The Bahawre Revelation: Legends of Aeo, #3

By Chris L. Meyers

"Humans don't taste good or digest pleasantly." - Putlag

 

The third book in the Legends of Aeo fantasy series brings some dramatic twists.

 

War is coming and Putlag's worst fear may become reality. And the dragon knows more about Boman's declining health than he is telling.

Fend's mission to discover the secret behind Regent Grendic's rise to power is in jeopardy. What is Grendic after? And is there still time to stop him?

 

As Zille experiences more upheaval, can Geoffrey save his family? Can Emma turn tragedy into purpose?

 

Check out this thrilling third book of the series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chris L. Meyers
• Release date: Nov 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393397861

Chris L. Meyers

Chris L. Meyers is an author, short story writer and software developer. After a decade teaching secondary school and over 15 years writing software, he began writing fantasy stories. His journey into writing began when he complained about the excessive description in the fantasy book he was reading at the time. His wife told him to write his own, so he did. His first novel, The Bahawre Legend, was published in 2017 on CreateSpace and KDP. This was followed by The Bahawre Covenant in 2018. Expect two more books in this series. He published Distraction-Free Writing in early 2018, a result of a challenging time in his life where he learned a lot about minimizing distractions so he could get things done. Chris lives in the Kansas City area with his wife and kids where he works as a software developer and writes in his free time. Apart from software development and writing, he enjoys geekery, gardening, food and tinkering with things.

Book preview

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

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Many people deserve thanks for this book.

See The Bahawre Legend for the full list.

PRONUNCIATION

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Aeo – ee oh

Bahawre ‒ ba ha ree

Boman ‒ bo man (like a bowman)

Eyric ‒ eye rick

Onor ‒ oh nor

Tyriel ‒ tee ree el

Zille ‒ zeel (like zeal)

Dilli – dill ee

Not Home

What on Aeo are you doing out here in such a worthless craft?

Fend recognized the captain of the Swift Lady. One of the most successful merchant captains in Streng, Bilam was as stern as a military captain — probably a significant factor in his success. His trimmed gray hair and beard framed a weathered face, unaffected by the stiff wind from the west.

It was this or nothing, Fend gestured to the questionable boat he and Boman had built. I was on a Far Islands ship, if you can call it a ship.

Mm.... Captain Bilam looked him over for a moment, then his eyes widened slightly in what Fend thought was recognition. The raised brow seemed a indicate a question.

Fend glanced at the other men, then gave the captain a quick nod.

The captain returned the nod, appearing to understand Fend’s secretive demeanor. He turned to his first mate who squinted in the late afternoon sun. Set him up in my cabin and bring him some food. I’ll speak with him in private.

Fifteen minutes later, Fend sat alone in the captain’s cabin, grumbling at his dinner plate. Ceramic and accompanied by real silverware and a cloth napkin, it stood in stark contrast to Bahawre customs.

The cook had piled the plate high with pork, potatoes and competing emotions. It smelled wonderful and awful at the same time. Fend unfolded the napkin and chuckled as he placed it in his lap. Before his weight loss on the island, it would have hung from his shirt collar and he would have had no hope of seeing his lap.

After another minute, he sighed. He couldn’t eat with so much going through his mind. He discarded the napkin and stood to look through the porthole. The sea was calm, rising and falling in a regular cadence.. The ship’s gentle rocking motion was the only thing that felt right at the moment.

He looked at his meal again. It would be rude to refuse. Captain Bilam honored him by offering his cabin and table. And his plate clearly contained something better than sailor’s rations. Might as well enjoy it. He could establish new habits once he returned to Streng.

Three bites in, the captain entered and sat across the table.

You’ve barely touched your meal. Is everything okay?

Too much on my mind. It’s been a long couple of months. Fend managed another bite.

How did you end up on that ... well, I hate to call it a life boat. More of a death trap.

Fend swallowed a mouthful of pork. It all started when I left a few months ago. Secret mission, you understand. On our way back, a storm threw us off course. I became very ill. Bedridden. When we came through the storm, we were near the Far Islands. With our mission so urgent and me so sick, they dropped me off. I passed the secrets to my first mate to finish the mission, and he left with the rest of the crew.

Why would they leave you like that?

No choice. The mission was too critical. They needed to get to Streng as quickly as possible. I trust they made it?

Bilam shook his head. Never arrived. Presumed lost.

No! Fend feigned shock and shook his head in disbelief.

The ship was spotted by a merchant ship. Another captain I know. Must have been a critical mission indeed. He said she had sailed dangerously close to the Forbidden Zone.

Fend hung his head. Then the mission failed.

Yes. After scratching his beard a few seconds, Bilam spoke quietly. The reaction to your return is likely to be mixed. And not only because you were declared dead.

Presumed dead? Hadn’t thought of that, actually. Huh. But as you said, my return could be tricky either way. I suspect the political climate has shifted in favor of the regent.

Captain Bilam nodded. Just to remove the mystery, I’m on your side. The regent hasn’t claimed the throne yet, but I imagine time is short. With no heir, what’s to stop him?

My news will postpone his plans.

Fend noticed Bilam’s raised brow and used the gravity of the conversation as an excuse to push his plate aside. He leaned back in his chair. I’m sure you understand, Captain. My news is for certain ears only.

The captain frowned. Certainly, he understood, but he didn’t hide his disappointment.

If you’re on my side, Fend continued, folding his napkin, the best thing you can do for me is quietly get me into Streng. If I don’t find the right people first, my news may never be heard.

So it really is as bad as it looks?

Fend nodded.

Bilam grunted. "I always hated Regent Grendic. Couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something off about him. King Grendic would be worse."

Hopefully, I can help everyone else see that. Fend stared at his lap for a moment, contemplating his next question. I need to find Lord Sterm, Lord Olend and Mopesh the jeweler. Do you have any news of them?

No. But I can find out. An inn I visit on occasion also traffics information. I should be able to dig up at least a few tidbits for you.

Fend raised his brow.

I don’t always bring my own ship into port, Bilam explained. Cargo transfers can be more costly than hitching a ride. And it’s harder on my wife if I can only spend the night. It’s best if she doesn’t know I’m here until I can stay a few days.

Fend had heard of merchant captains combining resources. He also understood how restless a crew could get after months at sea. Such agreements would give Bilam’s crew some port time in a more exotic location than home. Although Fend had never married, he could imagine how one evening for a couple might be worse than no time at all.

How about the rest of your men? Do you think they recognized me?

I doubt it. The few that saw you didn’t show any hint of recognition. You used to be much ... larger.

I was.

Older too.

Yes.

How? You return from such an experience healthier and younger? No offense, but it’s not natural.

Fend chuckled. The Far Islands have some interesting healing techniques.

Bilam made no attempt to hide his skeptical frown, but he didn’t press. Maybe I’ll have to stop by next time I’m out that way. Regardless, we can use the weight loss to our advantage. If we hide your face under a hood and claim you’re ill from near starvation, we can stow you in a room for a few days while I inquire about your friends.

That might work. I apologize for my secrets, Captain Bilam. Trust me, I know how frustrating it can be to have things hidden from you. But it can’t be helped.

We do what we must, Fend. Secrets are an unfortunate curse of leadership. But don’t think I’m ignorant. I can fill in the gaps on my own. Most of them, anyway. You’ll have no trouble from me. We’ll reach port in a few hours. I’m sure you have much to think about. I’ve ordered the men to keep clear of the foredeck. You’ll have privacy there.

Thank you, captain.

The men stood and shook hands.

After the door closed, Fend cast a troubled glance at his dinner. He shook his head, then took the spiral staircase to the foredeck. The late spring breeze carried salty air to his lungs in a deep breath. It reminded him of Bahawre Island.

To the west he thought he saw a hint of land. Streng. Home.

No. Not anymore. He frowned. The island had sunk its claws into him so quickly, so deeply he missed it more than he expected. And his friends. Boman, Eyric, Caedmon and his former crew. And now, a heavy secret to keep.

A dragon’s secret. He remembered his journey from the island and shuddered. Never before had Fend seen so much raw power on display. His first sight of a sea serpent had turned him white. He expected he would die. Sea green, longer than his boat and fast. Not just fast, but also powerful. No wonder the stories only came from sailors who watched another boat from afar.

As awe-inspiring as the sea serpents were, the dragon far surpassed them. Putlag’s raw size and power proved to be far superior. Diving into the sea and emerging with halves of sea serpents in his jaws, Putlag left no doubt in Fend’s mind he could make good on his threats. Fend would never tell a soul about the island.

His mind wandered to his history lessons. The dragon wars. How were they wars? They should have been titled massacres. How did humans ever manage to battle such creatures? Unless Putlag was an exceptional specimen, Fend could not imagine humans defending themselves, much less attacking.

Time for more pertinent thoughts. He began to rehearse the story Putlag had created. The first half of it had worked well with the captain. In fact, Bilam had not bothered to ask about his voyage from the Far Islands. Their ships sank as often as not, and the rickety boat he and Boman had built passed as a Far Islands vessel.

He had been nervous about selling his story, but now it didn’t seem to be a problem. But he had to devise a plan to handle the regent. Grendic was a formidable foe.

Fend had lost a significant amount of time on the island. No doubt Grendic’s grip on Streng would be much stronger now. He had no choice but to trust Bilam, a man he barely knew.

The One grant me wisdom and fortune, he murmured. Hopefully his allies were still alive.

Finding Boman

Pointy roofs were the first aspect of Streng’s architecture to attract Emery’s attention. In the mid-afternoon sun, they cast jagged shadows on adjacent buildings giving the city an even sharper feel. The wide-open docks of the harbor were filled with people all over Aeo. Big businesses, little businesses, thievery and poverty blended together seamlessly in a gigantic human quilt.

Making port at such a busy time of day meant they had to wait an hour for dock space. This gave Emery an opportunity to watch the different ships as they arrived and departed. He began to recognize the ships from different countries.

Streng ships were by far the most numerous, this being their home port. Long and narrow, they had three masts and triangular sails.

Dillian ships, on the other hand, were wide and bulky. Two masts and square sails distinguished them from their Streng counterparts. Primarily merchants, Dillians preferred ships with cargo capacity over speed.

Emery was aboard the only Zillean ship, a three-masted, square-sailed vessel. Its girth was somewhere between Streng and Dillian ships. Being of the military variety, its shields and cannons, made it stand out in the crowd.

One Onorian vessel caught Emery’s attention. An odd sight in Streng, since they rarely crossed the sea. It was an angular ship with a low draft. A single mast with a square sail was supplemented by oars.

It was late afternoon before they finally docked. The Dancing Lizard was the first inn with a vacancy. Even though it was several blocks from the harbor, the salty smell of the sea and day-old fish still tainted the air. By the time they had unloaded their gear and carted it to the inn, little time remained to look for Boman before the harbor businesses closed.

Hustling as best he could through the crowded streets, Emery hid his coin purse in a pocket within a vest pocket. As he snaked his way through the masses, he considered his situation. One might find it odd that he was allowed to strike out on his own. After all, he was a prisoner.

But when Emery had asked the captain for permission to return to the harbor, the man shrugged. Whatever you think will get you home sooner. Do that.

He was right, of course. The captain was Emery’s only path back to Zille. And Boman was his ticket. Why would the man care if Emery ran off?

Should he return to drag Lief and Salmon along with him? Emery quickly dismissed the idea. They had refused to venture out, citing exhaustion from the voyage.