Whisper (4 page)

When Cyrus first came to Maj, he was very much a stranger in a strange land. The people were kind enough to him, but they always seemed a little distant. There was, however, one girl who was bolder than the rest, and Cyrus was drawn to her, like a moth to a flame. They spent more and more time together until, eventually, they were more than inseparable.

Dyanna was the niece of Majin. She was considered quite the prize by the men of the island, though her status also served to heighten the jealousy of some of them. Had Cyrus not been so openly attracted to the girl, he probably would have been accepted more quickly into the community, but people are such selfish creatures; if one has something, three more are sure to want it.

The romance between them blossomed until Cyrus went to Majin to ask to be allowed to join with his niece. Majin’s response was less than kind. He scoffed at the idea of his niece joining with the stranger, not because of any special love he felt for the girl, but because he felt it would diminish his status to be so tied to an outsider.

What an idiot. Can you imagine? People are all ignorant and prejudiced. If they would spend half as much time getting to know others as they spent imagining what their faults might be—”

“Uh, Brin,” Dearra said.

What?

“Cyrus and Dyanna, remember?”

Right, right. Where was I?

“Diminishing status.”

Yes, so, anyway, Lord Moron refused his permission, and a kind of tension settled over the island. Then, one day, a band of pirates attacked—you know, pretty much same old same old for the time. Cyrus joined the other warriors and kept the pirates busy on the beach until they appeared to give up and make their way back to their ships.

Now, keep in mind that I was buried in a box in the woods, and that, at the time, I was feeling pretty indifferent to all of the people of Maj. Plus, I really do try to interfere as little as possible. So it really wasn’t my fault, I think we can both agree that, no matter what, I couldn’t have prevented anything anyway and—

“Brin, I got it. You were in no way responsible. Now, just tell me.”

Well, there were two groups of pirates. One group kept the warriors busy, and the other group snuck ashore to steal what they could. I’m sorry to say that one of them attacked Dyanna when she tried to stop him.

“Attacked? He beat her?”

Yes. Unfortunately, it didn’t end with that. He raped her, too.

Dearra snapped at Brin. “You say it so casually. Have you no heart?”

Believe me when I tell you that I grieve for that day more than you will ever know, but it was a very long time ago, and I have let those memories fade as best as I can. If I would have…

Do you want to hear the story or not?

“Sorry, Brin. Go ahead.”

Dyanna was damaged in her mind and in her heart, as a result of the attack, even more so than in her body. Cyrus would not leave her, and stayed at her side as she was nursed back to health. She viewed her rape as a disgrace, as she was no longer pure. Depression set in, and she could never imagine sharing her life with a man, even if that man was her beloved Cyrus.

Cyrus wanted Dyanna to know the joy and goodness that could be shared between a man and a woman. He was convinced that only a joining would heal the girl, and he begged Majin to let him join with Dyanna, but, again, Majin refused.

Unable to live with the memories of her attack any longer, a week after her ordeal, Dyanna snuck out of her cottage, away from her family, and made her way to the cliffs. When she stepped to the edge, Cyrus appeared out of the mist and called to her. I will not share all of that very private conversation, Dearra, even with you, but, Cyrus told her that while he may not be able to join with her, he could teach her that love was neither brutal nor unkind. He did what he could to heal the wounds that had been left by the rape.

When the babe was born to her nine months after her attack, she did not seem at all resentful of the child, but would coo with love at the handsome, baby boy.

When Dyanna died in the Breken attack on the island, and Cyrus soon after, Majin adopted the boy into his house. Majin was greatly changed after that battle and realized, too late, the wrong he had done, preventing Dyanna and Cyrus from being joined.

Dearra was stunned. “Brin, I…I don’t know what to say. I have never heard that story before.”

Don’t be stupid, Dearra, of course you haven’t. Why would Majin want that stigma to follow the boy and all of his descendants? With the story buried, hiding the child’s parentage wasn’t all that difficult, seeing as your people aren’t much for keeping records of ancestry, anyway. After a couple of hundred years or so, no one talked about it anymore.

“Wow, Brin! That’s so incredible! I wonder if I am a descendant of his.”

Oh, there’s no maybe about it. You are
definitely
descended from that boy.

“Seriously? I can hardly believe it! I am descended from a pirate! Well, that certainly explains a lot,” Dearra said.

A pirate? You? Certainly not! The baby was Cyrus’s. You are a descendant of Cyrus and Dyanna,
Brin said smugly.

Dearra dropped her head to her hands and struggled to stop the room from spinning. When she’d had enough time to fully absorb Brin’s words, she snapped her head upright, and blurted, “That means I’m…we’re…Oh my…I’m Breken.”

Yes, you are. Funny how these things work out, isn’t it?

About four weeks into the voyage, Dearra’s stomach had settled enough for her to join the others on deck. She and Darius spent enormous amounts of time staring at one another when they thought the other wasn’t looking. Little did they know, the only people onboard oblivious to their longing were Dearra and Darius themselves.

Hugh looked at the two young people with pity. He had grown to respect the young Breken, and hated to see the boy he liked and the daughter he loved in such obvious pain. He had tried talking with Daniel about the situation, only to have the gruff weapons master advise him against getting involved in the quarrel. Though Hugh was surprised at how quickly Daniel had cut him off, he resolved not to discuss the possibilities for the rift between the two with anyone onboard.

Daniel and William offered support to the young man by spending time with him and treating him as though nothing had changed. Not long after Carly had related the story to him, Daniel stood next to Darius on deck, clapped him on the arm, and said, “Women underestimate their power over us sometimes, don’t they? I swear, they’ll be the death of us all.”

Darius understood the dual meaning the statement carried. He knew Daniel sympathized with his situation, but he also understood the not-so-hidden warning as to the consequence, should such a thing ever happen again. Though he was humiliated that Daniel, Carly, and William knew of his disgrace, it was also a relief to not have to hide it from those dearest to him. It also explained why every time he passed Carly she looked at him as though she were torn between hugging him and removing body parts she felt he no longer needed.

***

Dearra groaned. “How much longer?”

About two weeks.

“I can’t stand this, Brin! It never ends! There’s nothing to see but water, and nothing to do but eat and sleep. I just can’t stand it.”

Are you done?

“I guess so,” Dearra said, still pouting.

I sit in your room day in and day out. You never take me with you. If you’re bored, think of how I feel. At least you get to smell the salt air and feel a fresh breeze every now and again. The only smells I am privileged to receive have been the half-digested contents of your stomach. I would think that—

“Okay, okay! I will come and get you. My goodness, someone’s cranky today,” Dearra said. She gripped the rail with both hands on her way to her room.

Darius? Can you hear me?
Brin asked, masking his thoughts to all but Darius, now.

It’s a small ship, Brin.

Is that a yes?

If it wasn’t a yes how could I have heard you in the—you know what? Never mind. It won’t do any good, anyway.

Yes, Brin, I can hear you. What is it?

Everyone’s bored. They need a distraction. I think you should tell a story tonight. Everyone seems to enjoy it when you do, and it will lift their spirits.

I begged you to talk to me. I pleaded with you to tell me what she was thinking. Not one word did I get in response, and now you want me to entertain everyone? No. Not a chance. I am not your own personal plaything to be turned on and off at will. Be honest, Brin, it’s you who’s bored, and as far as I’m concerned, you can just suffer through.

Fine, boy; selfish thing. It’s Dearra who ultimately suffers. She’s the one who’s bored. But don’t worry about poor, sweet Dearra. You don’t owe her a thing. You just go ahead and do whatever you want, boy.

Darius rolled his eyes dramatically before he responded.
What kind of story do you think she’d like?

***

That night, everyone not actively engaged in sailing the ship gathered on deck to listen to Darius’s story. They all knew stories of their own, but they had been told and retold so many times that the prospect of hearing something new excited them all.

Only meager starlight and an occasional moonbeam lit the deck as the night sky filled with clouds and the sea winds became a bit more brisk. Darius slowly scanned the group assembled. His voice sounded colder and a little harder than they were used to, when he began to speak.

“The Breken have a legend of a great battle that happened long ago, when the Breken first traveled on the sea. The ships they used were simpler and smaller then, but the Breken desire for conquests and superiority was no less than it is today. The Breken people come from a desert region, and so it is not surprising they did not find life at sea an easy transition, but those who struggled for greater rank and wealth saw it as an opportunity to gain both. Besides, with so many going to war, it could be a chance to rid oneself of a rival. After all, anything could happen in the heat of battle. Who could say how a warrior died when his body slipped from the deck to sink beneath the waves?

“The battle took place far out to sea, miles away from any land. The enemy we fought has been forgotten over the centuries, but it is said that they were a race as cruel and greedy as the Breken themselves. Their lust for power rivaled our own, and the battle between the two peoples would decide which would become the ruling power in the region. The fight went on and on with neither side gaining ground, but neither were willing to surrender or retreat. On the third day, when the waters were red with the blood of the slain, sharks circled the ships, waiting for the bodies of the dead. Finally, a fire was lit on the deck of the enemies command ship, and when the flame turned blue, the Breken knew their enemy had signaled their surrender.

“When the Breken met with their enemy counterparts, their leaders were stunned to discover their fate. They had expected the opportunity to be ransomed to their women and children, but no such offer was given. Instead, they were told they had no choice but to spend their lives in servitude or die.

“The Breken had originally planned to raid the now mostly undefended home of their enemy and have easy pickings of additional slaves. Beaten, their ships in ruins, and many of their people already dead or dying, the enemy took the only option they could. But nothing could have prepared them for what happened next.

“After chaining what was left of the enemy crew, the Breken systematically killed any man who was too severely wounded to work. Anyone who needed medical attention was thrown from their ships to the sharks, circling eagerly in the water, until the agonized screams of the dying accompanied the sun setting on the red waves as an eerie lament. 

“The next morning, the Breken were astonished to discover some of their shipmates were missing. And while it was possible that one or two, from this ship or that, had met with some ‘accident’ in the night, the numbers missing were too great to be ignored, and all of the prisoners were checked to make sure they were adequately bound.

“The second night, the sky glowed, and eerie lights danced overhead in shades of green, and the water appeared blood red, though they had long since sailed beyond the scene of the battle. The night passed in silence, but come morning, the Breken found their numbers similarly diminished. The prisoners seemed unaffected by the news of the disappearances, responding only with knowing smiles amongst their ranks.

“After five days of strange vanishings, and still a week from home, the Breken forced the enemy captains to tell them what they knew. They said that the bodies of their dead, having not received the blessings of their priests, were doomed to wander the seas for all eternity. Their souls would never find peace, and they were fated to seek out the living of any race, not their own, and punish them, stealing them away to suffer beneath the waves for all time.

“It is said they come aboard ships in the dark of night and slip like shadows amongst their unsuspecting victims. They cover their victims’ mouths with their cold hands in order to block their screams, and pull them overboard, never to be seen again.”

Carly shuddered and leaned into Daniel’s side. “Do you really believe such stories to be true, Darius?”

“Carly! You can’t be serious!” Dearra scolded, and most of the men gathered chuckled at Carly’s agitation. Most, but not all.

Darius said, “Honestly, Carly? I think the Breken were doing what they always do—eliminating rivals. When their enemy provided them with the story of the cursed sailors, it served as a way for more assassinations to take place while casting less suspicion. I think the story has lived all these years because it so easily addressed the disappearance of the occasional Breken from aboard a ship. Not that many pains would be taken to discover the truth, anyway.”

“I suppose, but still, don’t you think—” Carly’s words were cut off by a heavy gust of wind that captured all of their attentions. They had all been so wrapped up in Darius’s story, they had not noticed the storm blow up around them. Even Reo lifted his head as he lay at Darius’s feet, as if he, too, had been caught unawares.

Hugh stood and spoke loudly over the ever increasing gales. “I think everyone not assigned a post had best get below deck. It looks like it’s going to be a rough night.”

“Wonderful!” Dearra moaned. “Just when I was getting used to the possibility of living through this trip.” She turned to her friend and said, “Come on, Carly.”

“I’ll be right there, Dearra. I just want to stay a few more moments. I love the sea, even if she
is
angry.”

Dearra thought it probably had more to do with wanting to shake off her fear after the story Darius had told, but she kept her opinion to herself, and left Carly to regain her composure.

***

Carly walked Reo to the stern of the vessel, in an effort to stay clear of the men as they worked to ready the ship for the oncoming storm. She found the wolf’s presence a little comforting, but she was still on edge.

A heavy drizzle began to fall, further impairing her vision. Her heart was pounding. She could feel the hair at the back of her neck stand on end, and then a dark shadow loomed on the deck before her. Black on black, it was so subtle, she would have almost missed it if it hadn’t moved. It seemed to creep cautiously forward, as if trying to make its way behind her.

Carly tasted fear in her mouth, and her hands went cold. When the shadow moved in a quick, jerking motion, she reacted without thinking, and let fly her dagger into the heart of the blackness. From behind a barrel staggered a terrified form. Carly’s eyes met his for a fraction of a second before he stumbled and fell from the side of the ship into the water below.

“Royce!” Carly screamed, horrified. Reo shot past her and followed the boy into the vicious waves. The shock at seeing Royce on the ship was nothing compared to the dread she felt when he fell off of it.

Carly screamed for help, but the winds swallowed the words the moment they left her mouth, and she could only stumble away from the railing in a desperate attempt to bring help.

At the same moment Royce tripped, Darius was blasted by the image of the boy falling overboard, as seen from Reo’s eyes. He also heard Brin’s shout of panic, as he, too, had witnessed the child’s fall.

Darius flew from his room, nearly colliding with Dearra as she scrambled towards the deck, also in reaction to Brin’s call. Darius steadied her with strong hands that held her firmly by the upper arms, and their eyes briefly met. He pulled away from her quickly, as if he had been burned by the contact, and the two of them headed onto the deck where they found Carly, frantically trying to get someone’s attention.

“Where, Carly?” Darius asked desperately.

Carly could only point a shaking finger in the direction of the stern of the ship, bobbing in the violent storm.

“Dearra! Stay with her. See if you can find William and Daniel.”

Dearra’s heart froze in her chest as she watched Darius stumble in the direction Carly had indicated, fighting to maintain his balance on the heaving ship. She would have preferred to follow, but Darius was right; they needed to find William and Daniel.

Darius hit the water, and his clothing became heavy with water. The added weight, combined with the fury of the storm, threatened to drag him beneath the waves, but he lashed out with strong strokes that pulled him onward. Reo’s call drew him toward where the wolf and Royce struggled to remain afloat against the ocean’s pull. When at last he saw them, Reo was struggling valiantly, his paws clawing at the surface of the water, while Royce clung to the wolf’s neck, his strength almost completely tapped.

“Darius!” Royce yelled, and a look of profound relief spread across the boy’s face.

Reaching the pair only a few strokes later, Darius pried Royce’s cold fingers from Reo’s fur. “You have to let go, Royce. He can’t hold you anymore.”

“S-sorry, Darius. I c-can’t seem to make my hands work right. I’m s-so c-c-cold.”

“It’s okay, Royce. I’ve got you now. Hook your arms around my neck, and hold on tight. Not too tight though—I may be Breken, but I still need to breathe. Okay?”

Royce managed a weak smile, but his chattering teeth prevented him from responding.

Darius worried about Reo’s ability to make it back, but he couldn’t carry them both. All he could do was to send thoughts of encouragement to the exhausted wolf, and hope for the best. The wind, rain, and waves were relentless as they lashed at him, simultaneously. Again, each minute seemed to drag on for an eternity as Darius fought to get them to safety, his muscles burning and screaming in protest with every stroke. The cold was not as intense as it had been the night of his birthday, but it was just as deadly, and it quickly sapped what was left of his strength. Royce was still conscious, as evidenced by his grip on Darius’s neck, but he could feel the boy’s hold weakening.