Voyagers: Last Battles

By Christopher Jon

When Princess Keti had left Othanya, her brother Prince Horus, weak and confined to bed, had been at the mercy of their cruel stepmother Felina, who had seized power as Regent on the death of their father, the King.

Determined to return to Othanya to save her brother and secure his succession to the throne, that is rightfully his, she sailed for Mazuma from New Monydra on the Gargas Lady.

In port at Mazuma they were greeted by their old friend the Senator Simpaticus who told them that, in their absence, the Republic had been re-established. Scarla, the deposed Emperor’s sister, who was trying to raise an army to restore the Empire, had been joined by her cousin, the Governor of Toron. He and his soldiers had already disembarked from the warships which had brought them to Mazuma.

With approval of the Senate, a troop of retired gladiators accompanied Keti and her friends when they set out for Othanya. However news of their mission had been sent to Scarla by a highly placed spy in the city and unbeknown to them the Voyagers’ small expeditionary force would be tracked all the way to Othanya by Scarla, her cousin and his Toron army. The cunning Scarla had persuaded her cousin that they would be able to convince the Regent Felina to ally her forces with theirs, to return to besiege and occupy the city of Mazuma.

And so begins a titanic struggle which will include a daring raid to free the captive Prince Horus, much ferocious fighting, desperate pursuits, diversions, evasions, strange new enemies and allies, war at sea and on land, culminating in a bitter siege and a bloody decisive battle.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Parity Press
• Release date: Oct 2, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301590001

Christopher Jon

I was born in 1938 in Nairn, a small town in the Highlands of Scotland. I was schooled there and went on to qualify as an Architect in Edinburgh in 1962. Rona and I were married that same year and we are still together. We have three children, Mark, Sarah and Peter and eight grand children. For the most part I have enjoyed the practice of architecture and unsurprisingly, given the number of years I have been at it, my CV is embarrassingly extensive. In 1982, the sad end of the business my partner and I had established and run for ten years in the Scottish Highlands prompted my move to Umtata in the Transkei in the Eastern Cape Region of South Africa to manage the branch of a multi-disciplinary firm. Rona and Peter joined me soon after and Peter completed his education in Umtata in what, unusually at that time, was a multi racial school. I had accepted the job on the basis of a two year contract and then became a partner in the firm. In 1987 I resigned and moved to Maseru in Lesotho to run our own business and thereafter moved to Johannesburg in 1990 in time to be part of the exciting changes taking place in South Africa and to vote in the first democratic election in 1994. Since then I have lived and worked in most parts of South Africa and several other Southern African countries as an architect, a development consultant and latterly as a project manager. From 2006 to 2009 we lived and worked on a romantic desert island off the coast of Mozambique, experiencing cyclones and fires. In the late 1990s and the early part of this century work was slow and it was then I began to write seriously. Now, after having moved house more than thirty times, we seem to have settled at last in the outskirts of Durban and I intend to spend all my time pursuing this passion. My first two books, ‘Missed Connections’ and ‘The Botticelli Angel’ feature Andile Moloi, a private detective. I have written three books for youngsters (or children of all ages), ‘Flight to Freedom’, ‘The Drowning Land’ and ‘Last Battles’ and have begun the fourth book in the series.

Book preview

Destination Mazuma

Like a brilliant star, low in the night sky, the lighthouse flashed out its signal of welcome and warning. In the morning the Mazuman coastline would be clearly visible.

Fair winds and an absence of bad weather had made their time at sea pleasantly uneventful. True, for a day or two, she and Shakata had suffered from sea-sickness but when she had gained her sea legs, Keti had found the voyage invigorating.

By early evening the wind had become a light breeze and although the Gargas Lady was still under sail its progress had slowed. No longer crashing its way through the waves, it seemed to glide as its bow slid easily through the smooth swell of the ocean. Only the repetitive slap of water on the hull, the snap of the rigging and the creak of timber planking disturbed the hush. It was a beautiful night, clear and balmy. They had gathered on deck to enjoy the scents of land in the air and to anticipate the pleasure of imminent arrival.

‘Will we reach port tomorrow, Captain Marinus?’ Keti enquired.

‘Weather permitting, Princess.’

Hal smiled wryly, remembering his last voyage to Mazuma, most of which he had spent uncomfortably stowed away in the cargo-filled hold of a trading vessel until, having been discovered, he had been forced to work as a cabin boy. He had survived pirates, storm and shipwreck only to end up in the city of Mazuma’s slave market. It was there that he had first encountered Keti and Shakata. They, too, had been sold into slavery.

‘I’m looking forward to seeing our Mazuman friends again,’ Keti said. ‘I hope that it’s gone well with them since we last saw them.’

‘Me, too,’ Hal added. ‘I expect Simpaticus is emperor by now. What do you think, Shakata?’

The giant black warrior was a man of few words. ‘I think not.’

‘Not his style? You’re probably right,’ Hal responded.

Shakata was not particularly quick-witted, but his assessment of character was seldom wrong.

‘You should get some rest,’ Marinus cautioned. ‘It’ll be a long day tomorrow.’

‘And an exciting one.’ As usual Hal had the final word.

Apart from Chanes who, as first mate, had command of the ship, and Lobus at the helm, the others retired for the night. Shakata had been the first to seek his bed. Ferrus, Assur, Cerebral, Hal, Quetal and Tula, the old monkey, followed soon after. Eventually Marinus took his own advice.

Keti remained on deck, her mind too full of the days to come to contemplate sleep just yet. She remembered the final days of Monydra, where she, Shakata and Hal had become involved in a battle between opposing forces and in a struggle for survival. Their side had been fortunate to escape the island and to meet the ships sent from the new settlements to evacuate them. Their safe arrival at New Monydra had been bitter sweet. So many others had perished when the island of Monydra had been devastated by an earthquake and drowned by a giant wave.

Almost as soon as they had disembarked, Chanes and his young Monydran friends had left to explore this new country. Keti, Shakata and Hal had been content to remain behind. Their sights were set on a return to Othanya, rather than on adventure in a new land. When Chanes and the others returned, with tales of wide rivers, huge lakes full of fish and towering mountains beyond a vast grassy plain, they found that in their absence plans had been made for a voyage to Mazuma.

Aware of Keti’s desire to return to her homeland of Othanya, Toltec had persuaded the new Monydran council to put the Gargas Lady, the best ship in the fleet, at her disposal.

The ship had been rapidly provisioned and equipped. Marinus had offered his services as captain. He wanted to see Mazuma, the country of his parents’ birth. There was no shortage of young Monydran volunteers.

So far Keti had thought only of what she expected the next day to bring – their arrival at Mazuma’s bustling port and reunion with their Mazuman friends. But now she began to consider the problems they would face on the mission to save her brother, if he still lived, and to overthrow their stepmother, who had seized power in Othanya after their father’s death.

She tried in vain to see the coastline she knew was there in the darkness. The beam from the great lighthouse of Mazuma reached out across the surface of the sea. Now it seemed to be warning her rather than welcoming her back. Keti shivered, wrapped her cloak around her and hurried away. She was tired, she decided. Perhaps sleep would banish her irrational fears.

CHAPTER TWO

A Black Eagle on a Field of Red

In the cabin she shared with Quetal and Chanes’ sister, Cloris, Keti wakened to the sound of the wind in the rigging. It had got up again, to blow even more strongly than before.

Quetal’s bunk was empty. She was already on deck. Keti roused Cloris, who had gone to bed early. The slightly built girl rubbed her eyes and sat up. Stretching her arms wide, she yawned and yawned again.

‘Did you have to wake me, Keti? I was in the middle of a wonderful dream. Let me tell you. I was – ’

Keti hastily interrupted. ‘Not just now, Cloris.’ She and Quetal had provided an audience for too many of Cloris’ entertaining but long winded accounts of her highly coloured dreams. These dramatic performances were in contrast to her otherwise straightforward approach to life. ‘Later, tell me later.’ She whisked the covers off the girl’s bed. ‘Now, up with you. We’re certain to make port today.’

On deck all seemed calm and orderly but Keti could sense the contained excitement. The sail had been trimmed to take full advantage of the wind and the Gargas Lady was beating towards Mazuma.

Quetal, with Chanes at the bow, had seen Keti and Cloris come on deck. Together the four made their way to the stern where Hal was with Marinus, who had taken over the watch from his son, Lobus.

‘The rocks, Marinus?’ Hal had not forgotten the dangerous rocks off the coast of Mazuma. The trading ship he had stowed away on had foundered on them.

Marinus had been told about the shipwreck and understood the boy’s concern. ‘They’re well marked, Hal. Look.’ Kneeling, Lobus spread the old cracked chart on the deck and pointed to the hazard.

‘Don’t worry,’ Marinus said, ‘I may not have sailed these waters but in my imagination I’ve navigated them a thousand times.’ He removed a hand from the wheel and tapped his head. ‘It’s all in here, Hal.’

‘Sail ho!’ The cry came from the crow’s nest.

‘Where away?’

‘Ahead to port, Captain.’

‘A trading vessel, Father?’ Lobus enquired.

‘Probably,’ was the reply. ‘We’ll know soon enough.’

‘More ships, Captain,’ the lookout called down from the masthead.

The atmosphere on board had become significantly less relaxed.

‘Take the helm, Lobus. I’m going up to take a look.’

Marinus went up the rigging with the athleticism of a much younger man. He descended slowly, thoughtfully. His expression was serious.

‘Well, Sir, what are they?’ Chanes enquired when Marinus rejoined them.

‘I think they’re warships – galleys.’

‘Mazuman?’ was Hal’s question.

‘They’re too far from us to tell,’ was the answer.

Before long the ships could be seen by everyone on board and the keen eyed reported that the red flag each vessel flew bore the representation of a bird of some kind.

‘A black eagle on a field of red,’ Ferrus decided.

No one on the Gargas Lady had any knowledge of this somewhat threatening emblem.

It began to look as if the approaching ships were bound for the same destination. Were they on a collision course? The Gargas Lady was brought about.

‘Let them pass,’ Marinus said, as they momentarily lost way.

‘Father! Father!’ Lobus’ warning was unnecessary.

Everyone had seen two of the ships detach themselves from the fleet.

Chanes watched with concern as their sails were lowered and banks of oars run out. As the bows of the great ships swung threateningly toward the Gargas Lady, the blades of the oars glistened in the sunshine as they dipped in and out of the water. ‘Do they mean to ram us?’ he enquired.

‘I don’t know,’ Marinus responded. ‘Perhaps to board us; to take us as a prize.’ He swung the wheel to change course.

‘Is there anything we can do, Captain?’ Keti asked.

The boys had joined the crew in an effort to coax every ounce of speed from the Gargas Lady. Cloris, an experienced sailor, was in the rigging. Only Keti and Quetal remained with Tula in the stern.

Marinus considered the situation. It seemed that the galleys steadily closing on them had been ordered to intercept his ship. If they succeeded the wind would be taken out of his sail and the Gargas Lady would be helpless.

‘Set up a sick bay in my cabin.’

‘Captain Marinus.’ Hal had returned to the stern.

‘Yes?’

‘They’re gaining on us – aren’t they?’

Marinus cast a despairing glance at their attackers. Hal was right.

‘Will the rocks we spoke about be marked?’

Marinus was listening intently. ‘Yes, there should be buoys.’

‘Can you take us through them – put the rocks between us and the galleys?’

It was a good suggestion, Marinus decided, better than Hal could suppose. It was shallow near to shore and the galleys drew more water than his vessel. If they attempted to follow him they could easily run aground.

The sail was trimmed as Marinus set a course based on the old chart. The leading galley had closed, in an attempt to intercept them. The extremity of its fearsome ram, projecting from its bow, just above the waterline, scraped along their hull and as they slid away they heard the deep beating of the drum, the creak and splash of the oars.

Before they passed out of range, shouting warriors on the deck of the massive warship, which towered over the Gargas Lady, fired arrows down at them. Some among the crew were hit, luckily none seriously.

The second galley, some distance behind, was able to change direction. The first, propelled by its momentum, continued on its original course.

‘Look there, Captain.’ Hal was pointing to starboard where a buoy was clearly visible. When Hal had been shipwrecked, the buoys, which marked the dangerous rocks, had been obscured by fog.

‘I see it,’ Marinus replied, ‘and listen – can you hear it – the bell rock.’

Faintly, at first, then more loudly, Hal heard the clanging of the solitary mournful bell before he saw it mounted on a thin column of jagged rock, jutting out from above the spume of the waves dashing against it.

Marinus was no longer nervous. His memory had not played him false. The course he had taken was true. He had found the narrow passage between buoy and bell in the nick of time. The giant ship in pursuit was rapidly reducing the distance between them, as the slaves at the oars were whipped into greater effort. The galley was only a stone’s throw from them and Hal flinched as a volley of arrows whizzed past like a swarm of angry bees. The drumbeat of the slave master was loud and insistent. The war cries of the warriors were bloodcurdling. The great bow loomed high above them and the battering ram seemed to reach out for them.

‘Cccrrrkkk. Cccrrrkkk.’ All down one side of the galley the oars splintered and smashed like kindling, as they caught against the reefs below the surface of the sea.

Hal shouted in triumph and slapped Marinus on the back. ‘We’ve done it! You’ve done it, Captain! They’ve hit the rocks!’

The pursuing ship was brought to a halt before being moved with difficulty back to the safety of the open sea.

Hal could only imagine the chaos on the stricken galley where so many of those at the oars must have suffered injury.

They were through. The