Renado 15

1479-7-16-renado-15

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.”

“With Lerran?” Tass wondered.  Ren just shook his head.  They all knew that whatever forces were controlled by the island’s inhabitants, the first challenge would be interacting with them at all.

It was a dark day, and though the clouds did not blow the ship off course, a gentle rain was falling.  The island appeared to be a large, flat hill.  Occasional trees dotted its form.  Where Ren had once seen distant humans conjuring whatever spell had whisked his friends and he forth, he saw no one.  An empty rock in the middle of the Grey Sea.

“Here is good,” Renado said, and the anchor was lowered.  He took Woodro, three of Captain Urro’s sailors, and one of Storm’s two rowboats.  Woodro seemed anxious, but he had survived this place once before and then much, much more.

They splashed through the waves when the water got shallow enough.  The shore of the Isle of Dusk was subtle, not jagged and rocky.  Ren tugged the boat’s hull with his hands and they at last put foot on the strange piece of land.  Woodro paused, and put a hand on Ren’s arm while they were trying to untangle a mooring rope from the stern of the wide canoe.  Ren looked to the beach.

A man stood there, wearing a plain brown robe.  He had olive skin like Ren’s family, a well-trimmed and oiled beard, and a shaved scalp.  Renado put a hand on his sword, but the stranger spread his hands wide and bowed his head.  “Welcome to the Isle of Dusk.  I am Telan.”

“Thank you,” Ren said quietly, and let his knuckles off his sword hilt.  He stood Woodro down too.

Telan drew his lips into a taut line.  “Don’t thank me yet, but do not fear: we will not be sending you away this time.”  Woodro cursed, but Ren nodded politely.  The magician spoke up once more. “We were sad to see the condition that the Atmos Septi left Sheld in.  Is there some way we may aid you?”

“I have a few injured on the ship, and I was wondering if you could help with their treatment.”

With a sigh, Telan explained, “This is greatly against the usual protocols that govern this Isle.  In fact, letting you stand on that sand is… unusual.  How dire are the wounded?”

“Very wounded,” Renado said.  “In the attack on Sheld, my brother was seriously wounded.  He will likely die, if you cannot aid us.”

The magician blinked at mention of Ren’s brother.  “Of course, we can work something out,” Telan said.  “Does Lerran still make decisions for your Family?”

“Right now?  Not so much.” Ren scratched his cheek. “He’s in no shape to lead the Family”

“Do you speak on the Family’s behalf, then?”

Renado blinked.  “Yes.  I’m speaking for them right now, because with Lerran in his current condition, he can not, and our father is no longer with the living.”

Telan raised an eyebrow at that bit of news.  “The first order of business is the Vows, which state that you may not speak of our presence on this Isle or any of the things you see here.  We will not act in any manner without each of those who come ashore accepting them.”

“Deal,” Ren said easily.  The first oath of his Family’s business sorts was to protect information.  “Do you all agree?”

The magician interrupted him.  “No, this is not a simple matter of speech.  You must come with me.  The Vows are binding, not fleeting like words in the wind.  The Vows are taken by speaking the rules aloud while holding a specific artifact, the Tether.  The oaths you make will never be broken.”

“Very well, but can we bring the others ashore first?”  Ren wasn’t certain what exactly all that meant, but if it would appease Telan and cost nothing more than a promise, he could manage it.

“Bring all those you wish. Any who step ashore must take the Vows.” As Ren turned back to his rowboat, Telan said, “Do not bring the wounded at this time—we’ll discuss their wellbeing once the insurance of these oaths has been accepted.”

“Woodro,” Renado drawled.  “Tie the boat up.”

Though the Isle of Dusk had seemed like a single hill from the water, Ren soon realized it was shaped like a bowl.  As Telan led them up, through the vine-laden trees and bushes, they crested the hill and entered a steep stairway overlooking a town of stone buildings surrounding a large well.  This entire settlement was hidden from view.  On the far side of the town, a small pathway led toward one small opening in the ‘wall’ of the hill around the town, perhaps to a dock.

Telan led them into a shrine near the centre of the town, a steeple roof supported by three walls.  The opening admitted them to a square space, with three shelves along each wall at torso height.  Resting on top of a cloth was a long white rope that ran from one corner of the structure to the other.  There was another magician there, waiting with a large book.  He opened to one of the first pages.  “Each of you should touch the rope and repeat the words that Norgin speaks.”

Ren sighed.  “Woodro, and you three.  Do as he said.”  They all touched the rope—it was warm to the touch, and filled Ren with a feeling of warmth.  It really was magic, he realized, as an afterthought.  He had never actually touched magic, even if he had been teleported hundreds of miles by magicians he’d never spoken to.

“Ready?”  Norgin did not wait after that.  He nodded and began to read.  After each phrase, Ren and his friends repeated the words.  “I agree to be bound by the following vows when absent from this Isle: I may not name the Isle out loud or in writing.  I may not share details of any names, objects, or information gained on the Isle except with people who have taken the Vows.  I may not speak of the Isle’s purpose—I may only refer to what transpires on the Isle by speaking in general terms, such as a ‘meeting’ or a ‘delivery’.  And lastly, I may not speak of the Vows I have taken on the Isle, unless I am on the Isle.”

“…unless I am on the Isle,” Ren said, completing his oath.  Aside from the Tether, as Telan had described it, he felt no different than he had after making other promises in his life.  He looked at Woodro, who was scowling, and then back to Telan.

“Thank you for agreeing to these rules,” Telan said.  He waved toward the well in the center of the settlement.  There were two women speaking on a balcony to Ren’s left, but he couldn’t hear their words.  Their guide clasped his hands together loudly.  “Now, to address your brother’s health.  Where would you go and what would you do, if Lerran was in peak condition?”

Ren shrugged.  “I could not tell you where we will go next.  After what happened in Sheld, he may want some revenge.”

“Understandable,” the magician said with a chuckle.  “However, loyal sailors, smugglers, and warriors are something of a rarity here.  There are those who would pay dearly for such service.  Would you consider an agreement such as this?”

Ren looked at the water in the well.  Servitude… Gharo would never have agreed to it, nor would have any leader of the Family in their golden age.  But this was not the prime any longer.  “I would agree to it,” he said, quietly.  He looked back at Telan.  “But I must Lerran.  That is not a contract I can swear to without him.”

For some reason, Telan grinned.  “Of course.  Return to the shore when you have made your decision, so we may determine some specifics.”

It was a quiet walk back to the ship.  Woodro worried about if the magicians were in his head now, not just sending him across the sea, but no one struck up a conversation on such terms.  The trees were barely swayed by the wind, but Ren’s shoulders were beginning to grow damp from the occasional rain drops.  He didn’t say much more than a word until he climbed onto the deck of Storm again, alongside his friends.

“What happened?” Tass asked, coming to his side at once.  “I saw you standing on the beach earlier, and then going inland.”

Renado blinked.  Try as he might, he could not say ‘There was a man there, didn’t you see him?’  Instead he regarded Tass mutely for a moment, trying to describe their strange encounter as best he could.  At last, all he managed was: “A meeting happened.”

“A meeting?” Tass asked.  “So there were magicians?”

Ren couldn’t say that either.  “Yes, there are people on the Isle,” he said.  It was something they had all known already.

“Did it go that poorly?” Tassina asked.  “What happened?”

“It happened, and I’m back here.”  Ren cursed beneath his breath.  His words were so vague, and there was nothing he could do about it.  The Vows held him to the Isle’s rules without the slightest leeway.  “Let’s get the wounded and go ashore.”

“… Very well,” Tass said, rolling up her sleeves.  She waved one of the sailors to the hatch, so he could open the door for them.  “So they’re going to help?”

Renado ground his teeth.  “Let’s get the wounded,” was all he said.

Tass wouldn’t have it.  She put a hand on Ren’s shoulder and turned him to look at her.  “Something’s wrong.  Tell me what’s going on, please.”

Ren shook his head.  “Everything will be better when we’re on the island,” he said.  “Tass, trust me.”

She let out her breath.  “Gods,” she cursed.  “Let’s go.”

After they brought the wounded up to the top deck, they beached their ship.  Captain Urro protested, assuring Ren that the damage would take a day to repair if all the crew worked hard at it, but Ren knew one thing for certain: they would either work for these magicians or they would leave on friendly terms with the magician’s assistance.  If things ended up on unfriendly terms, they would not be leaving.  This was Ren’s thinking, though he found himself unable to express it.

As they descended a rope ladder slung down Storm’s tilted hull, Telan approached again.  The bald man straightened his brown shin-length robe and smiled slightly as he approached the group.  Two dozen sailors were scattered along the beach, speaking in clusters, while Woodro and Ren stood next to a kneeling Tass and a cloth cot where Lerran lay.  The strange magician folded his hands. “Welcome to the Isle of Dusk,” he said quietly, “I assume this is so that you can actually speak to your people?”

Ren nodded.  “Yes, unless you would like to tell them.”

“Tell us what?” Tass asked.  But Telan shrugged and stepped away with a wave of one hand.

With a roll of his eyes, Ren explained, “You have to swear the Vows, and they’re quite effective.”

“And then they’ll heal Lerran?” Tass asked.  She looked down at him, but her husband was lost in an unconscious daze.

Ren scratched his scalp, and knelt next to her.  “No, the Vows are just part of being here,” he explained.  He glanced around—Bran lay in a similar caught, guarded by Asar, Omma, and Karsef. “We have to make a deal to get healing for our wounded.  I wanted to ask Lerran first.”  Ren hated to do so, but he looked up at Woodro, and bobbed his head back.  The loyal warrior shrugged and stepped away.

When Tass finally managed to rouse Lerran, he blinked, and tried to look around.  With a glimpse of the beach and the tree-dotted slope, he groggily asked, “Where are we?”

“Trying to save you,” Ren muttered.

“Any luck?” his brother asked, with a drawn out sigh.

“Well,” Ren chuckled, “that’ll depend on your response to my question.  Some people have asked that we work for them at what we do, in order to pay for saving your life, and Bran’s.”

Lerran sighed again and fidgeted with one of his hands.  He had become so weak, even since they found him in that prison wagon.  His last seizure had been a day earlier and he hadn’t awoken for five hours after it.  “What people?  Secrets and lack of information is what cost me Sheld,” Lerran said, his voice rough.  “So be clear.”

“The magicians here are willing to save your life as long as we put our skills to use for them.”

“And where is here?”

Ren scratched his chin.  “The Isle of Dusk.”

“Gods,” Lerran said.  “You lot are reckless.”  Ren sighed, but his brother went on.  “Let me think.”

Tass put her hand on Lerran’s shoulder, while Ren waited.  It seemed as though Lerran dozed off, but after a moment the Family leader spoke up once more.  “I’m no good laying around like this, and I want to see the face of whatever little person is growing in there.  We’ll take a deal, for our survival, but it’s a temporary one.  And Tass doesn’t work with us.  She gets security.”

Tass interrupted, incredulous.  “But you’d risk your own life on this service?”

“I thought that was a core part of the deal,” Lerran said.

Ren gave him a nod.  “Are you in?”

Lerran inhaled deeply and let it out with a pained shudder.  “I’m in.  On the conditions I’ve said.  I live, Tass is protected, and this deal has a timeframe on it.”

Of course, Telan insisted on discussing such terms before offering the actual healing.  The enigmatic man asked, “How long?”

“Ten jobs,” Lerran replied.  Ren let his brother handle the negotiation, and stood by as a witness and a guard.

“Time,” Telan said, smirking, “Not jobs.  Two years.”

“Six months.”

Telan shook his head.  “It’s your life we’re talking about, and therein, the fate of your Family.”

Lerran trembled, either from pain or frustration.  Tass ran her hand through his hair.  “One year.  That’s the most I will offer.  I’ve let the Family die already, and my life alone is not worth more.”

“On year then.  Agreed,” Telan said, quietly.  “And, to be clear, we’ll offer you the best healing available, but there may be permanent damage.  Your condition appears quite dire.”

Lerran scoffed, and then shuddered.  Ren scowled, but his brother said, “Whatever side-effects remain—you will attempt to relieve them while I am in your service.”

“Very well,” Telan said, raising his eyebrows.  “We will try.”

Ren put his hand on his sword hilt when Telan extended his hand toward him, eliciting a blink from the man’s narrow eyes.  Lerran extended his hand instead, and Telan knelt to clasp it.  When the agreement had been bound, the elusive magician rose to his feet.  “Let’s get to it, then,” he said.  “The healer is in town.”  Renado’s scowl didn’t waiver as he followed the remnants of the Family up the slope.

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