A Long, Long Life: SoulNecklace Stories, #4

By R. L. Stedman

"Reggie groaned; his head, saints, how it hurt! Putting his hand to his hair he felt stickiness. There was blood on his fingers.

Reggie sat down suddenly on the deck, back against the ship's prow, fighting the pain. Why was he here, all alone?"

Gregor, bored with working for his father, dreams of another life. Little does Gregor know that when he rescues Reg, an orphaned castaway, he will set in motion events that will shape his homeland forever.

This exciting novella is set in the world of the SoulNecklace Stories. Suitable ages 13+

170 pages (approx)

• Language: English
• Publisher: RL Stedman
• Release date: Dec 10, 2017
• ISBN: 9780473422981

Book preview

Chapter One

Orphaned

It was the calls of the seabirds that woke him. Reggie groaned; his head, saints how it hurt! When Jess whined and licked him he opened his eyes: not now, girl, not now. He staggered to the edge of the boat just in time to vomit over the side. There was only yellow bile in his stomach, and he watched it float away on the foam, drifting toward the horizon.

Far to the south lay the great Snow Hill, barely visible against the haze. It was far away and – he squinted – getting smaller. Putting his hand to his hair he felt stickiness. There was blood on his fingers. He sat down suddenly on the deck, back against the ship’s prow, fighting the pain, the nausea. Why was he here, all alone?

When he turned thirteen Reggie would become Da’s apprentice. But now, being still twelve, today’s excursion was a weekend pleasure jaunt; a chance to get some fish and introduce Jess, their new dog, to their boat, the Sea Bird. Jess, a skinny collie with a shaggy coat and great brown eyes, had been a farm dog. But she was getting too old for the outdoors and had grown too slow for the sheep.

She’s got a kind heart, said Mistress Sattherwaite. Can’t bear to see her put down, all for getting old. Why, we all get old, don’t we? She’d be great company for your lad.

Da had taken Jess, a bundle of quivering black and white fur, home to Reggie.

She’s yours now, boy, he said. Got to look after her.

---

That Saturday morning they’d set sail just as the sun came over the horizon. Ma on the sails, Da on the tiller. Settled weather, calm sea, just right for fishing. Although Jess hadn’t seemed to enjoy it; she’d whined and ran about, claws click-clacking on the deck. Once, she’d put her forefeet on the rail, as if to look over the side of the boat. When she got a mouthful of wave they all laughed.

Make for the Hill, Da said, motioning Reggie to take the tiller oar.

He showed Reggie how to lean into it, using the tug and thrust of the sea to keep the course steady, aiming always for the white-topped Snow Hill.

What do you do if there’s no mountain? Reggie asked.

What do you mean, no mountain?

I mean, like clouds and such are in the way.

Ah, Da chuckled. You ready to learn the secrets of the trade, boy?

When Reggie nodded, Da began talking about navigation. Use your other senses: taste, sound, smell. Then there’s ripples, patterns on the waves. Wake direction. And of course, at night, there’s the stars.

Reggie listened, but didn’t take much in because one eye was fixed on Jess, who was dashing from one side of the boat, tongue hanging out, to the other. If a dog could smile, she would be smiling.

Think she’s getting her sea legs, Da said.

They reached the fishing grounds mid-morning. Ma showed Reggie how to furl the sail and put down the sea anchor gently, without scaring away the fish. Expertly, Da threw the net over the side. It looked like black lace against the sky.

What’s that? Reggie pointed at a dot on the eastern horizon.

Another boat, Da said.

Strange, Ma said.

Why? Reggie asked

Ma and Da exchanged adult glances above Reggie’s head.

It’s naught, Ma said soothingly, in the kind of voice that suggested it was anything but.

Reggie, Da said calmly. Ma and me want to show you how to tack. You know what tacking is?

Turning into the wind?

Exactly.

Why? Reggie said. We haven’t got any fish yet.

Ma glanced again at the horizon. Fish can wait. The dot was bigger now, and obviously a ship.

You sure? Da asked her.

I have a feeling, Ma murmured, and started unknotting the sail ropes.

Back to the land, Da said.

But – Reggie said. There seemed no point in going out to sea unless you caught something.

But Da shook his head at him. Not now, so Reggie bit his tongue. Jess seemed to catch the changing atmosphere, because she stopped her pacing, and sat back on her haunches, panting.

They turned slowly, tacking into the wind, Da’s hand steady on the tiller, and Ma holding the sail lines, watching the pennant flag flutter in the westering breeze. Neither of them said much, even though they were supposed to be teaching Reggie, and Ma’s face was tense.

Slowly, the other ship grew larger. It had a tall mast with a wide white sail, and oarsmen. It was moving faster than they were.

There have been stories, Da said, but stopped when Ma shook her head at him.

Reggie knew what they meant. Last year three fishing sloops had disappeared.

But that was Camaar, Da muttered. Camaar was on the other side of the Kingdom, near on two days ride from their house. His eyes were worried. Would never have brought you out, if we’d thought there was any danger.

We’ll be fine, Da, said Reg bravely.

Da patted his head, and smiled at him as the wind grew stronger, and caught the sail. Ma let the lines loosen, and the canvas took up the slack, until the small boat felt like it was flying across the sea. Jess sat up straight, tongue out, panting in excitement. Reggie stood in the prow to feel the wind through his hair. Beside them a seabird cried, scudding across the waves, disappearing then reappearing.

But although they were fast, the strange ship was faster. It sped across the sea, all the time gaining, growing larger and larger, until they could see every oar and shield boss on its side.

Not from here, Ma said.

Da nodded. Foreign.

Shouldn’t be a foreign ship in these waters.

Aye, thought the Guardian wouldn’t let them in.

By now Reggie was feeling nervous. What’ll happen if they catch us?

All his life, Reggie never forgot the awful fear of that moment.

But Ma nodded, as if in answer to a question, and bent her head. Reggie could hear her muttering under her breath, as though she was praying. Slowly across the sea, he could see a faint line of mist, growing on the water. At first it was almost invisible, mingling with the sea spray.

What’s that?

Hush, Da said sternly.

Jess crept close to Reggie’s legs, her tail brushing his calves. Kneeling, he patted her, trying to soothe himself. It’s all right girl. It’s all right.

Ma’s desperate whispering grew louder. Reggie knew that Ma’s family had the Blood. Blood calls to Land, the saying went, but there seemed precious little land here, only sea and the cliffs of the Kingdom, far away to the south-east. Reggie fixed his eyes on them and prayed they would grow closer.

As the black ship drew nearer, Reggie could see sailors on its decks, clustered along the sides, staring at his family as a cat stares at a mouse. Across the sea, the fog grew thicker, misty tendrils rising from the water, snaking across the ocean like a blanket. The day became silent, every noise an intrusion as the fog grew still thicker, and then the sails turned flat and empty as the wind fell. Even the ocean seemed to calm.

A howl from the other ship. As if in answer, a bird called loudly and a black shape circled their mast. Jess, lifting her muzzle, howled in reply.

There was a look of wonder on Da’s face. The Guardian! She heard you!

Ma nodded, panting. Her face was red and wet with sweat, like she’d been working hard. Da laughed and grabbed her in a rough hug. But just then, something whistled from the fog and landed with a thud on the deck. It was a rope with an anchor-shaped iron attached. Its ends were pointed, and cruelly sharp.

Da! Reggie shouted. A grappling iron!

Dad picked it up, threw it hard out to sea, where it splashed and sank. But another came and another, like a rain of iron. Then one struck Da on the head and he fell. Reggie crouched in the side of the boat, arms around Jess. He should help Da, he should move, but he was too scared. He buried his face in Jess’s fur and wished he was somewhere else.

Ma screamed into the sky. Help!

But her voice disappeared into the fog.

Two grappling irons slithered across the deck. Their wickedly sharp points snagged into the wood and tangled in the sail ropes. Reggie picked one up, threw it out of the boat, but the other was lodged deep in the body of the ship and he couldn’t tug it loose. The Sea Bird began moving sideways in an unnatural motion.

On the deck, Da lay unmoving. Ma shook his shoulder. Davey! Davey!

Above, from the mast, a bird cried. Then: clunk! The Sea Bird banged into the side of the black ship.

Finally, Reggie tugged the iron free, flung it into the sea. Grabbed another, holding it like a weapon, as there came a shout from above. A rope ladder dropped onto the deck. Reggie stared at it, at Da.

Da moaned. Run, boy!

Ma pulled her fish knife from her belt.

The fog cleared and for a moment Reggie saw letters on the black boat’s stern: Dieu et Ma Main Droit.

He was still trying to work this out what that meant something hit him hard on the head and he fell. Jess growled, low. A man swore. The dog gave a sudden sharp whine. A splash of something heavy hitting the water. Reggie staggered to his feet. Out on the water, a black shape trod water frantically. Jess!

Strange sailors stood on the deck of the Sea Bird. Black-eyed and long-haired, they held long gleaming knives. Ma screamed as, in a sudden rush, dark-colored birds flew at the sailors, a cloud of black feathers. Some men shouted, but others held their knives ready. Then something stuck Reggie hard on the back of his head and he knew nothing more.

Reggie groaned, put a hand to his head. How many hours had he lain here? Across the deck lay scattered dark clusters of feathers and ugly bloodstains. It looked as though there had been a vicious battle, and two heavy bodies had fallen.

Reggie wanted to scrub at the stains; to wash them from the deck, but the pirates or raiders or whatever they were had taken everything. Bucket, net, ropes and tiller oar. Even the sails had been removed, as though they were valuable, as though they were made of gold. Only a torn scrap of sailcloth, caught between deck planks, remained.

Arms around the dog, Reggie sat in the shade of the side of the boat. Later, he pressed his face into her coarse coat and cried. Jess didn’t seem to mind. And when he finished she whined gently and licked his face, as though she understood his sadness. How long they drifted, he didn’t know. Day passed slowly, a blur of pain and bright light and nausea, until finally the stars came out.

Chapter Two

Gregor

Sometimes Gregor hated his job.

Da was a blacksmith, so often farmers brought him horses to shoe. Long ago, Da had realized that if he returned the horse to the farmer he might charge considerably more than if the owner retrieved the animal himself. But Da never physically took the animals to their owners – oh no. That task fell to Gregor. Who, being Da’s apprentice, had to do whatever his master bade him. That was the law of the apprentices, and Da was a great believer in the law, especially if it suited him.

It wasn’t all bad. In summer, Gregor enjoyed getting away from his father’s heavy hand; escaping work when the weather was fine was a pleasure. But now it was winter. In winter, the dark fell early and the wind cut, knife-like, through his leather jerkin. Wasn’t so bad on horseback; it was the return journey, on foot, that was the real ordeal.

Ma gave him a bag of food and a water bladder and a spare jersey for when the weather was foul, and that helped, but it slowed him down somewhat. But today, for a change, the sun was out and the weather felt almost spring-like. The scent of crushed grass, mingling with the briny sea-breeze, was fresh and invigorating.

Normally, Gregor would have enjoyed riding along the cliff-top. Views clear