Chasing the Prophecy

“Is the plan good?” Jason hoped.

“Superb. They won’t be expecting anything this bold. They couldn’t possibly anticipate the amount of manpower we’ve assembled. This hijacking is daring enough to fall completely outside of their expectations. The Valiant made port today. Most of the crew will be carousing and enjoying the inns tonight. Those standing guard in the middle of the night will be disgruntled and careless. What could happen to an interceptor moored in a port firmly under imperial control? These soldiers haven’t seen real action for years. In combat situations surprise means a lot, and it should be entirely on our side.”

“So you’re more worried about afterward.”

“I’m worried about everything. Too much could go wrong. And if things go wrong, they will go very wrong. If our surprise is somehow foiled, this could end disastrously. If our enemy takes more clever or effective action than we’ve anticipated, we could be massacred. And even if we get away, it is only the beginning. We’ll be sailing to an island nobody has survived, with every soldier in the region after us. Not a favorable scenario.”

“Wow,” Jason said, feeling he now had a better grasp of why he should be freaking out.

“This is the sort of scheme you devise as an idle fantasy, and then lay aside.”

“But we can’t lay it aside.”

“If we’re determined to get to Windbreak Island, this is probably the only way. No better alternative exists. The prophecy claims we have to get there. Greedy or not, we’re being forced to pursue the big score. It goes against my instincts, which makes me edgy.”

“I’m pretty wired too,” Jason admitted. “I think I get what you mean. I’ve spent most of my time in Lyrian trying to avoid danger. Tonight we’re charging straight into it.”

Aram rubbed the sides of his nose with both hands, partially hiding his face. “Truth be told? My instincts keep telling me to run. And listening to my instincts has kept me alive so far.”

“You think we should run?”

“Not all of us. I was speaking about myself.”

Jason felt shocked by the admission. “You don’t really want to ditch us?”

Aram gave a weak smile. “I definitely want to run. I’ve never liked sitting still. I almost took action yesterday, before the Valiant had been sighted.”

“You almost left?” Jason gasped. “Really?”

“I wouldn’t bring it up if I meant to actually do it.”

“Then why bring it up at all?”

“I thought it might mean something for you to know that the thought of you helped keep me here.”

“Me?” Jason asked.

“I had to ask myself how committed I was to this cause. I had to confront whether I was willing to go all the way, to venture into dangers from which I had little chance of returning. I knew Jasher and Drake wouldn’t give up. The mission would go forward without me, and I could picture my presence making little difference whether it succeeded or failed. But then I thought about you. I thought about a young man who didn’t belong to this world, who had managed to make a difference without many of the skills I might have supposed were necessary. And I realized that if a stranger like you held true, a man of Lyrian like myself had no right to depart.”

“Wow,” Jason said. He could hardly believe his actions had mattered so much to a warrior like Aram. “So you’re not leaving?”

“I’ll hold true.”

“Even though your instincts don’t like it?”

“Even so.” Aram stood up and crossed to the door. “I’ll be growing soon. Antsy or not, you should try to sleep. We won’t get underway until the stillest hour of the night.”

“Thanks for talking with me,” Jason said. “It helps to know I’m not the only person feeling anxious.”

“We should all be anxious! Maybe it will keep us sharp. This is a grim endeavor. We’ll need to be at our best tonight.”

Jason wondered what his best would look like. He hoped he would measure up. “I’ll give it everything I’ve got.”

“I believe it,” Aram replied. He glanced at the weapon on the bed. “Don’t wear out your sword arm.”

* * *

Jason slept restlessly, tossing and turning, waking up at intervals. When Drake came for him, Jason was awake, staring silently at the darkness. He rolled out of bed as soon as the door opened.

“Did you sleep?” Drake asked.

“Sort of,” Jason replied. “I felt tense.”

“Hiding away like this for most of a week would make anyone edgy. I’ll be glad to get on the water. Been some time since I toured the Inland Sea.”

Jason buckled on his sword and grabbed his crossbow. “Where are the others?”

“Some are already moving into position,” Drake replied. “The idea is to reach the docks without looking like fifty people.”

A male and female drinling awaited outside his room. Jason had not learned all the names, but these two were called Thag and Zoo. Both looked to be in their twenties. Both spoke English without much confidence, but seemed to banter cheerily with their comrades in their native tongue. Zoo was slender for a drinling, but had a sinewy toughness. Thag’s hulking muscles were developed to the point where it seemed they would limit his movement.

Drake led Jason and the two drinlings down to the enclosed alleyway outside the secret rooms. Overhead, a rectangular section of black sky glittered with stars. The curly-haired barkeeper waited at the far end of the little courtyard beside a ladder that led up to a window. Jason climbed the ladder behind Drake and entered the inn. A few drinlings lingered in the common room.

“The other drinlings will follow behind us,” Drake said. “Most have gone ahead. Come.”

Shadowing Drake, Jason exited the front door and climbed the steps to the street. He kept his crossbow hidden under his cloak. Nobody had weapons visible. The street was silent.

“How late is it?” Jason whispered.

“Less than two hours until first light,” Drake replied. “The moon has set. We’re going directly to the Valiant.”

They advanced along the side of the road at a brisk walk. The drinlings had their hoods up. A calm breeze blew against Jason’s back.

“Wind from the southwest,” Drake mentioned. “Close to ideal.”

The road ended at the waterfront. The bulky shapes of sailing vessels loomed in the darkness, lit by stars and a dozen dockside lanterns. Other lamps shed light aboard a few of the ships. Fires danced along the top of the sea wall that stretched out into the harbor: torches and cressets. At the mouth of the harbor, where the two walls almost met, a pair of bonfires blazed, the flames reflecting off the dark water.