Where The Black and Grey Wolves Kiss, Book Two: The Sabienn Feel Adventures

By Mark Barkley

In his quest to seek the mysterious missing stone, the occult item sought to ensure victory in war, Sabienn Feel journeys with his three companions to the island of Cajj Cajj.
The island is to be invaded as a result of an event that has yet to occur and is currently being held by the Turrs, a people Sabienn has always been at variance with.
In his endeavours, he needs to work closely with these people for his mission to succeed. He knows he dislikes the Turrs. But is he capable of falling in love with one?

Where The Black and Grey Wolves Kiss is the second of twelve books in the Sabienn Feel Adventures.

Interview with the Author

Q - What inspired you to write The Sabienn Feel Adventures?

A – I’ve always loved the idea of the epic journey. I’m acquainted with the book Journey to the West but was more familiar with the TV series in the 80’s based on the book called Monkey. The idea of four souls travelling across a wide expanse of geography to complete a quest appealed to me. So I planned a series of twelve books to go from one place in the south of this space colony that they live on twice removed from Earth, to end up in the north, meeting danger at every turn.
Q – Why does your main character Sabienn Feel grow wings?

A - Good question. I wanted something very drastic to occur to these people physically. Something that would be difficult to hide and offer an immediate prejudice. The idea of growing wings constantly came up for me. There’s a Pearl Jam song I found inspiring that says, “And sometimes is seen a strange spot in the sky. A human being that was given to fly”. And in my mind’s eye, I could see this figure. Almost like the Led Zeppelin Icarus logo but with bat wings. But they couldn’t fly otherwise they’d hit the sky and the journey would be over in no time. I made them only able to swim because being submerged in water has elements of dealing with the subconscious. To me it satisfies all elements of those prophecy, fantasy, epic adventure type of stories that involve friendship and brotherhood.

Q - So, why should readers give these books a try?

A – Well I would say they were humour-filled, page-turning, epic, fantasy adventure novels which involve a quest. But then that’s what you would expect me to say. Why not try and read one of the books and let me know what you think? Some of the books are free so you’ve got nothing to lose.
Sorry if that sounded a little flippant. I’m immensely grateful that anyone is reading my books. And hopefully I can make them the best stories possible for my magnificent readers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mark Barkley
• Release date: Dec 31, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370760145

Book preview

Where The Black and Grey Wolves Kiss

Book Two: The Sabienn Feel Adventures

By

Mark Barkley

©2017

Ebook Cover Design: SelfPubBookCovers.com/Shardel

Formatting: Polgarus Studio

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior permission of the copyright owner.

See more at https://markbarkley.net

Table of Contents

1. The Flagpoles at Dawn

2. The Helmsman of The Card and the Dog

3. Welcome to Cajj Cajj

4. Curtains

5. Diseased, Dogs and Short Ears

6. Dierk’s Best Birthday

7. The Peak of All Pastries

8. Let Peace Be Our Way

9. The Real Fake Monk

10. The Meeting Place

11. Plastic Bags

12. The Kiss Goodbye

13. Sky Shiners

14. The Luck of the Iron Shark

15. The Bad Butcher’s Meat

16. The Colonel’s Tight Muscle

17. Not Dogs

18. The Table With Three Legs

19. Women’s Day

20. The Inner Sanctum

21. Fire and Ice

22. Flaky Embers

23. Port Shale

1. The Flagpoles at Dawn

What do you think about the bowel movements of the black pelican? said Stork to Sabienn.

What? With the tether ropes in his hand, Sabienn stood on the bow of the boat, watching the dock as they prepared to push their way out into the Knife Reef Sea. He wiped his face on his cloak not realizing it had been augmented by a sizeable bird shit.

There was a feeling of disgust with the substance now clinging to his lips and teeth. He watched his friend Stork, sitting on the lid of the boat’s hold, viewing him blankly. Come on, thought Sabienn. Give me the put-down.

But Stork was surprisingly compassionate in his response without any hint of sarcasm. Don’t be a baby. Just eat it, Stork said. It’s not that bad.

Sabienn’s tongue ventured out to touch the bird’s off-load and found it a little nutty and a little fruity. It wasn’t something he would savour regularly but some went down his throat. Hello. That really isn’t that bad, thought Sabienn. I’ve probably just taken on a bacterial load to give me a vomiting death. But bird shit’s got just as much right to end my life as anything else.

Wait! called Bray. Look. Sabienn’s friend Bray’s laser-like eyes were scanning the Port Tyla docks and picked up a particular brown-robed and hooded figure moving toward them among the hopeless and ragged people lined for the boats. It’s..

I know, Sabienn cut in. No names aloud. The sight of his friend Grey Cape stunned Sabienn. This must be important, thought Sabienn. He’s exposing himself. The eyes are everywhere.

Grey Cape quickly sort Sabienn’s attention and beckoned him to come forward. Bray took the ropes as Sabienn jumped back to the worn boards of the dock. Swiftly Grey Cape held out a hand and passed a slip of paper across to Sabienn. More information, said Grey Cape. Good luck. As quickly as he’d arrived he was off back where he had come from. Sabienn dutifully concealed the paper within his cloak and jumped back to his boat.

I think he’s safe, said Bray to Sabienn, watching the retreating figure of Grey Cape. I haven’t seen any Secret Police for an hour. They must have pulled back.

The ropes were tossed and they were off, gliding past the docks. To the side, Sabienn looked out at the ragged masses lining up for their allotted boats. He could see the pointed ears of the Turr men doing deals on the boards, seeking passage for their wives and children. Desperate hands were passing money and passports across to dark-cloaked boatmen in uncaring commerce.

The air was rank with all smells of the sea and dead fish and sweat-stained discards of the worried on edge. In the distance Sabienn heard the shouts. No clothes, no baggage, no toys allowed. There was no sorry.

Sabienn felt some fruit that he’d stowed in his cloak pocket and walked the deck closer to his friend Bray who was solemnly watching the parade of Turr people. Look at that, said Bray. Their humanity’s a commodity. As compliant as fruit and vegetables. With much less the value.

Thanks, said Sabienn. You almost make me feel bad to ask. He retrieved two apples from his cloak and offered fruit to Bray. Like an apple? Bray took the fruit and bit into it keeping his gaze on the activity on the docks.

Seemingly affected by the drama on the docks, Bray commented, Goodbye Hayddland. He then pointed and looked to the north. Next stop, Cajj Cajj. For these people, it promises the unknown. It promises the rumour of safe haven. For your children, a rumour is a solid rope to grasp on to.

Sabienn viewed the teaming masses receding behind them with detached interest. Keep on point, Bray, he said. I’m not here to protect them. I’m not here to speak up for them. I have my own problems. Remember that. He reached into his cloak pocket to retrieve the note freshly retrieved from Grey Cape. He made a quick perusal of its contents and noted the paper was the same edible paper as a Supreme Order. Sabienn handed the note to Bray, Gather the boys.

They moved to the hold where Stork sat and their tall friend Deep, who had been tending ropes at the stern, came to join them.

What’s news? said Stork.

Bray took a seat next to Stork opened the paper and read the words of Grey Cape, Further notes. A warning. The Secret Police have been alerted. They’re in the shadows on Cajj Cajj. Your father wants you killed. Be aware. Your quest is to seek a photo of Roal Surss. This man used to be a guard at Mission Cinnamon holding cells at the time of your birth. He was in charge of the women whose ears you carry. Bray stopped briefly and they turned to Deep who patted the precious bag that he had stitched within his cloak. It contained the ear remnants of seven women they were committed to returning to the graves at Mission Cinnamon which may or may not belong to the mothers of three of them.

Bray continued from the page, The photo is a group shot with other workers at Mission Cinnamon and is the only known object that this man has touched of his time there. Surss works at Central Library Korback. He translates native text. You will need a silver pass to access his sanctum. I have two contacts in Port Cord. One is called Peer Jepp. The other is clearly crazy but may appear. Gain the silver pass from Jepp. Get a read on the photo and get out. The invasion will occur within two weeks as a result of an incident that has yet to occur. Go to Port Shale. My dog will find you. You then leave for Turrland. Bray looked the paper over for any tell-tale irregularities that only he could spot but there were none. That’s it.

That’s it? enquired Stork. A good luck and die well would have been nice. Seems like a lot of gaps.

Gaps? argued Bray. What else do you want? The Grand Inquisitor Profound Murrlock Hyde, the second most powerful man in Hayddland, the man whose blood runs through the veins of the four of us, wants to kill us? Seems straight forward.

Don’t focus on the good bits, Steel, said Stork to Bray. Try and get in the holiday spirit.

So the first stop is the depot? said Bray tapping the maps in his pocket.

Only as a rallying point, said Sabienn. We may need a rest.

After a few more read throughs so the details were solid for all of them, Sabienn took it upon himself to tear up the note and eat it as a side dish with his apple. His dining was interrupted by a gruff Jossack, their captain, moving up the freshly-painted boards of his boat.

Sharpen up, Jossack observed of his four passengers, You look like tourists? At least try to be fishermen. In response to the call, the four men donned their black beanies given to them. And look lively. With this he shoved a scrubbing broom into Sabienn’s hands who duly swung it into action and started brushing the deck.

Pointless, thought Sabienn. The more sea-spray you brush, the more it returns. We should have been in the water last night but for the storm. So much precious time lost under the cover of night. He looked toward the sky of pink and crimson housing the reliable presence of the green and the blue moon and paused for a breath. It brought a renewed hope in him for the mission he and his three friends were to undertake.

Sabienn saw his friends take cloths in hand and start wiping down rails and hatches and panes of glass. They worked with diligence and intent but he could see they all felt their efforts were totally useless. But at least they looked the part.

Jossack turned to his four passengers and glared. Winged men, he said. I’ll speak my mind. Why the loved one would want to be with you beggars belief. He reached into his pocket to remove his Blue Moon Bible and brandished it as if to shield him from evil. There are no winged men here. Nowhere in sacred text. You should be banished to the pit of darkness.

Stork offered blandly, Thank you. We feel better now. But don’t hold back what you really think.

Ptth! Jossack spat. Smart-arse. Break out your rifles and look sharp. There’ll be trouble on the waters. Time to earn your keep. With that he moved away to take control of his vessel.

Viewing from the bow, Sabienn saw their boat along with other smaller craft were hugging the coastline, leaving the troubled specks of life on the dock far behind. It rounded a headland and the ornate dome of the Deerland War Memorial appeared, shining in the morning light. It had five flagpoles consisting of four smaller ones and one huge one in the centre and they already had their colours flying. He looked to the simple flag of Deerland with its red background and its central orange sun flapping in the breeze. The flagpoles ringed a flame of remembrance and the war graves of the Deerland fallen. They were men and women who had fought alongside the Hayddland troops during the Bol War thirty years ago.

For the Deerland people it was sacred ground and visits to the site had become a pilgrimage for its countrymen. It was a dominating and beautiful sight and Sabienn looked on in awe. He noted Deep, who in his quiet way seemed to value traditions the most of the four, looking toward the dome and assuming his tall and well-proportioned frame into a stance of respectful attention. Watching him, Bray and Stork followed suit. The three of them looked toward the big dome not in rigid remembrance but in calm ponderance.

Hey Bray, called Sabienn. What’s the radius again?

Five kilometres, Bray replied. With the dome at the centre. It’s an umbrella of Deerland sovereign territory here in Hayddland. Why aren’t we moving to the sea?

Tactics, said Sabienn. These waters are officially Deerland. The army and Secret Police generally hold back. Hey Deep, who’d win a fight between Hayddland and Deerland?

Deerland, said Deep. No contest.

We’d be out-gunned and out-manned, chipped in Bray.

That’s why we’re safe here, said Sabienn. We’re about to go to war with Turrland. The Great Leader, bless his dark little heart, needs to keep the big country on side. His reference to the supreme leader of Hayddland who tried to have the four of them killed caused a stir in the group.

Deerland couldn’t give a shit who it’s with. As long as it looks fashionable, called Stork. Can you imagine TGL bringing in all the Deerland ambassadors just to tickle their bellies? I’d love to be a fly on that wall. Just to throw up.

As if by signal, once the boat aligned itself with the dome on the shore, it swung around to veer north pointing into the treacherous expanse of the Knife Reef Sea. Sabienn knew the expanse of water was cursed with variant depth and deceptive shallows. Below its peaceful blue flesh lying in wait for the unprepared were sharp sturdy outcrops of coral ready to slice a hull to hell. He’d seen a knife move easily through the belly of a pig and had been told it was much similar.

Under the sudden glare of Jossack who had poked his head out of his cabin, Sabienn directed his friends. Rifles were handed round, removed from their water-proof wrapping and he lay in wait looking out to the water. He handed binoculars to Bray who had the best eyes. They were well past the reach of the Deerland safe zone and rocky outcrops appeared above the surface, lapped by the ceaseless waves.

A small taxi craft with a thin hull came into view, broken and disintegrating on an outcrop like a sad insect with a gash through its guts. The craft, not built for sea travel must have tried to make the crossing at night during the storm. Sabienn could still see that little boiling of the sea around it to show the ravenous red-eyed shardee mopping up the last morsels of meat as only that evil fish did.

There! shouted Bray. He put down his binoculars that he’d been peering through and pointed out to an island rock.

His friends couldn’t see anything but knew enough to put their lives in the hands of Bray’s eyes. The binoculars were passed to Sabienn who viewed the direction pointed.

There was nothing obvious. Then a head bobbed above a rock. It was a momentary lack of discipline characteristic of the stray youth these pirates preferred to press gang. Full credit to Bray for picking up that spot.

Quickly Sabienn tapped on the glass of the wheelhouse to alert Jossack who brought the vessel into a swift tack away from the impending threat. They steered towards a craggy death rock in the water before a heavy wheel brought them further round to a clearer path.

We’ve got company, said Deep and lifted his rifle in readiness. From behind the rock they’d just been viewing with battery outboards running silent, two small open vessels appeared and skimmed across the surface at speed towards them.

As far as Sabienn could see, each contained four men. They were agitated and excited and one in youthful zeal held a rifle above his head. There seemed to be no pretence of any element of surprise. Over a distance of less than a kilometre he could hear their blood-curdling yells.

With the binoculars to his eyes, Sabienn viewed the oncoming boats. What? These guys are clowns not warriors, he thought. The occupants were making no attempt whatsoever at firing their weapons even though they were now within range. Their threat seemed more theatrical than actual.

Bustling out of the wheelhouse, Jossack pointed to the oncoming intruders. There, he pointed to them. "Filthy, filthy Turrs. That’s the ones I was talking to you about. They’ve been on this deck twice. Cleaned me out of money and rations. Sabienn looked at the boats again. Well what’re you waiting for? added Jossack. Kill them. Put a hundred bullets into them. Let them sink to the bottom."

Looking to his friends, Sabienn wasn’t the only one stunned. Not all Turrs are filthy, said Bray.

Have you ever met a Turr from Cajj Cajj? Jossack spat on the deck and awaited a response. I didn’t think so. Kill them!

Looking towards Deep, Sabienn nodded with an understanding. They both wore the black wolf tattoo on their chest to mark their marksmanship with the weapon. This is not good, thought Sabienn. I’ve never fired with a deck heaving underneath me. While he was remonstrating with his ability, Deep had already dropped and steadied and fired a round away at the oncoming fleet.

The bullet hit and smashed into the shoulder of the man on the outboard of the lead craft. A scream was heard as a hand came up to favour the busted arm. His craft took an immediate limp and aimless right-angle and slowed to a crawl. There was an instant change to the pirates’ atmosphere.

Man, look at that, piped Stork. You can just feel the water go brown. Those guys have shit themselves.

That’s a hell shot, man, said Sabienn to Deep. That’s given them something to think about.

Kill them! shouted Jossack again.

The four of them looked at the old man with his fists gripped. Sabienn could see from what Jossack was expecting that the four of them were here for more than just protection.

We’re not killing anyone, said Sabienn. I’ve been played my whole life by people like you. I’m not getting fooled again.

Sabienn pulled his weapon up to his eye and took aim at the helmsman of the other craft. It was maybe with a little too much hurry that he lined him up. I’m not going to be outdone by Deep, he thought. I’m a black wolf too. I can get my quota on a rifle range. The trigger was pulled just as something moved in front of the sights. His bullet hit a youth in the throat and the unintended target began to spurt blood but mercifully rolled over the edge of his craft and disappeared into the sea.

I’m glad you could see it my way, said Jossack feeling vindicated.

Feeling irked, Sabienn lowered his weapon and looked inward. Piss-weak. That’s exactly what I didn’t want. Next time get into the zone. He looked back at Deep and felt a pang of shame because his brother wasn’t laughing or revelling in his carelessness. Deep was looking back with a sad understanding. It just annoyed him that he gave this idiot Jossack so much pleasure.

Kill the rest now, said the old fisherman. Come on. Shoot them. Sabienn’s actions ensured that the decision was made for them.

A bullet smashed through the glass of the wheelhouse making them all drop to the deck in cover. Out on the water far from being mollified, the intruders were rallying with curdling shrieks. Sabienn could see that it must have been a favoured brother or son he sent to the bottom of the water because their reaction was like a rock hitting a hive of Deerland death wasps.

The other boys found stable crouches and lifted their weapons as the boats made a full-on assault towards them, pushing their small open craft to speed.

It was with a solemn recognition that Sabienn viewed them as brave in their craziness and stupidity. There was no cover for them and the next shot that came from them had an unsteady launch which went over the wheelhouse.

The three boys opened up on them. Bray and Stork offered adequate cover but it was Deep who systematically pulled them down one by one in quick succession. It was all over in seconds and Sabienn endured another pang of guilt in that he caused the event but didn’t contribute.

Bring it round! shouted Jossack to one of his deckhands. With a hard wheel the boat was brought to bear down on the still craft floating where they’d been shot up.

What’s happening? said Sabienn.

You want to be paid? There was no emotion in Jossack’s comeback.

Paid? Sabienn could see the dead youth now. Forget it.

The loved one said I was to pay you for your services. So I’m paying you, added Jossack without feeling. Sabienn knew this wasn’t what Grey Cape would have had in mind.

They drew alongside one of the craft and a deckhand pulled the closest one in with a pole. Two men lay prone within and they saw three in the other boat. Two others must have rolled into the sea to follow the fate of Sabienn’s youth. The waters were boiling now with the arrival of meat-hungry shardee pulling apart the carcasses in the water. Sabienn could see the fish were happy, fat and well-fed that plied these waters.

Sir, Jossack addressed Stork. If you could do the honours please?

Stork hesitated then took to the rope ladder leading down the side. Why choose Stork? Because he knows I wouldn’t go, thought Sabienn. But if Stork goes, I have to go. This Jossack’s a prick. I’ll help, said Sabienn, following his friend down the rope into the closest boat.

Sabienn and Stork checked the pockets of each of the pirates laying there but they were clean of any identifying papers. They had no wallets, no receipts or any history. There was no baggage and apart from jackets on the rear boards, there appeared to be no further personal property. There was just an unusual marking. Each of the men had an eight-point black star tattoo like a compass on the back of their right wrist.

With the help of Stork, Sabienn grabbed one of the men and picked him up. He held the lifeless head and once again felt the pointed Turr ears and was surprised at how soft the skin was, even on someone given to bad deeds.

They rolled both men into the water much to the joy of the fish. The boat did contain a lone rifle with a box of ammunition which was passed up to Jossack.

The second boat was boarded after being pulled in closer and it was a little more rewarding. Once again each of the three occupants had their pockets clean and as before each sported this strange black star tattoo on their right wrists.

There was another rifle and ammunition which was passed up and in the rear hidden from view they found an old cloth bag. Upon closer inspection it must have contained at least a thousand bol, the Turrland currency, each note messed, dirty and stained with a history.

Sabienn held up a note to the morning sun. It was the first time he’d touched Turr money and it was quite ordinary. Just green and white with one of the ubiquitous faces of the ruling Bol family.

There were trinkets and cheap jewellery and piles of passports for no-one around. Sabienn flipped open one and saw a Turr woman with a head like a full moon who may have thought she had the right to safe passage.

Lose the papers, shouted Jossack from the boat. Just bring the valuables. The passport was flipped into the sea along with everything but the cash and cheap baubles.

Come on. Hurry! Jossack called to the boys to get back aboard. He then called to a hand, Jebbo, lash the boats to the aft. We can flog them off in port. Sabienn and Stork scrambled back amongst the living as their transport was roped and secured.

I make another half hour. Jossack spoke to the boys as he kicked some glass at his foot. We’ll be at the outer boundary of the fishing ground.

Can’t you take us to Cajj Cajj? said Sabienn. I don’t feel like swimming.

Yeah, chimed Stork. Look in your Bible and find your heart.

Too dangerous, said Jossack. It was what was agreed.

After lashing the small craft, Jebbo passed them smiling and cheerful. He seemed to be more ready to party than Jossack. Thanks for your help with that scum, Jebbo said to the boys and he winked to Jossack, It was worth the special trip. Hey, Boss?

Hold your tongue and get to work, his boss snapped. Jebbo just pushed along in his own casual way.

The four friends looked at each other. It was that sick feeling of being manipulated that made Sabienn gulp.

They’d reached the open area of the fishing grounds and the seas were jumping with the shimmering white flesh of the eastern black fish. Jossack’s men looked on howling and salivating. They were anxious to drop a net and scoop up this precious seething harvest.

Jossack turned casually to Sabienn, If I wasn’t bound by orders from the loved one, I’d just toss you over board now. And get on with what we do best. Hey, boys, Jossack shouted to his deckhands. Five minutes. Lose the cargo first and we’ll get amongst it. The day was just getting better and better for Jossack.

Sabienn and his friends took this as a wake-up call and prepared themselves for their twenty kilometre swim to Cajj Cajj. They began to wrap their weapons and waterproof their gear in readiness for the open sea. Through their cloaks they flexed their wings on their back extending them and pulling them in to loosen up the muscles for the massive slog in the water.

D-Boat! A sharp call came from the look-out.

Shit! Jossack spat.

They all rushed to the bow of the craft to see the patrol boat in the distance bearing down on them quickly. Sabienn had read about them. It was a Turr border patrol vessel commonly referred to as the D-Boat. D was for Detention but it also was for the searchlight signal it was sending across the sea to them. As a convenience, the planet had adopted the dots and dashes code that was brought across the universe by the humans so the lights read dash-dot-dot, dash-dot-dot in quick succession. D, D, D.

That’s lucky, said Bray. I thought it was trouble.

Jossack looked back sternly on the uninvited comment. I’d prefer the pirates. He turned to his deck-hands. Stow the valuables. Quick. Move. He then turned to Sabienn, If you don’t want to lose everything, follow Jebbo.

The group became tense and worked feverishly and with quiet purpose. The hatch which covered the hold was removed and placed on the deck. From it a panel was peeled back to reveal the hollow within. Deck-hands were coming forth with rifles, ammunition and weirdly wrapped packets of cash. This Jossack doesn’t deal completely in fish, thought Sabienn.

Into the hollow was also stuffed the boys’ weapons and the bag they’d just retrieved from the dead men in the sea. Quickly they replaced the cover and cleaned the deck area in preparation for the officials’ arrival.

As the patrol boat pulled alongside, the Turr captain was casually looking over the side at them all. His men stood by him with fully armed clips in their rifles. They were greeted with typical Jossack diplomacy. What do you jerks want?

You’re in our fishing field, responded the Turr captain blankly.

Yours? No no, Jossack looked at his crew then turned back. We’re good. Check your map.

I have, the captain was unfazed. It’s ours.

Since when? said Jossack.

Since I said so, added the captain. With that remark, three of the captain’s entourage leapt on to the deck. One of the men carried a large can Sabienn could see was marked as highly flammable vegetable oil. Do you have your form? asked the captain blankly.

Not this again? Jossack was exasperated as he could sense what was coming next. This form, what’s the colour?

Your Form 500, said the captain.

Stubbing his toe into his deck with annoyance, Jossack spat again, Shit! What happened to 200?

Sounds like you know how this goes, said the captain with detached interest.

I don’t have 500, said Jossack. I don’t have 200.

With a hand gesture from the Turr captain, the officer with the can removed the cap and started spreading a splash of liquid on the deck.

OK, OK. Stop, stop, Jossack held up both hands. Let’s talk please.

Before he had a chance to remonstrate further, another officer on deck produced a small axe and went straight to the hatch cover. He tapped it with his knuckles a few times then laid into the top panel with his axe, splitting the timber and pulling out shards which he threw onto the deck. The contents they’d just laid inside sat there exposed for all to see.

Oops, said the Turr captain. "That’s very generous,