Open Wardrobes

Yep, it's that time of day again. I managed about about 2000 words today, so I'll still keeping ahead of the game (which should provide me with a bit of a buffer when I hit the inevitable plot snag). So the good news is that I should hit the 10,000 word mark tomorrow. Though I still feel like I'm just in the process of introducing characters and laying out the background. That probably means what you're reading now will all be cut in half in any future revisions but here is today's installment unedited and fresh off the word processor (did I mention I'm writing this on my new Mac using Open Office? This novel is currently a Microsoft-free zone). And my apologies if the formatting looks a little funny; the HTML of the blog doesn't pick up all the tabs and so forth in the original. Anyway, here we go, day three!




They had scoured the kingdom in the wake of the disaster for anything of use, leaving behind only a kingdom laid waste and those who refused to leave their ravaged home. And Lemuel's father never stopped searching for the Heart, of that Lemuel was certain. Whatever King Ottotorius had done with it he had not shared the secret even with the Admiral. If Admiral Drake did not know, Lemuel doubted anyone living yet did.
Whatever obsession the Admiral had born for this rock, Lemuel did not share it and was at least glad that it should be laid to rest with his father. Sickness had taken him, reducing the once-proud seafarer to a shivering skeleton before Lemuel's eyes and in truth he had assumed command some weeks ago in anticipation and necessity. It grieved his father to leave the restoration of the kingdom unfinished, and Lemuel never had the heart to tell the Admiral that he himself help little hope it should ever be accomplished. Death to the pirates was Lemuel's only remaining creed, and it had given Admiral Drake some comfort to hear the oaths Lemuel had sworn of their demise.
"I swear before you, father," Lemuel promised him, "that I shall seek death to the line of Foxx, be the old Grey captain's heirs as numerous as the starts themselves, until I find my own death. With this oath too I will bind my own sons and their sons until it at last be accomplished."
Admiral Drake was thus given as much comfort in death as his son could now manage, for no hope of comfort in the body yet remained. Lemuel promised also no peace with the pirates as long as he lived and would continue to rally the fleet the folk of the Ruined Kingdom to expand their new realm in the islands of the Coral Seas. Only the Forest Kingdom had shown any willingness to harbor any of their people following the disaster, but their life in the trees appealed to few of the folk who had lived so long by the sea. And each island they could take for their own was one less in the hands of the pirates and their so-called "king."
When the Admiral passed Lemuel upheld his final wish that he be buried at sea in the same manner as which many of his men had preceded him. Lemuel felt his father deserving of greater honor than this, but would not dishonor his father's memory by refusing him now. And so the sea claimed his body, dragged quickly down by the weight of so much cannon. The Admiral's crew stood by, stoic but grief-stricken as most had served under Lemuel's father since a time before the disaster. They knew the weight the Admiral had felt to preserve their Ruined Kingdom as best he could. They knew too well how the sorrow of that great loss had evermore haunted him. And they shared his unwavering desire to see their kingdom rise again. How could Lemuel, still just a young man of not-yet-thirty measure up to such expectations?
The Admiral's ship, the Savage, sat listless half a dozen leagues of the coast of the Shepherd's Isle, the greenest of all those under the Ruined Kingdom's sway, though that was not so great a boast. The Savage was a fine ship, the best that could be salvaged after the disaster, if not quite matching the glory of the Admiral's earlier vessels. In length it was nearly twice the length of any pirate vessel, which gave it great advantage in cannon and men if not in speed and agility. It had been constructed nearly at the height of the Ruined Kingdom's skill with masts easily lost if the clouds hung low and over a thousand men manning in several decks. It bore oars enough as well for every man to do his part and the pirates feared its approach most on a windless day. But for all its glory the Savage could do little against the pirates' greater numbers. Standing at the helm of the greatest ship in all the Coral Seas meant little when seven of your enemies encircled you. Admiral Drake had scraped together what remained of the shipwright's skill to replenish their number (even so diminished he had commanded more willing men than ships to carry them), but the stunted trees on the rocks they called home were rarely up to the task. The Forest Kingdom, once so willing to fell for them entire forests, sold them barely enough trees now to supply the masts and even those came at a steep price.
Now with the funeral rites complete Captain Lemuel Drake, commander of the fleet of the Ruined Kingdom, stood at an uncertain crossroad. Well and good it was to promise the dead to seek the death of all pirates but such oaths did not now provide him with a clear and certain course. He had sent spies some time before, under the name of the Admiral, to keep watch over the Sacred Isle, knowing that Grey Foxx's death too seemed imminent. Lemuel had hoped the pirates in either their pride or folly would gather all the fleet there together to pass the captaincy and kingship to the young Red Foxx. Alas, they had shown a greater wisdom and no word came that more a ship or two there had been spied. Of where their fleet now waited to welcome the new Captain Foxx Lemuel had no hint and his hope of a sudden ambush was dashed. Even still the oaths made to his father felt hollow as he had hoped someday to fell the dread Captain Grey Foxx with his own hand. Of retribution for the kingdom he in truth felt little desire. Of the death of King Ottotorius he mourned none, for he had never felt much love for the bitter old monarch. And the Ruined Kingdom, he often thought, might fare better under a truce with the pirates than to so doggedly pursue them as enemies at the expense of the Ruined folk's own future. They had waited for twenty years as exiles under the vain hope of an eventual return to their homeland. But the land that had been theirs grew ever more desolate and even those that had not left before began to do so in greater numbers. No, the only true flame that kindled his sense of revenge was held for another of the fallen who had deserved no such watery grave. In memory of the Princess Amarantha alone had he sworn to slay the name of Foxx.
Lemuel's first mate Jack Flint joined his captain and spoke words Lemuel had no ear for. He nodded without much thought, desiring mainly to leave his father's grave. Vaguely he caught the name of Harbarrow, a port used much for the purposes of trade between kingdoms. Though in name it lay within the Island Kingdom's aqueous borders it was common understanding that any folk of the Five Kingdoms could walk therein unhindered. It would serve the purpose of gaining what news was known of the whereabouts of Captain Red Foxx. Mate Flint nodded, receiving the approval he had sought for their present course, and returned to the helm. The sails caught the wind and drove them ahead. Lemuel looked back at the dwindling sight of the Shepherd's Isle. His father had loved this place, as much as he had loved any island, for it had reminded him most of the rolling fields of the Shipwright's Kingdom before their ruin. Lemuel had thought it fitting to put his father to rest here, where he could dwell forever in sight of it. He turned to look to the fore. It was a three-day sail from here to Harbarrow with the wind at their backs. That would give Lemuel time enough to ponder how to plot his course from there.
Lemuel crossed the deck and headed aft, mostly ignoring the condolences his men uttered as he passed, giving them but the most cursory of acknowledgements. He closeted himself in the captain's cabin and tossed his hat upon the bunk, throwing himself down upon in a moment later. Lemuel tried to give himself a moment of silence, untroubled by events past or future. He struggled out of the old Admiral's coat and flung it aside, but still could not find any comfort. Even this space felt foreign to him. It had but a day ago been the Admiral's cabin, after all, and still bore all his marks. Yet to have descended below deck and sought his old cabin now might have been interpreted as weakness or indecision by the crew. He sunk into the bunk he father had but lately died upon determined to make no outward showing at his own uneasiness. Such an inheritance to be so quickly thrust upon anyone! Lemuel cursed the old Grey Foxx as the architect of all his misfortune. But for him where he be now? Still at sea, he supposed, but as the captain of a lesser vessel in thrall to a greater kingdom. Lemuel understood at last, whatever the benefits of command may be, how grateful he had been to always have his father's will to follow. Kicking his hat aside, Lemuel closed his eyes.

"Lem, watch this!"
The boy turned to see the young princess as she attempted to walk up on her hands, an attempt which soon left her tumbling in the grass. He laughed as she picked herself up, then stopped as he caught a glimpse of her flint-like eyes. But as she pulled her scarlet hair aside he saw her wide smile and they laughed together. Her white dress had been stained beyond recovery and Lemuel worried just for a moment at what punishment she might receive for her carelessness this time, but that thought was erased as she grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the river. It was her favorite place, here by the river in the shadow of the palace and in sight of the sea. It had been a full score of years since her father the king had sailed himself, but the sea it seemed flowed through her blood.
"Look what I made, Lem, just like your father's!" Aramantha splashed among the rocks as she placed her toy ship into one of the eddies and there let it drift. Lemuel couldn't say that the tiny ship much resembled his father's, but who was he to gainsay the princess?
"Someday you'll be a captain too," the princess told him, "and I'll be queen. Shall we not have such fun then?"
Before Lemuel could answer the scene shifted and he was standing knee-deep in mud. He was older now and the mighty river had transformed into a stinking bog that spread like a sickness in all directions. The palace had crumbled and in the water Lemuel thought he saw something in white floating listlessly with the current, strands of hair spread out like some twisted spider...

Lemuel woke suddenly. He hadn't meant to sleep. And this dream was one he had had too often as of late. The knock at the door came as a welcome distraction and he quickly donned his coat to answer it. Jack Flint looked as he had urgent news.
"Foxx?" Lemuel asked at once.
"No, Captain," Flint answered, "but a vessel approaching fast under the standard of the Sorcerer."
Flint stood quickly aside as Lemuel strode out of his cabin and climbed to the helm. The helmsman handed the captain the glass. Setting it to his eye Lemuel followed Flint's direction and pointed it north-northeast. He caught sight of the approaching ship and brought the glass into focus. It bore down upon them with all possible speed, the red banner streaming behind it. Lemuel could just make out the design of the four-pointed star upon it and wondered what mission the Sorcerer could have with them.