Rise to Infamy

By A.D. Arndt

Kye has no desire to die in glorious battle. So when the crew of the navy riverboat she’s assigned to is given orders for a suicide attack, Kye leads a mutiny and tosses the captain overboard. Now deserters, the group embarks on a scheme to become as wealthy as kings—if they can escape an invading empire, pull off a supply heist, cross a treacherous sea, convince an arrogant chancellor to fund their expedition, and keep their wizard, Raven, sober enough to be useful. When their quest to become very rich goes very awry, the deserters accidently find themselves thwarting the plans of a powerful order of evil wizards and rescuing a horde of mind-controlled slaves, while still managing to build a villainous reputation.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Oct 25, 2020
• ISBN: 9781665504980

Book preview

2020 A.D. Arndt. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 10/22/2020

ISBN: 978-1-6655-0499-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-0498-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2020920617

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Part 1

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Part 2

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Appendix

Excerpt from the Compiled

Writing of the Philosopher-

Sage Aerom of Uneret

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Part 1

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Chapter 1

T HE POACHERS HAD ELUDED CAPTAIN Tabreyelle for three cold, late-winter weeks. Now he finally had them. He pointed to the shore from their old navy riverboat and spoke to his crew in hushed tones. There. Smoke. And that looks like their boat pulled up on the shore. It was early morning, and his breath hung in the air. Boy, steer us to the r ight.

The boy, named Kye, adjusted the tiller and then huddled back under a thick cloak.

You mean starboard? said Aethalos dryly as he sat casually next to the captain. Aethalos, the first mate, was a good-looking young man with long, brown hair tied back into a ponytail. He wore a long jacket of studded black leather under his thick fur cloak.

Quiet! the captain hissed in irritation.

The two clansmen warriors, one named Brock and the other named Grawl, pulled hard on the oars. Captain Tabreyelle drew his sword. Wearing his gleaming mail and with his blond hair glistening in the pale winter light, he at least looked like a heroic knight.

Thanks to his incompetence, sprinkled with bad luck and arrogance, Captain Tabreyelle had been steadily working his way down the navy chain of command. At this point, he was lucky to be in charge of a riverboat. Even smaller than the tiniest of the navy’s coastal vessels, the riverboat was manned by a crew of only five and had deck space barely big enough for a half-dozen people to sleep. The deck was raised slightly in the bow and stern to allow for a bit of storage, but there were no quarters on the boat. It had a small mast and only two sets of oars. The riverboat was a humble command indeed.

While he was hunting poachers, most of Cromdon’s other soldiers were helping the allied forces on the mainland defend against the massive Southern Empire. Other men, younger men, were earning honor in glorious battles, and Captain Tabreyelle was missing all of it. But the only way the captain was going to get back into his superior’s good graces would be to do this job well, and that meant catching these poachers. Unfortunately, they were turning out to be almost supernaturally hard to catch. The only reason that Captain Tabreyelle had finally found them this time was that they had stumbled across some shady merchants who had traded cheap wine for poached fur. Under the threat of the law, they had given away the position of the poachers’ camp.

Off the oars and get into battle position, Captain Tabreyelle said quietly. Brock and Grawl put on their helmets and picked up their shields and weapons, an ax for Brock and a spear for Grawl. Like Aethalos, both Brock and Grawl wore long, studded leather armor, but they also carried round oaken shields painted with the navy design, a circle of red sharks on a blue background.

Looks like we missed them again, Aethalos said without bothering to be quiet. He pointed to the only boat on the shore, which was in a decrepit state of repair. Nearby, the muddy shore of the river was torn up where several other boats must have been hauled up for the night.

The captain shushed him. Although deep down the captain suspected Aethalos was right, maybe he could catch some of them or at least get a clue where they were going. Get up! he whispered to his crew. He paused for a moment as they drifted to shore, and then loudly whispered, Go, go, go!

The clansmen, Brock and Grawl, leaped overboard, splashing into the frigid river water, and bounded through the mud of the shore to the poacher camp, shields up and weapons at the ready. Aethalos casually got up and leaped gracefully onto the disabled boat in order to avoid the water and mud. Then he jogged slowly up to the camp, not even bothering to draw his sword. Although deeply annoyed by Aethalos’s lack of enthusiasm, the captain loathed the thought of appearing dirtier than his first mate, and so he followed the young man. Kye quickly tied up the boat up, picked up a crossbow, and then followed behind them.

As they approached, they saw that the camp had only recently been abandoned and was definitely set up for poachers. Behind a few ragged tents, there were several animal skins in the process of being tanned. The smell of smoke and the urine solution used for tanning leather hung heavily in the air. The campfire was still burning.

I think there’s someone here, Brock said. In the tent. He pointed to what appeared to be a sleeping form that was covered with a grimy fur blanket. Brock held his ax at the ready and then gently nudged the blanket with this boot, causing the person to stir and groan. Grawl plunged his spear into the ground and grabbed the bottom of the blanket. He jerked it back and then nearly fell over in surprise.

Under the blanket was a young woman cradling a flask, and although she was filthy and her black hair was tangled and greasy, she was quite attractive and completely naked. She shivered in the cold air and looked up at Grawl with unfocused eyes. She tried to curl up against the cold, but Grawl grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet.

Captain Tabreyelle pointed his sword at her. Where are the other poachers?

The raven-haired woman unsteadily leaned forward and opened her mouth as if to speak. Then she barfed onto the captain’s boots. Disgusting! the captain cursed. The men snickered slyly until the captain glared at them. Kye scowled.

Take her to the hold. She’s our prisoner, Captain Tabreyelle commanded.

Grawl laughed loudly and said, "Whoa, you want to keep her? Well, alright, sir, but you’d better clean her up before you lay with her. She smells like a goat." The captain knew from experience that Grawl was not a moral man, and so he obviously assumed that the captain had pleasure in mind. And yet by the skeptical look on his face, the captain suspected that even Grawl was having trouble overlooking the girl’s deplorable hygiene.

Grawl’s comment shocked the entire group. Aethalos blanched and Kye stepped forward with a look of pure outrage. But it was the raven-haired woman who spoke first. With a thick, throaty accent, she spat out, You should know I have a terrible sickness. Incurable. If you touch me, your skin will rot off, and you will die painfully. Her heavy accent made sick sound like seek. She looked directly at Grawl. So you better wash your hands, inbreed. Grawl pulled his hands away and wiped them on his armor.

Captain Tabreyelle was stunned to silence for a moment. Then he said, That…that is…very unfortunate for you. But you need not worry about being ill used by us, sickness or no. Those in my command lay only with a lawfully wedded wife. Grawl chuckled quietly at the last comment, but the captain ignored him and continued. Nevertheless, your sickness should make your sentence easier to accept. You have been caught poaching on the king’s land. The evidence is clear. You have committed a serious crime, one punishable by death.

Kye exchanged incredulous looks with Aethalos. Aethalos then said, Hold on. The poachers left her behind. I don’t think she’s one of them. She’s probably a prostitute. The woman looked utterly offended at the comment but kept quiet.

What are you talking about? Captain Tabreyelle said with disgust. No one would sleep with a diseased prostitute. She’s obviously guilty of poaching. I’m the captain, so I’m also the judge. Now move it.

The woman narrowed her eyes. I will help you find those half-wit poachers if you promise to let me go, she offered.

The captain waved his sword dismissively and repeated himself. I said move it. She shivered in the cold.

Kye’s outrage burst forth. She is freezing cold! Brock, get her clothes. Now! Kye’s voice was young but strong and self-assured. The captain rolled his eyes but said nothing.

Brock handed the raven-haired woman her heap of filthy, stained clothing. The captain waited impatiently as she pulled on layer after layer of mismatched clothes, starting with a tight corset around the waist, next a once-beautiful, long red dress trimmed with gold brocade and cut low to reveal her shoulders. Then she strapped on a dark-purple felt belt and pulled on a black fur-lined hat. Finally, she pulled on a simple, ruddy, peasant-quality mantle. Get my bag too, she ordered. Brock started to hand her the bag, but the captain stopped him.

Wait. What’s in there? the captain asked. Brock opened it and pulled out a book and a large pouch containing various herbs. The captain opened the book and looked at the cryptic sigils.

She’s a spy! These must be coded messages. And her accent… He gasped with a smile. She must be working for the South Empire! Ha, this is so much better than a poacher!

Scowling skeptically, Kye grabbed the book and flipped through the pages. "What language is this? Wait…these aren’t messages, these are spells! She’s a caster! Brock, bind her hands."

The captain looked doubly delighted. Oh ho, you really are a spy! What kind of mage travels with poachers?

The raven-haired woman glared at Kye. No, I’m not. Stop. Don’t. She twisted and struggled as Brock bound her hands. She hissed at the captain, "You let this little girl give orders to your men? You’re as worthless as a mouse fart!"

The captain, dreaming of his new promotion, replied distractedly, Why does everyone think Kye is a girl? You should grow a beard Kye. Alright, men. Take the prisoner to the hold and gather all the skins as evidence.

Actually, Kye was indeed a young woman. At ten years old, she had begun disguising herself as a boy so that she would be allowed to work onboard ships. Despite her boyish figure, it had become increasingly difficult to hide her true sex as she grew older, and now most people quickly recognized that she was a woman. Nevertheless, Captain Tabreyelle, exceptional in many ways, still believed her to be a boy even after being with her on the boat for several months.

A few minutes later, the clansmen shoved the boat into the river and climbed aboard. They turned the boat back toward the port city of Norland. The raven-haired woman crouched miserably in the rear hold, which was a tiny storage area containing barrels of supplies under the rear deck. A bit of foul-smelling water sloshed around her feet. With her hands bound, she had no way to cast spells, even if she could reach her spell-component pocket. So instead, she gazed despondently through the grate at the rowers who dipped their oars just frequently enough to avoid reprimand, content to let the river do most of the work. Kye worked the tiller while the captain looked out from the front deck, thinking and dreaming.

The river was the largest on the island nation and was the main artery of the kingdom. Currently, the boat traffic was extremely light because most merchant ships had been commandeered into the war effort. Although the day was cold, the sky was bright and the water deep blue. The tree-covered hills on either side of the river were scattered with evergreens and bare oaks. They passed by a few towers and several hamlets, but few people moved about.

Their kingdom was named Cromdon and encompassed several large islands in the Middle Sea, about a single day of sailing from the eastern side of the mainland. Cromdon had a long and turbulent history marred by continual feudal warfare, conquering lords, and civil war. It had only recently been again reunified as single nation, this time by King Honrik III. The king was a conqueror like his father and both his grandfathers. Within their three generations, they had subdued all opposition and finally King Honrik III had brought peace to the land. Except that he didn’t. In fact, he really didn’t know how to rule in peace time. Instead of reconstructing his newly won kingdom, he mustered as many able-bodied men as he could find and built up a massive military filled with men who had been, until recently, fighting one another as enemies. Then he sent those armies to fight alongside the allied forces in the war against the Southern Empire.

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With little to do for the next few hours as they sailed home, Aethalos squatted next to the hold so that he could to talk to the prisoner. What’s your name?

Call me Raven, she replied in her thick accent.

That isn’t your real name, is it? he asked.

No, my name is Amalie, but you barbarians cannot say it the right way, She said with disdain. You people always say, ‘AH-MUH-LEE.’ My name is ‘AH-mah-lee.’ It’s a beautiful name that rolls from the tongue like a fairy dancing on a bell. I cannot stand how you people make it sound like a troll chopping wood. No, Raven is a better name to use for you peasants. Then she softened her expression. These ropes hurt. Can you untie my hands?

Obviously no, said Aethalos. I can’t risk untying a spell caster.

I promise to be good, Raven said in her most innocent voice.

Sorry. Can’t help you, Aethalos said, shaking his head.

Then I hope you die, you bastard son of a fishmonger! she spat back with venom.

I guess I will someday, Aethalos mused aloud. You don’t have a disease, do you?

She snorted in derision and replied, Of course not! Then she calmed down. Why do you people think I’m a spy?

"Because of the war, obviously, he replied condescendingly. It sounds like your accent is from somewhere in the Gilded Peninsula. Plus, you’re a spell flinger wandering around with poachers. Why were you with those poachers?"

Because they paid well and didn’t ask annoying questions, Raven said defiantly.

Paid you to do what? asked Aethalos.

Cast spells, Raven said as though it were obvious.

What kind of spells?

Mostly ones that keep poachers from being seen by stupid soldiers and their stupider captains, she explained derisively.

Of course, if you really were a spy, they wouldn’t have left you behind, Aethalos mused.

I don’t even know about this war, Raven said.

Really? That is very hard to believe. The South Empire has been waging war for nearly a year, Aethalos responded.

Then why are you chasing me instead of fighting your war? Raven spat back.

Because we’re smart, he said. And then he quietly added a proviso. Except the captain.

He hesitated a moment before elaborating and then appeared to make up his mind that she was not in fact a spy. All of the young men in our country are being sent overseas to defend our allies on the mainland. But they’re no match for the Southern Empire. We’re losing badly. And worse, because no one is bothering to grow food, our soldiers are dying from starvation. I hear that more soldiers are dying from starvation and plagues than battle. You can see that it’s not a good time to join the army. But we’re an island kingdom, and so the king has ordered the navy to stay here and defend the kingdom. We’ve all found ways to join the navy and get safest assignment we could find. The two big guys are Sarecks, mountain clansmen from the north of Cromdon. The tall guy with the hook nose is Brock. He may look stupid, but he’s actually an amazing carpenter, and every navy ship needs a carpenter to keep the boat afloat.

Brock grinned at them. Brock was a towering nineteen-year-old man with short, brown hair. He was not handsome. He seemed to be too muscular for his thin frame and his hooked nose was crooked from having been broken repeatedly.

The fat guy is Grawl. Grawl rolled his eyes at them. I have no idea how he landed this assignment, but he’s crafty. Grawl was a bit shorter than Brock, and a few years older, but much stockier and had a full, reddish-brown beard.

I’m Aethalos. I was a squire, but I had a falling out with my knight, so they sent me here. He’s dead now, died in the fight against the Southern Empire.

What about the girl? Raven asked. Kye sat at the tiller. She had pulled the hood of her cloak down so she could see better, revealing her short, brown hair.

Her name is Kye. She is the only one of us who actually knows anything about boats or sailing. She—

Quit fraternizing with the prisoner! the captain commanded. They stopped talking, and Raven became sick again. Aethalos climbed up onto the rear deck and sat next to Kye.

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A few hours later, they neared the city of Norland. On the north side of the river, the land rose into towering hills, and on the south side it fell into marshland. Norland was a large deepwater port on the river’s north side, which rose steeply from the river’s edge high into the hills. On the highest hill was the king’s Summer Castle. It was said that if the crown prince dropped a marble, it would roll straight into the river. The oldest part of the city was surrounded by high walls, but trade and commerce had swelled the city well beyond its original walls. The city was now a chaotic sprawl of wattle-and-daub buildings, stone towers, crumbling walls, and muddy streets. Newer walls had been added around most of the new boroughs and might have been a formidable defense had they not been riddled with gates along the port to make it easier to unload cargo. The port usually hosted hundreds of vessels, from massive three-mast ships to tiny cogs and rowboats. Yet now it was virtually empty.

Where is everyone? the captain said to himself. As they approached the port, they saw a frenzy of activity at the walls. It looked as though the city was preparing for a siege.

Hey, the captain called out to an old man carrying supplies up from the docks, What’s going on?

We’re being attacked, that’s what! A hundred ships were spotted sailing up our coast. They’re almost on us!

The captain turned to his command with cheerful excitement. Change course, boy! To the right! Row us hard. It looks like we’ll get to fight for our country, after all!

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About an hour later, they approached the mouth of the river. A chilly wind had picked up, causing the waves to build and crest with white. Aethalos was at watch but was not paying much attention.

Whoa, veer starboard! Aethalos yelled too late as they crashed into some debris with a sickening thud. The boat shuddered, and the crew cursed. Thankfully, they didn’t see any damage to the hull.

Another piece, Aethalos shouted again. Portside. Kye adjusted the tiller, and they avoided it. Aethalos called out again and again. Although the river was wide, it was becoming increasingly thick with wreckage floating on the tide. With the waves, it was almost impossible to avoid hitting, especially the small pieces of wood, and they fretted with every thump.

As they rounded a cape, they could see about a dozen vessels, mainly small frigates, flying the colors of King Cromdon III. Oddly, they appeared to be sailing around aimlessly. Even stranger, two huge foreign galleys set about pulling sailors from the wreckage of sinking ships. It was hard to tell, but something about the waves looked wrong, perhaps as if the waves were hitting hidden shoals or some peculiar current. As the riverboat crested a large wave, a massive trireme warship appeared to slide out of nowhere bristling with oars, spears, and bronze spikes. Triremes were ugly ships that had three levels of oars. In order to cram more oars into less space, the benches were cleverly staggered such that the rowers on the bottom benches looked directly into the arse of the man seated above him. The top deck of the trireme was armored like a turtle and bristled with the spears of dozens of warriors ready to board enemy ships. Its nose was tipped with a massive ram in the likeness of a goat’s skull. The trireme was pointed straight toward one of Comdon’s navy ships, a sleek little caravel covered with sails. They lost sight of the ship for a moment as they dipped into a trough. Then as they came up again, they watched the monster trireme run straight over the caravel. The riverboat went back into a trough, and then they came back up and the trireme had vanished.

What just happened? the Captain yelled, astonished. Where did it go? But no one could spot it.

He ordered them forward so that he could see the battle better. A few minutes later, they watched again as another trireme appeared from nowhere to crush another navy ship.

Whose ships are those? Aethalos asked Kye.

The Southern Empire. Those are warships of the Gilded Peninsula, she answered. Only the Gilded Peninsula, the ruling state of the Southern Empire, used them. That meant the Southern Empire was attacking Cromdon directly. But I don’t know why they keep disappearing. They must be hiding somehow, like they’re invisible.

Raven jerked to attention. Invisible? There must be Whisper-shapers! Raven called out from her cage.

The captain ignored her. Finally, I can fight for glory! the Captain exclaimed happily.

Raven continued urgently. Whisper-shapers must be making the ships invisible. You’ve got to turn around. Now!

Whisper-whats? I can’t even understand your lies, spy! the captain responded flippantly.

They watched as another trireme rammed the biggest navy ship still afloat, an elegant, three-mast galley flying the flag of King Honrick’s youngest sister, the Duchess of Ives. Although irreparably damaged, the galley sank slowly, and the sailors prepared for a hand-to-hand melee. Enemy warriors jumped off the trireme onto the wounded galley. It was difficult to make out details of the battle, but they could differentiate their navy troops from the enemy warriors by their weapons: swords and axes for Cromdon’s sailors and spears for the warriors of the South Empire. The battle looked vicious. The navy troops were far too few to defeat the Southern Empire soldiers. The battle would clearly be lost in minutes.

Wait, what’s that? Kye asked, pointing out an odd set of waves moving against the current toward them. Maybe we should listen to her. She gazed warily at the odd set of waves.

Listen to a spy? Nonsense, replied the captain. Forward. For King Honrick III!

If we attack, we’re going to lose, Aethalos added. You’re ordering us to our deaths.

Dying in battle is the greatest honor, said the captain. But they obviously are taking prisoners. Look, those enemy ships are nobly saving our men from the sea.

"No! They’re taking them for slaves, Raven screamed. The Whisper-shapers will erase their minds and make them into thralls for rowing, or worse. We’ve got to get out of here now. Turn around! Now! Raven’s pleas became increasingly hysterical. Help me! Help! Please! Let me out! Please!"

Captain drew his sword and yelled over the cries of the prisoner, Onward! To glory! And would someone shut her up!

Brock and Grawl waited for Kye’s signal to start rowing. Kye hesitated. She looked again at the odd set of waves. They were definitely getting closer.

What are you waiting for! Row! the captain ordered. We have to join the fray! Come on!

Kye looked over at Aethalos. He stared intently at the same patch of water that Kye was watching. From the corner of her eye, she saw another trireme blink into view and then crush one of the few remaining navy ships. As she turned to look, the trireme disappeared. The only sign of it was an odd set of waves—the same odd-looking waves that approached their little riverboat. Kye was certain the odd waves coming toward them were made by an invisible trireme, and it would reach them in minutes.

As they watched, the captain grew livid. Don’t be cowards! If I have to ask you to get moving again, I will prosecute you to the full extent of my authority.

Hardly any allied ships were left, and a fleet of enemy ships sailed into the river’s mouth. Apparently, the invisible ships were the vanguard to a much larger force. It was a hopeless fight.

What are you waiting for, boy! The captain turned to look directly at Kye. You will steer this ship toward that battle, or I’m going to lock you in the hold! It was an idle threat because there was space for only one person in the hold, and Raven was already in it.

They didn’t have much time if they were going to escape. Aethalos and Kye glanced at each other and nodded slightly. The captain frowned, appearing to sense that something was amiss with his crew. Kye then looked to the big clansmen and gestured toward the captain. Throw him overboard! she said. Quickly! Brock grabbed the captain’s sword arm while Grawl disarmed him.

What? This is outrageous. Listen to me, not the boy! Stop! Together, Brock and Grawl hoisted the captain up and tossed him into the churning blue water with a loud splash.

Captain Tabreyelle panicked. Help, I can’t swim with my…my armor! He splashed in the churning water.

Kye threw him a spare oar. Slip off your chain mail, you fool, and grab the oar. Now that he was in the water, she was tempted to vent on him, perhaps explain why she could not in fact grow a beard. But she knew time was short. Besides, she was starting to panic a bit too.

As calmly as she could, she began issuing orders. Brock, Aethalos, hoist the sail, just like I showed you guys. Grawl, row hard. They’re coming right at us. We need to move fast. She pulled as hard on the tiller as she could without capsizing them in the waves and pointed them toward the maze of islands on the south side of the river. Kye spared a glance back at the captain, but he was already out of sight. She felt a bit badly about having him thrown overboard, but the enemy ships were picking up Cromdon soldiers from the water, so perhaps they would pick him up as well.

Let me out! Raven screeched.

Will you quiet for a bit! It’ll be close, but if we make it to those islands, we’ll escape. We have the advantage in shallow water, Kye said, trying to reassure herself as much as anyone else.

Raven took a deep breath and calmed a little. Let me help. This boat is small enough I can hide it, turn it invisible. Please, let me help.

Kye tied the tiller to hold course for a second and then jumped down in front of the grate. How do I know you aren’t lying?

That is why you couldn’t find your poachers. I know the art of invisibility, for people and for boats. Let me help before it’s too late. Judging by the speed that the odd waves approached them, the invisible trireme was moving very fast. Kye felt desperate.

It didn’t take long for Kye to make a decision. Raven was clearly trying to avoid the Southern Empire ships, and her explanation made clear why it was so hard to catch the poachers. Kye took out her knife and cut the rope holding the grate shut. Then she pulled Raven out from the hold and cut the