was just a spec on the horizon. The star charts were accurate, but would any map of the ocean save Lerran’s ebbing life? Renado leaned over the bow railing and watched the salt waves give way. He turned and looked down the length of the craft. Tassina and Woodro stood near the Captain, at the helm of Storm. Would he vanish, once more? Or perish in a more permanent sense?
“We’ll anchor soon,” Ren told his comrades as he climbed the steps to the half-deck where Storm’s wheel was built. “And, if they let us, we’ll take a rowboat to the shore.” Continue reading Renado 15
“How is he?” Ren asked. He leaned on the side-rail of Storm as they charged across the dark tide of Comet Cove. He had sailed these waters hundreds of times aboard the Dispatch. Vanci’s ship had been swift, but compared to Captain Urro’s galley, it was only mediocre. Ren had been Vanci’s first mate for five years under Gharo’s authority. When last he chopped through these warm waves, his entire world had changed unbeknownst to him. Continue reading Renado 14
Woodro gave Ren good news over the card game they were playing. “I spoke to someone who claims Captain Urro is in Sheld, despite everything that’s happened. He’s the only man I’d have bring us across the waves on a venture this… foolish.”
“Foolish?” Ren asked, examining the cards he’d been dealt. Continue reading Renado 13
Ren woke up quietly, pursing his dry lips. His throat was sore. He blinked and shook his head. He was sitting on the floor and had fallen asleep against the dark wooden wall behind him. He looked around the small inn room in the Royal Rogue and let out his breath in a long sigh. Tass was asleep on a pile of cushions, her dark green gown wrinkled and her hair dishevelled, while Woodro sat in a chair near the window, looking down into the river canyon that cut through Sheld. The warrior was not asleep, but didn’t notice Renado’s awakening. Continue reading Renado 12