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Shattered Dreams: Prologue
Kham was shown into a large drawing room, high ceilinged and comfortable with blue settees and a deep green carpet. There were several objects of art in evidence: a white ivory tusk with a circular procession of figures carved around its length and a brass polar bear lazing on a crystal ice floe to name two. Kham sat down on one of the settees.
Corinalous soon appeared. He looked very pale and drawn. He was a dark-skinned Altherian, with long white hair and moustache.
“Hi, dad.” Kham didn’t get up. “Long time, no see.”
Corinalous sat down on the other settee. “I wanted to speak with you first before I spoke to your friends.”
“Do you remember the last time we had a quiet drink?” Kham poured two glasses of wine from a carafe.
Corinalous took the offered glass. “Hmm…what did we talk about?”
“We didn’t talk,” said Kham. He took a sip. “We never talked.”
“And do I detect a rebuke?”
“A regret. It was just the two of us, dad. It was a lonely way to grow up. For you, too. If you had been an ordinary, average father like the other guys' dads, you'd have understood that.“
“Actually, I was a wonderful father."
“When?"
“Did I ever tell you to eat up? Go to bed? Wash your ears? Do your homework? No. I respected your privacy and I taught you self-reliance."
“What you taught me was that I was less important to you than the Emerald Society; less important than people who had been dead for five hundred years in another country. And I learned it so well that we've hardly spoken for twenty years."
“Kham, it’s true, I’ve stayed away from Freeport ever since I discovered you had made it his base of operations.”
“Why?”
“I’ve never been totally truthful with you, son.” He nodded towards the huge sword that was never far from Kham’s side. “That…thing and I were acquainted before. And I knew I had to get it as far away from you as I possibly could.”
“That’s why you were always gone? Because of a stupid sword?”
“Fleshripper’s not just a sword, son.” Corinalous’ gaze fixed on Kham. “You can feel it already, can’t you? It’s like a leech in your soul, drawing out your life; and yet you cannot bear to be parted from it. I thought that I could control it too. After much research, it became clear that there was only one thing I could do: I used an ancient ritual to bind my life force to the sword. After that, it could no longer steal the souls of its victims, and it could no longer exert its will so easily on its wielder. But I was wrong. The sword has a great power, one I could not contain. It slowly draws upon the soul of its wielder, until eventually that soul is consumed by the sword as well. You’ve probably felt that pull before, and I imagine it’s stronger now.”
Kham nodded, wordlessly. It was almost unbearable, the urge to kill his own father.
“My proximity to the blade is doubtless causing it to stir, and it is that reason the Emerald Society has not stepped in until now, as per my wishes. I am sorry I had to cause you so much pain, son, but it was the only thing I could do until I figured out how to defeat the cursed blade once and for all.”
“That explains why all my requests to have Fleshripper examined were denied.” Kham took another swig. “It doesn’t explain how the sword ended up in my hands though.”
“I hid the sword away in a secret location, hoping it would lay undisturbed until I found a way to destroy it permanently. But the sword had different plans. It fell into the hands of hobgoblins, and thanks to their depredations soon absorbed enough souls to waken again. Then it crossed your path. I think something more sinister is at work here, and it’s manipulating events to ensure that a val’Abebi wields Fleshripper.”
“This artifact-hunting, it’s an obsession, dad.” Kham patted the hilt of Fleshripper like an old friend. “I never understood it. Never. Neither did mom.”
“Oh, yes she did,” said Corinalous softly. “Only too well. She never approved of my adventures, but I thought training you as a librarian would better suit your temperament and hers…”
“It didn’t work, dad.” Kham turned away. “It didn’t work for Lucius either.”
“No,” said Corinalous with a sad smile. “It didn’t seem to take. And here we are, twenty years later in Freeport. I never thought you’d run off to join the pirates.”
“I’m not a pirate, dad.” Kham bit his lip. “But what did you expect? That’s all you ever talked about.”
“I don’t deny it. For the past thirty years, I’ve read almost everything I could get my hands on about piracy, from the escapades of Drac and Francisco to their predecessor, Jarl One-Eye. That’s why I came to Freeport. I received a letter from an old friend, Flint. He had found a weathered map that appeared to lead to untold treasures. From his description and my long studies, I knew it could be only one thing—the map to legendary R’lyeh.”
“I remember,” said Kham. “You always talked about finding that island. It only appears once every couple of hundred years, right?”
R’lyeh had been the subject of sailors’ tales for well over a hundred years: a fabulous island that had ever been lost at sea on which the god, Yarris, placed vast amounts of treasure. Its beached had sand of gold dust, the trees flowered with pearls and diamonds, and the streams ran with the purest silver. Many men had sought R’lyeh, and they had met their doom in Hell’s Triangle in their search for it.
Corinalous nodded. “Maybe longer than that. It was that discovery, coupled with the fact that Lucius had returned to Freeport, that forced my hand; I had to go to Freeport, even if it meant putting you at risk.”
“But then you crossed Captain Baumann.”
“I was on my way to visit Judge McGowan when she attacked my ship and took me prisoner. I told her enough to save my life—that I had a secret that would lead her to great treasure. But I didn’t tell her the rest. I knew my life was forfeit as soon as I did, and I held out hopes my old friend Flint would find a way to rescue me.” Corinalous looked over at the urn containing Flint’s ashes. “Fortunately for me, you got to me first. Poor Flint.”
“I got suspicious when you didn’t respond to my sendings.”
Corinalous stroked his moustache. “Ah, the irony: the one time you contact me is when I’m not around.”
“Yeah, real ironic.” Kham sighed. “Listen, dad, why are you against Lucius being freed from The Tombs? He’ll die in there.”
“He’s a murderer,” said Corinalous. “Or at least, he was part of a murder. The domestic staff called for me on the night that Lucius’ father and sister was killed. The bodies were in the drawing room.”
“What happened to them?”
“Herbert Roby’s body had been entirely drained of blood, seemingly from a deep wound in the upper chest. No blood from the corpse was apparent. Georgina Roby had been attacked with a sharp instrument, perhaps a broad ax if wielded by one very strong or in a great passion.”
“That doesn’t prove that Lucius did anything.”
“Lucius was in the house during the murders. When I went upstairs to see him, Lucius declared that it was he who had killed his father and sister. He wouldn’t explain and was hysterical with grief—his sister’s fate appeared to affect him particularly. I could not equate Lucius with the murders, both from what I knew about him and from the manner of the deaths: there was no physical evidence linking him to the killings such as one would expect with such a bloody crime. Lucius was not held in custody for long, but he seemed a broken man. I had Lucius under confinement for some time, but at some point he disappeared and we lost track of him.”
“He was possessed by…something,” said Kham. “He went on a long voyage for years. I guess he started it with a murder. But he’s a good man, dad. He may be a little confused, but he doesn’t deserve to be sent to The Hulks. And for someone like him, that’s a death sentence.”
Corinalous nodded. “I know. But I fear he’s being manipulated by the same forces influencing the sword.” He was besieged by a violent bout of coughing. “And if it means people must die, so be it.”
Kham took a long drink. “You didn’t used to be this way.”
Corinalous stood up. “This is not one of those bedtime stories I used to tell you about pirates, son. This is deadly serious. Many lives are at stake. I’ve seen what the Brotherhood of the Yellow Sign can do—“
“So have I,” said Kham. “But that doesn’t—“
“I’m dying,” said Corinalous.
Kham clamped his jaw shut.
Corinalous walked over to Kham so he could look him in the eye. “Fleshripper is drawing on my soul, even now. If I die, nothing will hold it back from regaining its full evil might. Truth be told, I don’t mind if I die. I’ve lived a long life. But you…it will take you next. And that is simply…”
“Intolerable?” Kham finished for him. If his father was anything, he was predictable.
“Intolerable,” Corinalous said with a slow smile. “We’ve got stop Fleshripper before it takes you too. I discovered a ritual that will stop the curse and separate you from the blade, but I cannot do it alone.” He put one hand on Kham’s shoulder. “I’m sorry son, but this task falls to you. There is a grove of hills not far from Freeport, with a pure spring that should serve our purpose.”
Kham took a deep breath. “Okay, dad. Tell me what we need to do.”
“Gather your friends,” said Corinalous. “We must hurry, my mere presence is awakening the blade as it grows hungry.”
“This conversation isn’t over, dad,” said Kham. “This thing with Lucius…he’s running out of time.”
Corinalous tightened his grip on Kham’s shoulder. It was the most affection Kham had received from his father in years. “I’m hoping it’s just the beginning of many conversations. Let’s go.”
Kham was shown into a large drawing room, high ceilinged and comfortable with blue settees and a deep green carpet. There were several objects of art in evidence: a white ivory tusk with a circular procession of figures carved around its length and a brass polar bear lazing on a crystal ice floe to name two. Kham sat down on one of the settees.
Corinalous soon appeared. He looked very pale and drawn. He was a dark-skinned Altherian, with long white hair and moustache.
“Hi, dad.” Kham didn’t get up. “Long time, no see.”
Corinalous sat down on the other settee. “I wanted to speak with you first before I spoke to your friends.”
“Do you remember the last time we had a quiet drink?” Kham poured two glasses of wine from a carafe.
Corinalous took the offered glass. “Hmm…what did we talk about?”
“We didn’t talk,” said Kham. He took a sip. “We never talked.”
“And do I detect a rebuke?”
“A regret. It was just the two of us, dad. It was a lonely way to grow up. For you, too. If you had been an ordinary, average father like the other guys' dads, you'd have understood that.“
“Actually, I was a wonderful father."
“When?"
“Did I ever tell you to eat up? Go to bed? Wash your ears? Do your homework? No. I respected your privacy and I taught you self-reliance."
“What you taught me was that I was less important to you than the Emerald Society; less important than people who had been dead for five hundred years in another country. And I learned it so well that we've hardly spoken for twenty years."
“Kham, it’s true, I’ve stayed away from Freeport ever since I discovered you had made it his base of operations.”
“Why?”
“I’ve never been totally truthful with you, son.” He nodded towards the huge sword that was never far from Kham’s side. “That…thing and I were acquainted before. And I knew I had to get it as far away from you as I possibly could.”
“That’s why you were always gone? Because of a stupid sword?”
“Fleshripper’s not just a sword, son.” Corinalous’ gaze fixed on Kham. “You can feel it already, can’t you? It’s like a leech in your soul, drawing out your life; and yet you cannot bear to be parted from it. I thought that I could control it too. After much research, it became clear that there was only one thing I could do: I used an ancient ritual to bind my life force to the sword. After that, it could no longer steal the souls of its victims, and it could no longer exert its will so easily on its wielder. But I was wrong. The sword has a great power, one I could not contain. It slowly draws upon the soul of its wielder, until eventually that soul is consumed by the sword as well. You’ve probably felt that pull before, and I imagine it’s stronger now.”
Kham nodded, wordlessly. It was almost unbearable, the urge to kill his own father.
“My proximity to the blade is doubtless causing it to stir, and it is that reason the Emerald Society has not stepped in until now, as per my wishes. I am sorry I had to cause you so much pain, son, but it was the only thing I could do until I figured out how to defeat the cursed blade once and for all.”
“That explains why all my requests to have Fleshripper examined were denied.” Kham took another swig. “It doesn’t explain how the sword ended up in my hands though.”
“I hid the sword away in a secret location, hoping it would lay undisturbed until I found a way to destroy it permanently. But the sword had different plans. It fell into the hands of hobgoblins, and thanks to their depredations soon absorbed enough souls to waken again. Then it crossed your path. I think something more sinister is at work here, and it’s manipulating events to ensure that a val’Abebi wields Fleshripper.”
“This artifact-hunting, it’s an obsession, dad.” Kham patted the hilt of Fleshripper like an old friend. “I never understood it. Never. Neither did mom.”
“Oh, yes she did,” said Corinalous softly. “Only too well. She never approved of my adventures, but I thought training you as a librarian would better suit your temperament and hers…”
“It didn’t work, dad.” Kham turned away. “It didn’t work for Lucius either.”
“No,” said Corinalous with a sad smile. “It didn’t seem to take. And here we are, twenty years later in Freeport. I never thought you’d run off to join the pirates.”
“I’m not a pirate, dad.” Kham bit his lip. “But what did you expect? That’s all you ever talked about.”
“I don’t deny it. For the past thirty years, I’ve read almost everything I could get my hands on about piracy, from the escapades of Drac and Francisco to their predecessor, Jarl One-Eye. That’s why I came to Freeport. I received a letter from an old friend, Flint. He had found a weathered map that appeared to lead to untold treasures. From his description and my long studies, I knew it could be only one thing—the map to legendary R’lyeh.”
“I remember,” said Kham. “You always talked about finding that island. It only appears once every couple of hundred years, right?”
R’lyeh had been the subject of sailors’ tales for well over a hundred years: a fabulous island that had ever been lost at sea on which the god, Yarris, placed vast amounts of treasure. Its beached had sand of gold dust, the trees flowered with pearls and diamonds, and the streams ran with the purest silver. Many men had sought R’lyeh, and they had met their doom in Hell’s Triangle in their search for it.
Corinalous nodded. “Maybe longer than that. It was that discovery, coupled with the fact that Lucius had returned to Freeport, that forced my hand; I had to go to Freeport, even if it meant putting you at risk.”
“But then you crossed Captain Baumann.”
“I was on my way to visit Judge McGowan when she attacked my ship and took me prisoner. I told her enough to save my life—that I had a secret that would lead her to great treasure. But I didn’t tell her the rest. I knew my life was forfeit as soon as I did, and I held out hopes my old friend Flint would find a way to rescue me.” Corinalous looked over at the urn containing Flint’s ashes. “Fortunately for me, you got to me first. Poor Flint.”
“I got suspicious when you didn’t respond to my sendings.”
Corinalous stroked his moustache. “Ah, the irony: the one time you contact me is when I’m not around.”
“Yeah, real ironic.” Kham sighed. “Listen, dad, why are you against Lucius being freed from The Tombs? He’ll die in there.”
“He’s a murderer,” said Corinalous. “Or at least, he was part of a murder. The domestic staff called for me on the night that Lucius’ father and sister was killed. The bodies were in the drawing room.”
“What happened to them?”
“Herbert Roby’s body had been entirely drained of blood, seemingly from a deep wound in the upper chest. No blood from the corpse was apparent. Georgina Roby had been attacked with a sharp instrument, perhaps a broad ax if wielded by one very strong or in a great passion.”
“That doesn’t prove that Lucius did anything.”
“Lucius was in the house during the murders. When I went upstairs to see him, Lucius declared that it was he who had killed his father and sister. He wouldn’t explain and was hysterical with grief—his sister’s fate appeared to affect him particularly. I could not equate Lucius with the murders, both from what I knew about him and from the manner of the deaths: there was no physical evidence linking him to the killings such as one would expect with such a bloody crime. Lucius was not held in custody for long, but he seemed a broken man. I had Lucius under confinement for some time, but at some point he disappeared and we lost track of him.”
“He was possessed by…something,” said Kham. “He went on a long voyage for years. I guess he started it with a murder. But he’s a good man, dad. He may be a little confused, but he doesn’t deserve to be sent to The Hulks. And for someone like him, that’s a death sentence.”
Corinalous nodded. “I know. But I fear he’s being manipulated by the same forces influencing the sword.” He was besieged by a violent bout of coughing. “And if it means people must die, so be it.”
Kham took a long drink. “You didn’t used to be this way.”
Corinalous stood up. “This is not one of those bedtime stories I used to tell you about pirates, son. This is deadly serious. Many lives are at stake. I’ve seen what the Brotherhood of the Yellow Sign can do—“
“So have I,” said Kham. “But that doesn’t—“
“I’m dying,” said Corinalous.
Kham clamped his jaw shut.
Corinalous walked over to Kham so he could look him in the eye. “Fleshripper is drawing on my soul, even now. If I die, nothing will hold it back from regaining its full evil might. Truth be told, I don’t mind if I die. I’ve lived a long life. But you…it will take you next. And that is simply…”
“Intolerable?” Kham finished for him. If his father was anything, he was predictable.
“Intolerable,” Corinalous said with a slow smile. “We’ve got stop Fleshripper before it takes you too. I discovered a ritual that will stop the curse and separate you from the blade, but I cannot do it alone.” He put one hand on Kham’s shoulder. “I’m sorry son, but this task falls to you. There is a grove of hills not far from Freeport, with a pure spring that should serve our purpose.”
Kham took a deep breath. “Okay, dad. Tell me what we need to do.”
“Gather your friends,” said Corinalous. “We must hurry, my mere presence is awakening the blade as it grows hungry.”
“This conversation isn’t over, dad,” said Kham. “This thing with Lucius…he’s running out of time.”
Corinalous tightened his grip on Kham’s shoulder. It was the most affection Kham had received from his father in years. “I’m hoping it’s just the beginning of many conversations. Let’s go.”