Suddenly the doorway filled with mutinous sailors, their swords drawn. Behind them all stood Nikronallia, smiling. "A little late, Captain!" he shouted. Captain Patrochian replied tersely. "Really? I think your death will be most timely."
The loyalist sailors jumped up, and the two sides charged each other. Then began a fury of flashing metal and the sharp clanging of swords. Looking back J'role saw that the corridor behind them was empty. He tugged on Releana's leg. She looked where he pointed, then shouted, "Come!" She leaned down to help J'role up, and the two of them began moving away as quickly as possible from the fierce battle.
Four mutineers appeared before them swords Drawn, Battle fury on their reptilian faces.
Before J’role could even panic, Releana threw more crystalline darts forward in two waves, each wave cutting a mutineer. The other two t'skrang ran off.
J'role glanced back Nikronallia and his followers drove the captain and her loyal sailors down the corridor.
J'role and Releana made their way down several more corridors, the captain and her men following as they tried to keep the mutineers at bay. When J'role realized that they had entered the ship's supply holds he tugged on Releana's arm, pointing down a corridor to the right.
Releana did not know why J'role wanted to turn, but she followed willingly, as did the others.
J'role knew exactly where they were, however. Ahead, on the right, was the storeroom with the fire-coals. If they couldn't hold the engine room, J'role decided they would at least control the materials needed to make the engine work. He indicated the door, and Releana pushed it open.
Two mutineers, alerted by the sound of the door opening, stood facing the doorway, swords drawn. Both lunged forward as Releana dropped J'role to the ground. She fumbled trying to get more dirt out of her-pouch, and the bag fell to the ground. Both mutineers drove their rapiers into Releana's shoulder. She cried out in pain. J'role struggled to get up, though he could feel his chest still wet and sticky from the blood drawn by Nikronallia’s dagger. Then a rapier appeared over his head, and someone dragged Releana out of the way. Captain Patrochian had arrived, and she cut down the mutineers with four precise stabs. "Good. Good," she said. "Everyone in."
They got a huge wooden bar braced against the door just as the mutineers began to pound on the door to get in. From his corner spot, J'role took stock of the group: Captain Patrochian, Releana, the questor, and one other sailor. Everyone else had died or fallen in the retreat from the engine room. Including Voponis, most likely killed by the fireball back at the engine room.
"Captain-" the questor began.
Patrochian cut him off. "See to the boy. I need to think."
The pounding of the door continued, and J'role did not see how the captain could contemplate anything, given the racket and the knowledge that her ship had fallen to traitors. She leaned against a wall and closed her large blue eyes.
At least they were alive, he thought, not killed in their sleep. There was that. J role realized that sometimes sheer survival was the challenge, and success in that the victory.
The questor approached, probed his wound, then began to speak in the t'skrang tongue, with its many long S and T sounds. A sense of well-being drifted through his flesh, and he felt the same sheltering warmth he'd known as a little boy so many, many years ago.
Soon he was lulled into a light sleep
He woke when he heard the captain ask, "Why, though? Why did he do it?" The questor now stood near the, door, listening. Everyone else sat on a few scattered boxes.
J'role was instantly alert to the question and caught the attention of Releana He made the gesture they'd invented for Throal when the had left Blood Wood.
“Throal," Releana said to the captain.
The captain blinked. "The dwarfs. .? That idiot is still. ." She sighed, leaned against the wall. "Getting people to move forward … is so difficult."
"What is it?" asked Releana
"The dwarfs. I've been trying to set up contacts with Throal. I want to use the Breeton as one of their agents to reunite Barsaive under their control, instead of waiting for the Therans to return. If they return. But some of my kind fear the power of Throal. I had no idea most of my crew belonged to that camp."
A pounding began al the door. Everyone else stood up, alert and tense, but drowsiness had begun to overtake J'role. His consciousness wavered for a few minutes but finally the pain and loss of blood took its toll. Drifting, sleeping, dreaming; he left the crisis at hand and hid in the safety of his thoughts.
"J'role? J'role?"
He opened his eyes and saw Releana looking down at him. Something bothered him, something was wrong. How did she know his name?
"J'role!" came a cry from outside the door.
Garlthik.
"Is your name, your true name, J'role?" Releana asked.
He nodded, and slowly raised himself. He felt better. The questor sat next to him, touched J’role’s forehead, and nodded. J'role looked down at his chest and saw a thick purple scab, six inches long.
"Someone is calling for you," said the captain, "though I don't know who it is."
"J'role," Releana, said, taking his hand and shaking it. "It's a pleasure, to meet you."
Despite the desperateness of the situation, she smiled.=
J'role looked to the door. Three large crates had been set against it. From beyond the door Garlthik. said, "J'role, listen to me. I know you can't speak, lad. But I've got your father.
You've got to acknowledge that. I don't, want to harm him, understand. But I can't speak for these cutthroats. You've got to open the door, boy. That's what they told me to tell you. Now, you've got to answer me. There's no telling what they might do. J'role!"
J'role looked to the captain, who nodded.
J'role walked over to the door, climbed up on one of the crates and knocked twice. "Ah.
There's a lad." Garlthik lowered his voice, and J'role strained to hear. "I don't know if it's really you yet, so I'm going to have to test you. Knock once for the first answer, twice for the second. Did I initiate you in a building or a field?”
J'role remembered the night of the initiation at the inn. e knocked once.
"Ahhh. And did I initiate you with fire or water?"
J 'role remembered Garlthik grabbing his hand and moving his wrist over the open candle. The memory overwhelmed him. He grabbed his wrist with his other hand. It felt warm to the touch. But he also remembered the terrible pain with fondness, Garlthik's strong arms holding his wrist in place. He found himself suddenly missing Garlthik. He thought back to their time together on the road. J'role lowered his forehead against the door. He then knocked once.
Garlthik’s voice became something close to a whisper. "Now, once for no, and twice for yes. Do you know the ways now, lad? Do you enjoy being a thief?"
J'role hesitated. Yes. And no. The pause lingered. Finally he knocked once. And then twice.
“Well, then there it is," whispered Garlthik. "For only a thief knows how confusing his talents are. Boy, listen. They're going to bash this door down. They would have blown it open already, but for fear of the fire-coals within. But they will enter. Make things easier.
I've spoken for you and your friends. As a thief, I've got a certain influence with folks like these. They asked me to help them and in return, I'm getting to Throat. I want to take you along with me. I've stopped them from killing your, father. But I can't hold them off for much longer."
J’role’ was stunned by Garlthik's bold lies. For a moment he wondered if Garlthik had changed his mind. Maybe he would come through.