© 2010, Patrick Hester.  All Rights Reserved

Chapter Sixteen

Eli lay in his bunk, a bandage wound tightly around his head.  Everything was a jumble in his mind.  Narut sat on the edge of the bed with a cup of something foul smelling that the medic had ordered Eli to drink twice a day for the next week.

“Putting it off longer isn’t going to make it taste any better,” Narut laughed.  “In fact, I think it gets stronger the longer it sits.  Like peppers.”

Eli groaned, then took the cup and drained it without a second thought.  He used to watch his little sister pin his little brother in the garden, then make him eat dirt.  He imagined even that tasted better than this.

“What will happen to them?” he wheezed.  It was burning on the way down.  He shuddered.

“Probably execution.  Or just send them to Evermist and let the island take care of them, I don’t know,” Narut sighed.  “If that happens, we will have to watch for them.”  He stood up and stretched.  “You recognized him?” he asked.

Eli nodded, remembering, then saw stars and doubled over.  “I did,” he squeaked when he could catch a breath again.  Headaches, they told him?  He’d never had a headache so bad his stomach turned queasy.  How hard had they hit him?

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Chapter Fifteen

When they staggered as a group from the inn, all they could manage was to giggle like fools.  Fyet was the first to stumble, causing Eli, who was supporting the other at the time, to stumble as well.  This caused a chain reaction and they all ended up on the snowy ground laughing.

Broat was able to stand before the others and he pulled each of them to their feet and pointed them down the lane towards the ship, giving a shove for each to start them walking again.

“That’s him,” someone whispered.  Eli looked around, curious as to the source.  He could just make out the shapes of four men standing in their path and well in the shadows away from the torches burning on either side of the inn’s door. He smiled at them, about to ask for a hand and wondering how silly they must all look.  “Kill him!” the one closest to him shouted and he saw something flash in the torchlight.

“Murder!” Broat shouted at the top of his lungs, diving for the man and shoving Eli aside all in the same motion.

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Chapter Fourteen

Two more stops in cities much smaller than Southport that afforded no chances for shoreleave had left Eli and his friends restless and, in Fyet’s case, quite green.  For his part, Eli didn’t think a life at sea would ever be in his own future; he simply could not get used to the feeling of confinement below decks nor the motion of the ship and the way it affected his stomach.  Were it not for Narut’s miracle root, he was sure he would be in no better shape than Fyet.

Nearly two months after dinner with Narut’s family at The Lady Elle, SeaSpray slipped into a berth on a cold morning when the sky was overcast and the wind cut even through Eli’s cloak pulled tightly around him.

Broat supported the very green Fyet as the four friends made their way down the gangplank and onto the docks.  The second mate, Adia, smiled and waved at Narut as they passed by.  Eli saw them whispering together more than once over the course of the journey North, and Narut blushed whenever he mentioned it.  Eli was glad to have the chance to make his friend feel the same heat in his face that he’d had to endure about Millie.

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Chapter Thirteen

Narut stared.  Southport was fading behind them and Elias wondered if it was only just hitting his friend that they were leaving home.

The days spent in Southport had been good ones, with Narut’s family keeping the four of them well fed and happy, not to mention the fact that the rest of their squad descended on The Lady Elle once they found out how amazing the food was and that Militia received discounts on everything.  Narut had said the place hadn’t seen as much custom in a season as they had in those two and a half days the Seaspray was in port.

They still had weeks before they would port in Evermist, but it seemed as if everyone onboard had become more subdued.  A calm and a quiet had come to rest on the Seaspray, and as Southport slowly melted away behind them, Elias felt that quiet seeping into his mind.

“Ravi is a good boy,” Narut said suddenly.  “He does what is asked of him and rarely complains.  Momma said he will have to go out with Poppa soon to work the nets.  The restaurant cannot support them all.  He will need to earn his keep in others ways and let the younger children work with Momma.”

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Chapter Twelve

The city of Southport lay flat where Valles was built upon hills.  Like Valles, Southport had a fort to divide the port from the city proper and that fort cut back and forth, with multiple gates to provide defenders with opportunities to fall back when needed.  Though no one had attacked a port city in a dozen generations, the forts still stood and the Militia was still vigilant.  Also like Valles, Southport had a bustling trade district inside the walls of the fort closest to the docks where traders could load and offload goods from ships directly into their shops and warehouses.

As Eli and his friends stepped away from the ship, their names were entered into the book by the harbormasters assistant.  Each Militia leaving the Seaspray had to register to be allowed past the gates and into the trade district.  Just as in Valles, the risk of desertion was high, so they would not have passes allowing them deeper into the fort or beyond it into the city.

Eli looked out, imagining that he could see past the fort walls, past the inner city with its too close, too tall homes, past the fountains of the Plaza with their dizzying display of water jets that fed from one statue to the next, out beyond the cobblestone streets where the roads were hard packed clay and lead to the outlying ranches.  His maternal grandparents lived out there, on a ranch with horses and a thousand places where a boy could find one adventure or another on a too bright day when no one particularly bothered to look for him and he was free to roam and explore.

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Chapter Eleven

Elias set his tray down and took his seat on the bench across from Narut and Broat.  The root did work, and his stomach was closer to normal, enough so that he managed to eat again without bringing it all up an hour later.

“Narut was explaining to me why we have to take the long way to Evermist, Elias.  Why we can’t just head straight North.”

Elias nodded, sipping at his water.  He hadn’t thought about that.  Evermist should be a straight shot North from Valles, but they were heading in the opposite direction, down around the cape towards Southport and then up the backside of the island.

“The Ilea Isles and the shallows,” Narut announced.  “Only flat bottomed boats like my father’s fisher can safely sail there.  The water isn’t very deep, there’s lots of coral and sandbars.  A ship like Seaspray would run aground if she tried to go straight through, and navigating through would have her snaking back and forth and there’d always be the danger of running into something.”

“So, the ‘long way’ is actually safer and faster?” Elias asked as he took a spoonful of the stew.  It was heavy with fish and spices, but still good.  He tore his bread apart and dipped it.

“Yep.  Plus, they can trade with the seaports along the way, drop one cargo and pick up another.”

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Evermist: Chapter Ten

Elias gripped the railing tightly.  With every swell of The Seaspray, he felt his stomach churn and rumble.  Any moment and he knew he’d lose what little food he’d been able to eat so far, and he’d only been on the ship two days.  How would he feel after a week?  A month?  At least he wasn’t as bad as Fyet who spent most of his time in bed groaning.

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” he said, handing Millie the letter he’d written to his mother, not his father.  He thought that safer.  It had as much as he dared ask about his father.  He knew that his mother was no happier with his going to Evermist than he, and that his parents had fought about it more than once.  Maybe, just maybe, she would be able to tell him more.

“It’s the right thing to do,” she said as she stuffed it behind her belt.  She was wearing a sky-blue dress and had her hair pulled around and draped down her left side, exposing the right side of her neck.  He wanted nothing more than to bury his face there, pull her close again.  But people were watching.

“You’ll be careful?” he asked.

“I will,” she nodded.  “It will not come to her by my hand.  I’ll use one of the boys, the apprentices from the trade district – they’re always looking for extra coppers.”

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Chapter Nine

“You’re so tense.”

Eli felt the warmth of Millie lying beside him, hugging against him.  They lay together on the roof of The Widow’s Apron, staring up at the sky.   Her scent is strong when they are this close, her head tucked just under his chin, her arm draped across his chest.  The blanket is only part of the reason he is so warm in the chill of the night.

“It’s your father, isn’t it?” she asked.

He nodded, eyes focused on the stars above.  Part of him couldn’t help but wonder, as it always did, where they came from.  Legends told it was from somewhere up there, that they’d traveled on boats that cut across the night sky instead of the oceans.  That was so long ago, though, that no one knew for sure if it was the truth, or simply a tale someone had told once to amuse a crowd.

From the time he first heard the story as a child, he’d wanted to know more, know the truth.  He’d spent hours upon hours in the library at school, looking for any books that might contain more information, but all he ever found were more myths and legends and most of those contradicted each other.

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Chapter Eight

“Evermist!” Sergent Fesh’s voice boomed as always, but this time everyone jumped over what he said and not how he said it.

“For weeks now,” he continued, “You lot have been pussyfooting around the subject. Afraid of what’ll happen should you say the name out loud. Well, that ends now.”

The man walked up and down the line, making a point to look each and every one of them in the eye. As he met that gaze, those cold blue eyes, Elias suppressed the urge to shudder, instead managing to stand just a little bit taller, a little bit straighter. It almost looked like Fesh nodded, but he was sure he’d imagined it.

“Evermist,” he repeated in a softer tone as he ended his circuit through the squad and turned to stand before them. “You lot’ll be heading there – you already know this – your orders are in. At least half won’t return, probably more. Half of those who do will be maimed in some way. Those remaining few’ll be touched by it all. You won’t see things quite the same way anymore.”

No shuffling, no sound of any kind.

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Evermist: Chapter Seven

Elias stood before the mirror adjusting his shirt beneath his coat, hand straying to the freshly stitched patch on his shoulder; a bullseye with a small rifle laid across it and the word ‘Marksman’ in white just beneath. He couldn’t help but grin.

“Okay, okay – we all know you got the Marksman’s patch!” Narut chided him as he entered their room still wrapped in his towel and fresh from the shower. “No need to rub it in!”

Elias grinned. “I’m not! I’m just… I didn’t actually think it would happen is all.”

“Right,” Narut said as he started dressing. “That gets you an extra half silver a month, right? I should have practiced more!”

Elias laughed nervously. The pay increase had been a surprise, the average Militiaman making a silver and a half per month where he’d make a solid two. He almost shook his head at that. His allowance at home had been a silver and a half a week for the last three years.

“Three weeks left before… You seeing Millie tonight?”

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