Empress Aurora Trilogy Quest For the Kingdom Parts I, II, and III Revised With Index (Quest For the Kingdom Set) by L. M. Roth Page B
Authors: L. M. Roth
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who walk in the wild in the gloom of night. They light
our path in the dark. They hum a chant to Bjorrne. They help us,” he firmly
stated.
Marcus paused
before answering. Truly the natives of this land had some strange beliefs! He
dared not look at Felix.
“Oh,” he said
at last. “I see.”
Now as they
prepared to board the small ship, Marcus looked around the trading post. What a
bustle of activity after the stillness of the forest! He had almost forgotten
the sound of civilization. He and Felix had set out in mid-January. That was
three weeks ago. It would soon be spring.
The creak of
the ramp beneath his feet returned him to the present. The voyage would take at
least three weeks, if the weather proved good. But at the end of it lay the end
of his quest. Or so he hoped.
The wind
howled, furling the sails in the rigging. Seawater shot up and over the deck,
spraying Marcus with an icy splash. The small ship rocked violently from side
to side, the storm shaking her in its fury.
Marcus, Felix,
and Dag had come up on deck, not liking the confinement of their quarters
below. The tempest had raged for hours, beating the boat in its grasp.
The Captain
called out to the young men where they stood.
“I need every
man. The crew have their hands full already. Follow me.”
He led them
down the narrow staircase that went below deck. He needed, he explained, the
tarpaulins to take above board and cover the decks, to keep the seawater from
rotting the planks.
They followed
him to a long wooden trough where the tarpaulins were piled in a heap. The
topmost came easily to hand and he handed them to the three young men who held
out their arms to receive them.
The Captain reached
for the tarpaulin on the bottom, but it appeared to snag on something. He
yanked but it seemed stuck. Then with a mighty heave he pulled on the tarpaulin
with all of his might. It came free but the Captain fell over backwards. At the
same moment a small lad of about ten years of age leaped out of the trough and
tried to run away.
“A stowaway!
Seize him!” the Captain commanded.
Dag was
closest and tackled the lad and threw him to the floor. The child attempted to
squirm out of his clutches and punched Dag in the nose.
“Ow!” Dag
yelled and attempted to stem the sudden flow of blood.
Felix and
Marcus dropped their tarpaulins and danced on either side of the small boy.
They signaled to one another and at the same moment leaped toward him and
knocked him to the ground, pinning him securely underneath them.
“Let me go!
Let me go!” the child cried out in the Common Tongue.
“I ought to
toss you overboard!” the Captain exclaimed. “Boarding my ship without paying.
It’s a disgrace, it is!”
“Oh please,
don’t kill me! I had no money and I had to take the ship. I had to leave home!”
the boy whimpered and clutched the captain’s hand.
“And why
should I let you on my ship without paying like everyone else?” the Captain
thundered.
“Well, I could
help,” the child said quickly as his face brightened. “I could scrub decks, do
hard work. But I can’t go back home!”
The child hung
his head of tousled blond curls. His blue eyes filled with tears. By the look
of his reddened nose, he had shed many tears already.
“If I go back,
I will be sold as a slave. To the Hoffingi, our Tribal Chief. I heard this on
the night before I left. My mother and father spoke of it when they thought I
lay asleep in my bed. My father had a bad year hunting. He was given grain by
the Hoffingi but could not repay with pelts. So the Chief wants me to be his
slave. He is cruel and will beat me. Please do not send me back there!”
Marcus caught
his breath and quenched a torrent of words. How cruel to sell one’s own child
to pay a debt! He who knew the feel of the irons, the despair of bondage, could
not stand by and permit this to happen.
“Captain,
whatever the cost of his fare, I will pay it. You cannot toss him overboard,
and he is too
our path in the dark. They hum a chant to Bjorrne. They help us,” he firmly
stated.
Marcus paused
before answering. Truly the natives of this land had some strange beliefs! He
dared not look at Felix.
“Oh,” he said
at last. “I see.”
Now as they
prepared to board the small ship, Marcus looked around the trading post. What a
bustle of activity after the stillness of the forest! He had almost forgotten
the sound of civilization. He and Felix had set out in mid-January. That was
three weeks ago. It would soon be spring.
The creak of
the ramp beneath his feet returned him to the present. The voyage would take at
least three weeks, if the weather proved good. But at the end of it lay the end
of his quest. Or so he hoped.
The wind
howled, furling the sails in the rigging. Seawater shot up and over the deck,
spraying Marcus with an icy splash. The small ship rocked violently from side
to side, the storm shaking her in its fury.
Marcus, Felix,
and Dag had come up on deck, not liking the confinement of their quarters
below. The tempest had raged for hours, beating the boat in its grasp.
The Captain
called out to the young men where they stood.
“I need every
man. The crew have their hands full already. Follow me.”
He led them
down the narrow staircase that went below deck. He needed, he explained, the
tarpaulins to take above board and cover the decks, to keep the seawater from
rotting the planks.
They followed
him to a long wooden trough where the tarpaulins were piled in a heap. The
topmost came easily to hand and he handed them to the three young men who held
out their arms to receive them.
The Captain reached
for the tarpaulin on the bottom, but it appeared to snag on something. He
yanked but it seemed stuck. Then with a mighty heave he pulled on the tarpaulin
with all of his might. It came free but the Captain fell over backwards. At the
same moment a small lad of about ten years of age leaped out of the trough and
tried to run away.
“A stowaway!
Seize him!” the Captain commanded.
Dag was
closest and tackled the lad and threw him to the floor. The child attempted to
squirm out of his clutches and punched Dag in the nose.
“Ow!” Dag
yelled and attempted to stem the sudden flow of blood.
Felix and
Marcus dropped their tarpaulins and danced on either side of the small boy.
They signaled to one another and at the same moment leaped toward him and
knocked him to the ground, pinning him securely underneath them.
“Let me go!
Let me go!” the child cried out in the Common Tongue.
“I ought to
toss you overboard!” the Captain exclaimed. “Boarding my ship without paying.
It’s a disgrace, it is!”
“Oh please,
don’t kill me! I had no money and I had to take the ship. I had to leave home!”
the boy whimpered and clutched the captain’s hand.
“And why
should I let you on my ship without paying like everyone else?” the Captain
thundered.
“Well, I could
help,” the child said quickly as his face brightened. “I could scrub decks, do
hard work. But I can’t go back home!”
The child hung
his head of tousled blond curls. His blue eyes filled with tears. By the look
of his reddened nose, he had shed many tears already.
“If I go back,
I will be sold as a slave. To the Hoffingi, our Tribal Chief. I heard this on
the night before I left. My mother and father spoke of it when they thought I
lay asleep in my bed. My father had a bad year hunting. He was given grain by
the Hoffingi but could not repay with pelts. So the Chief wants me to be his
slave. He is cruel and will beat me. Please do not send me back there!”
Marcus caught
his breath and quenched a torrent of words. How cruel to sell one’s own child
to pay a debt! He who knew the feel of the irons, the despair of bondage, could
not stand by and permit this to happen.
“Captain,
whatever the cost of his fare, I will pay it. You cannot toss him overboard,
and he is too
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