WeatherMaker Hearts Desire Prologue

Arlen stormed forwards through the crowd. The soldiers either side of him parted to let him pass; and he stepped forward into the open space to face the commotion.

‘What is the meaning of this?’ he demanded, seeing what was before him. ‘Put your weapons down’ he ordered the soldiers. ‘Now!’

The soldiers that had been surrounding the two figures, keeping them in place with their swords and spears pointed towards them, backed down on his command, but they did not break the circle they held to trap the figures in place.

One of the figures was a young woman, perhaps about nineteen or twenty in age. She had blonde hair, short and scruffy; it looked as if she had cut it herself. She was very slender, and pale, looking as if she had not eaten properly in days, and she had signs of torture shown clearly on her body. Across her bare shoulders and arms, could be seen scars, cuts and burns, and sections where the skin looked as if it had been peeled away. She glared at Arlen, and at all the men around them, with a look of hatred and anger in her eyes.

Her companion, a male figure, taller and muscular, stood by her side. Unlike the young woman, he looked fit and healthy as he towered over her. In his hand he held a sword, lifted high. He stood close to the woman by his side, glancing constantly at her, then back at the men that surrounded them, before glancing at her again.

Arlen had the sudden impression that the two meant a lot to one another, perhaps they shared a history.

‘I said put your weapons down’ Arlen ordered his soldiers. ‘Don’t make me say it again!’

The young woman turned towards him, hissing as the surrounding men obeyed his command.

‘Are you in charge then?’ she spat at him. ‘Let us go’ she demanded. ’I will give you nothing.’

‘I’m sorry’ Arlen spoke kindly to her, raising his hands in submission. ‘We mean you no harm. We are on a quest to find a Weather Maker.’

Her demeanour changed. It was only subtle, and Arlen would have missed it had he not been watching her closely. But he saw it. He saw the slight frown, the way her cheek had twitched, and how her body had relaxed, ever so slightly.

The male companion beside her cast her a glance. He was silent, as he held the sword still raised.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ the woman said to him.

‘Reports tell me that you have killed three of my men’ Arlen said calmly. ‘I don’t mean to harm you. I only want to know the truth.’

‘There was something wrong with them if they allowed themselves to be killed by a girl’ she snarled at him.

‘My men said they were turned inside out’ Arlen said calmly to her. ‘That is a particularly nasty power. I am somewhat familiar with Weather Makers. Come on. Let’s not play this game. I know what you are.’

’You will get…nothing from me’ the woman hissed.

‘At least tell me your name’ Arlen said patiently.

’Nothing!’

Arlen let out an exasperated sigh.

‘I need your help’ he said, trying one last time. ’My daughter is a Weather Maker, and has been kidnapped by the king. We found you only because we were looking for her. Please. Is there anything you can tell me that may be of some help?’

She bared her teeth at him,

‘Let me go’ the woman ordered him. ‘I would rather die than be imprisoned.’

Beside the woman, her silent guardian glared at Arlen, tightening his grip slightly on the hilt of his sword.

Arlen let out another sigh, his shoulders sagging in disappointment.

He stood on the hilltop of their camp minutes later, watching the young Weather Maker and her mysterious, silent guardian walk quickly away, moments later swallowed by the trees that grew nearby.

‘Do you think she knew anything?’ one of the soldiers asked beside him.

‘Who knows?’ Arlen mumbled. ‘Maybe she did.’

‘We should have pressed her’ the soldier said firmly.

‘No’ Arlen shook his head. ‘Did you see her? No’ he said again. ‘She would never have told us either way.’

The soldier looked past Arlen, towards the forest the pair had slipped into.

‘You think she escaped from the king’s prisons?’ the soldier asked.

‘It’s most likely’ Arlen replied.

The soldier sighed then. ‘I wonder how the others are doing.’

Annabel stumbled forwards. The shackles around her wrists were tight and hurt her; though she was grateful she did not have shackles around her ankles too, like some of the others did.

The man holding the other end of the chain the shackles were attached to jerked on them again, pulling her towards him as he strode forwards.

‘Keep up’ the guard snapped back at her without bothering to turn.

Annabel glanced about the narrow corridor at the walls around her. It was a dim place she had found herself in. The burning torches held on brackets on the wall showed her the flickering scenes of horrible things. The place was so overcrowded, there were even some imprisoned in the corridors themselves. Some in cages, others with their arms and legs chained and simply left to sleep and waste away on the solid stone floor, some with bags over their heads so they could not see, which only added to their already heightened fear.

Annabel stumbled again.

‘If I have to tell you one more time I shall kill you myself’ the guard snapped again, this time pausing to glare at her.

Annabel avoided his gaze, instead looking down at her feet, like so many of the submissive and fearful people imprisoned around her had adopted as habit. But he need not carry out this threat, for they had arrived where the guard had intended.

At the end of the corridor, was a heavy door with rusted metal studs set in the wood, and a small window at head height that from the other side could be opened and closed by a sliding panel. The guard knocked on the door and waited. Seconds later, the panel slid across and a face appeared.

The panel closed again; there was another pause, and the sound of a bolt sliding across was heard.

The door swung open.

‘Come in’ said an elder voice; and Annabel was dragged forwards again and into room.

Taking in her surroundings briefly she saw it was an office of some sorts, and not a pleasant one at that. Amongst the various torture devices displayed around the room were bookshelves and cupboards, even a drinks cabinet. There was a heavy desk set against the wall at one end, a tall backed chair, and many burning candles to keep the darkness as bay, as there were no windows.

‘Now what problems do you present me with today’ the elder gentleman asked the guard curtly.

The elder gentleman who had spoken must have been in his forties or thereabouts, rugged, a little worn with some scaring about his face. He dressed well, but at a glance, Annabel saw no keys visible on him, just a bulge at his chest where they might have been. He wore a high necked shirt Annabel noted, and chainmail. Annabel recognised him as the guards master.

‘This one has been causing trouble with the others’ the guard told him.

‘Well’ the guards master replied looking her Annabel, ‘of course she would cause trouble. It’s not often we get women here. Half of the men here are rapists, the other half would happily beat a sick child if they could. Did you put her in a separate cell? Or at least segregate her?’

‘We’ve not the space sir’ the guard answered back.

‘You could have at least chained her up outside somewhere.’

‘Nowhere available at the moment sir.’

The guards master sighed wearily, as if this were all a great burden for him.

‘It matters not’ he said at last. ‘We’re having a clear out soon anyway. We will have cells to spare then. What is your crime?’ he spoke to Annabel.

Annabel glanced towards him cautiously, but did not speak.

‘The master asked you a question’ the guard growled viciously before backhanding her hard.

Annabel stumbled again, but once again was pulled back by the guard that held the end of the chain.

The guards master held a hand carefully up to the guard, giving him a warning through his eyes. The guard stepped back, but continued to hold the chain tightly.

‘I asked you a question’ the guards master said to her. ‘Do not make me repeat it.’

‘B-blasphemy’ Annabel began.

‘Hmph’ he replied, stepping away and turning his back on her. ‘Funny’ he said.

‘Sir?’ the guard spoke up uncertainly.

‘Funny I said’ the guards master repeated. ‘It’s funny how you could be imprisoned simply for speaking a few words.’

‘Dangerous words’ the guard shot a glare at Annabel before hitting her again.

Annabel fell to the floor this time as he knees gave way.

The guard kicked her while she was down, once….twice….his metal-tipped boots driving painfully into her.

‘Enough’ the guards master spoke lazily.

‘Sorry sir’ the guard said straightening up, ‘got a bit carried away.’ He immediately glared at Annabel again. ‘The witch should be burned.’

‘You take too much pleasure in this’ the guards master noted. ‘Get her up.’

Annabel tensed as the guard grabbed her roughly, hauling her to her feet. Annabel groaned in pain, hunched over and hugging her belly where she had been kicked.

‘Take her shackles off.’

‘Sir?’

‘Do, don’t ask’ the guards master said briskly. ‘You know how much I hate repeating myself.’

The guard grumbled under his breath as he did what he was told, stepping back when he was done and falling silent.

‘What is your name?’ the guards master asked.

‘Annabel…’

‘Speak up’ the master said loudly. ‘You are not a mouse.’

‘Annabel’ she said clearer now.

‘Nice name. You may leave us now’ he said to the guard.

‘But sir…!’

‘But what?’ the guards master answered back. ‘I gave you an order.’

‘But she’s…’

‘Dangerous?’ the guards master asked.

‘Untrustworthy’ the guard finished. ‘She will stab you in the back at the first chance she gets. Don’t let her deceive you.’

‘You think I can’t handle an unarmed girl?’ the guards master sneered. ‘You insult me. Get out of my sight.’

The guard fumbled, stammered a few inaudible words, before nodding his head and leaving swiftly, cursing and muttering under his breath.

‘What a tedious man’ the master sighed once the guard had gone. ‘I find him most tiresome, most tiresome indeed.’

He looked to Annabel, who stared away from him at the floor in the corner of the room.

‘You are not a servant’ the man told her. ‘You can look at me.’

Annabel turned her head towards him, meeting his gaze.

The guards master leant back against his desk, eyes travelling up and down her body.

He reached for a bottle nearby and poured the liquid into a glass.

Annabel immediately drew a sharp breath as he approached her.

‘I’m not going to hurt you’ the guards master said handing her the glass. ‘Please, drink this.’

Annabel did as she was told, the wine that ran down her throat was cool and refreshing.

‘I would say that I hope the others have treated you well’ he said taking the glass back from her. ‘But I know that would not be the case. I just hope they did not treat you too harshly.’

He moved closer to her, lifting her chin and looking into her face. She had a swollen lip and a black eye.

‘Hmm. I suppose I shouldn’t expect any less.’ He moved back, leaning on his desk once more. ‘You’re not from around here are you?’ he said. ‘You have a foreign look about you.’

‘I…travelled here on a ship across the sea…with…some people….’ She said. ‘I was taken from my home….and…..’

‘You’re not familiar with our customs’ the man said. ‘The people here are very protective of their beliefs. Some suffer horrible deaths just for not believing. But don’t worry. You’re safe now.’

‘I…’ Annabel said. ‘I wish to see the sun. I have been underground in the dark for such a long time.’

‘It will be done’ the guards master waved casually at her. ‘We have a garden here, a beautiful one at that.’

‘You do?’

‘Of course’ he nodded. ‘Many of us spend a long time working here; some of the guards even live here. We grown our own food, and when he have time to spare, we even grow flowers.’

‘I would love to see these flowers.’

‘Then follow me’ the guards master said straightening.

The garden was a pleasant enough experience, at least compared to the dank and overcrowded cell she had come from, it was a small paradise that grew in the centre of the prison.

The two walked slowly through the walled garden, though Annabel couldn’t help noticing the many figures standing in the arches around them. There were armed soldiers on foot at ground level, and in the windows higher up, guards carrying crossbows loaded ready to fire.

‘This is a nice place’ Annabel commented, facing the guards master again.

‘I’m glad you like it’ he replied. ‘I come here often to collect my thoughts, especially on days like today when the sun is so beautiful. It helps our fruit and vegetables grow large and healthy.’

He picked an orange from a nearby tree, reaching his hand out towards her, offering Annabel the fruit.

‘Keep it’ Annabel said. ‘You will need it more than I do.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I need more than that to get my strength back’ Annabel replied. ‘That right there’ she indicated the orange in his hand, ‘could be the last meal you ever have.’

A silence passed between them.

‘What?’ the guards master answered shortly.

‘I want you to call all your men down here.’

‘And why would I do that?’ he asked her, sounding amused now.

He lowered his hand. The orange fell from his fingers as he stared at her with a fixed expression.

Annabel in her head considered her options, though she dared not make a sudden move.

She giggled, showing her hands in submission. Annabel glided slowly towards him then with confidence, making sure he saw exactly what she was doing, smiling seductively as she moved closer; their faces inches apart. Her hand unseen slipped into his coat.

‘I know I have no power over you’ she purred to him. ’I know you can do whatever you want with me. But could you do me one small favour and turn around…please?’

‘What is your plan?’ he asked her, though his voice was gentler than before.

‘That would spoil the secret’ she said. ’It would spoil the fun.’

He grinned hungrily at her then, stepping back and turning around.

As soon as his back was turned, Annabel grabbed him roughly, holding him around the body with one hand, and with the other, she held to his throat the knife she had slipped from his coat. She pulled him towards her, backing herself against the orange tree behind to give her some protection.

‘What are you doing?’ the guards master said in shock now. Clearly this was the last thing he had expected.

‘I want you to call all your men down here’ Annabel repeated, speaking in a harsh voice as she held him tight. ’All of them.’

‘That is against protocol’ he answered evenly back. ‘Even if I ordered them to do it, they would not be allowed. I have men higher above even me you know.’

‘Then call who will come.’

‘No need’ the guards master answered, his body thoroughly relaxed. ‘They are already on their way.’

And it was true, the many guards on foot had rushed forwards into the garden to defend their master, and more were coming behind them. Annabel counted about fifty, and that didn’t include the archers in the windows above them. They had stayed firmly put, but now they had their crossbows aimed at her. They wouldn’t shoot though, not yet anyway, for fear of hitting the guards master.

I should have known Annabel thought. She cursed to herself, looking back to the grounds around her at the men that surrounded. No matter. I think I could still manage.

‘I must say’ the guards master began. ‘This has never happened before. What are you going to do now?’

‘Shut up I’m thinking’ Annabel shot back.

‘No’ the man replied quickly. ‘I’m done with these games, though they’ve been fun.’

He jerked his head back sharply and without warning, head butting Annabel right on the nose. The guards master turned on her in one swift movement the second her hold on him had weakened, snatching the knife from her hand in one easy sweep.

He threw it up in the air and caught it several times, watching her with amusement as she clutched her bleeding nose.

‘Now what were you thinking?’ he asked her. ‘You think you could really subdue me, a little girl against a fully grown man?’

‘I’m not a little girl’ Annabel said into her hands.

‘What do you plan to do now?’

’To ask you….no…order you to hand over your keys and release the prisoners’ Annabel answered quickly back.

The guards master threw his head back, roaring with laughter.

‘You are a funny one’ he hollered. ’Here you stand surrounded by men that will kill you the instant I give the signal, and yet you try to order me to do….what was it…..release the prisoners? Now why would you want a thing like that?’ he sheathed his knife, narrowing his eyes curiously at her. ‘What on earth are you thinking?’

‘You’ll find out’ Annabel replied, holding her bleeding nose. She straightened up, facing him properly now, fresh blood smeared on her hands and face. ‘That really hurt.’

‘Good.’

‘Hand over the keys’ Annabel indicated the bulge on his chest beneath his shirt that was roughly key-shaped. ‘Now please.’

‘I should throw you back in that filthy cell with all the rapists, see how you feel about things then, and you could reflect on your stupidity while you’re being torn to shreds.’

Annabel sighed deeply, not at all intimidated by his threats. ‘This has been very sloppily done’ she said to herself, taking in her surroundings. ‘Oh well’ she shrugged. ‘Next time….’

She took a deep and steady breath.

Suddenly out of the ground at the guards master’s feet, roots and thick vines shot out and wrapped themselves around his legs, pinning him in place, causing him to cry out in alarm.

’Hand over the fucking keys!’ Annabel screamed at him holding her hand out.

He didn’t hesitate now in doing so, and as Annabel snatched them from him, shouts came from all around them from the guards that surrounded.

‘Witch!’

‘Sorcery!’

‘Magic!’

The guards with the crossbows in the windows above them were hollering also, lifting their weapons and aiming.

‘If they shoot me you die’ Annabel told the guards master calmly. ‘Tell them to lower their weapons.’

The guards master snarled at her, regaining himself enough from the shock to begin to feel anger towards her. He turned around at much as he could with his legs pinned in place.

‘Don’t shoot’ he called reluctantly. ‘Everyone back down!’

The guards each took small steps back, and the crossbowman lowered their weapons slightly, but none relaxed.

‘Your man was right by the way’ Annabel told him. ‘You shouldn’t have trusted me.’ She spoke then to the nearest guard. ‘You! Take these keys and free the prisoners in the cell opposite the one I was kept in. You know which one that is?’

The guard hesitated. The guards master explained briefly which cell she meant and the guard nodded, understanding clearer now.

Annabel threw the keys to him so he would not have to come close to her. She waited for him to return.

Less than a minute later he did so, surrounded by a group of men and looking extremely uncomfortable. Annabel nodded acknowledgement to the small group of former prisoners; and to one in particular who was most familiar to her. Shawn who stood amongst them. But they did not enter the garden, not yet.

‘Now what?!’ the guards master demanded exasperated. ‘What on earth are you trying to accomplish here?’

Annabel spared him knowing smile, before finishing what she started.

The guards master could only watch helplessly as terror and confusion was sown in the garden, as all the plants and trees thrashed around as if they had minds of their own.

It was like a nightmare. Huge roots shot up from the earth and slammed into bodies, grabbing individual men and hurling them into the air or against the solid stone walls, breaking their bones on impact. Even the archers in the windows were not safe, and could only scream and cry in horror as one by one they were slain. Great twisting vines shot out at them from all around, grabbing them around the torso and tightening until they suffocated. Or simply entering their mouths and growing straight into their lungs, where they blossomed into large flowers.

The entire garden moved as if in a powerful hurricane, but the only wind that was created in the walled garden in the centre of the prison, was that created by the living plants themselves as they whipped around.

When it was all over mere seconds later, the garden returned to its peaceful state as if nothing had happened, leaving behind it blood and carnage. Broken bodies and death were everywhere.

The guards master froze as he saw the dead men all around him; he was suddenly speechless and pale as snow.

As soon as it was all over, Shawn, who had remained silently watching at the edge of the garden alongside the other former prisoners, ran towards Annabel. Behind him, Carrot and Flute Stick followed after. Carrot quickly grabbed the last guard that remained alive, the one that had let them out of their cell, and held him tightly around the neck until he stopped moving. The other men who had been freed wandered forwards aimlessly, staring at the scene around them in shock and disbelief.

‘Annabel!’ Shawn said when he reached her. ‘Are you alright? I was so worried!’

He cupped her face as he spoke, fussing over her injuries. The blood had stemmed its flow on her face, but she was still covered in it.

‘I’m fine’ Annabel smiled encouragingly back. ‘I’m sure though….you’ve seen me looking better.’

‘I’m sorry we had to put you through this.’

‘It’s fine already’ Annabel said wearily. ‘I told you several times I agreed to this.’

‘But still…’

‘Shush’ she told him sternly.

They both turned their attention then onto the guards master, the only one remaining who was not among them.

‘What should we do with him?’ Annabel asked Shawn, watching the guards master who was now too shocked to be able to speak.

‘We should kill him. It’s not safe to let him live, especially since he’s seen you use your powers.’

‘I suppose’ Annabel hummed. ‘Still. He was good to me. Of a sorts.’

‘His intentions were still wicked’ Shawn replied coldly.

‘Do you want me to do it?’ Flute Stick asked them, appearing at their sides.

‘If you don’t mind’ Shawn said. ‘Carrot’ he said to him. ‘Why don’t you free the other prisoners?’

‘Are you still sure this is all a good idea?’ Annabel asked Shawn as Carrot ran off to free the others, and Flute Stick began to slowly strangle the unfortunate guards master beside them. ‘The guards master said they were all bad people’ Annabel continued as she watched the man die.

‘I’m sure we’ve been through this’ Shawn told her. ‘We need men enough to fight the king and save Amaia. Some here will be bad, but it’s like you said, if in this country they are happy to imprison a woman just for voicing an opinion that doesn’t sit well with others and force her to suffer for it….well….I bet half the people here at least are innocent.’

‘I suppose you’re right’ Annabel said turning away from him. ‘I just can’t wait to sleep somewhere decent tonight. I’m desperate for a bath.’

‘Me too’ Shawn agreed.

‘This is all very impressive by the way’ Flute Stick butted in as he surveyed the scene around them, after he had strangled and thrown the now dead guards master to the floor.

All the earth and plants had returned to normal, and it looked like the garden had not been disturbed in any way. Besides from the bodies, everything looked in place.

‘Yes’ Annabel said to Flute Stick. ‘But I’ve never used my powers like this before. It feels…strange….good even. I didn’t know I was capable of such things.’

‘In years to come’ Shawn shot her a sideways glance, ‘your powers could become even stronger.’

‘With practice’ she smiled at him.

‘Come on’ Shawn said to them. ‘We should look around.’

The last few remaining guards were quickly delt with by the freed prisoners, and Shawn, Annabel and Flute Stick were free to wander as they pleased.

The whole place, with the exception of where the guards ate and slept, were miserable places to be, all lacking sunlight. But the last place they came to was the worst of all. The living quarters of the guards master.

Inside the room was spacious and beautifully decorated. But the image was destroyed by the bodies of women that were scattered around the room. Some partially dressed, some completely naked. One rested on her knees upon a table, her arms above her head, she was held up by her wrists by chains that hung from the ceiling. Protruding from her body were several crossbow bolts.

Another was tied to the bed by her wrists and ankles. It was unclear at a glance how she had died.

And three were sitting in a wooden bath, the water now cold, with slit throats and wrists. The water was red.

‘Gods…’ Shawn whispered, covering his nose and mouth.

‘I’ve seen worse’ Flute Stick commented offhandedly behind him.

‘Maybe you should be somewhere else’ Shawn quickly said to Annabel.

‘I’m not a child’ she snapped angrily at him. She approached the kneeling woman on the table, staring at her closely. ‘Its…’ she began.

‘Thinking the same thing as I am?’ Flute Stick asked coming to stand beside her. ‘All the bolts avoid vital organs. This poor girl was made to suffer, for a while by the look of it.’

‘We should burry them’ Shawn told them.

‘You’re probably right’ Annabel turned her back on the kneeling woman. ‘This must have been so horrible for them.’

‘It’s alright’ Flute Stick said untying the naked woman on the bed. ‘They are at peace now.’

‘I wasn’t expecting this’ Annabel said.

‘I have learnt through my years’ Flute Stick said lifting the dead woman in his arms, ‘that the most evil people hide amongst us, and do so well. They could be your neighbour, that person down the road who sells you bread, even your own children.’

Annabel scratched her sweaty palms without realising she was doing it.

‘Are you going to help?’ Flute Stick asked her, as Shawn behind her lifted one of the woman from the red bath.

‘I think they would be too heavy for me to carry……’ as she spoke this, she seemed to hesitate at her own words.

‘Fine’ Flute Stick told her. ‘That’s fine. Just get the door for me at least.’

As they made their way back to the garden to bury the women, they found by that time all of the prisoners had been freed. There were hundreds of them, they crammed the tiny space in the garden, at the doorways around the edges and at the windows above them, all looking down at the centre where stood a man. Adam was his name. He was one of the men they had found some months ago who had, along with many others they had gathered in that time, agreed to join them in their cause to fight against the king. He had done so because of some punishment he had suffered on the kings orders, despite his previous years of service, despite the fact he claimed innocence. That is why he turned against the king now.

He gave a speech to the prisoners around him, standing on a chair that had been brought out for him; he was elevated above the others, speaking out of what they did today and why, and what they wanted in return. His speech was interrupted however by a cry from one of the men in the balcony above them. The man ran to the lower level and pushed his way through the others to reach Shawn who carried the dead woman from the bath. Sobbing hysterically and holding her face, the man wailed in despair, cursing the gods, cursing all men and cursing himself.

Annabel nearby did not watch, instead ordered the other men around to keep back and keep their distance. They obeyed.

The man was calmed, the women were buried; all of them, and Adam continued explaining their situation to listening ears, finishing by telling all the men, that those who wished to leave, could do so of their own free will. Many were listed criminals, and if they stayed in their homeland would be recaptured and punished for sure, but were free to leave if they wished. By the end of the day, only about half the men freed from their cells had chosen to stay. The other half had wandered and dissipated, never to be seen again.

‘Well’ Carrot said, flicking back his red hair as he counted the men that had remained. ‘It could have been better.’

‘It could have been worse’ Flute Stick added.

The prison was abandoned, and the long journey to the coast on foot began. When they reached the ship that was waiting for them at the harbour, they found there was not enough space on the ship for all the men.

‘I will stay here’ Adam offered. ‘I will find another ship and follow you with the others when I can.’

‘Are you going to be alright?’ Shawn asked him.

‘I’ll manage’ Adam replied drying. ‘Don’t worry about me.’

He grasped Shawn by the wrist, patting his shoulder roughly.

‘Now go. Take who you can and get out of these dreadful lands and I will do the same.’

‘I’ll see you at home’ Shawn nodded, ‘when we reach our own soil.’

‘I will count down the days’ Adam said letting go of him. ‘Now get a move on.’

Shawn, Flute Stick, Carrot, Annabel and all those they could fit on their waiting boat, boarded and set sail.

Shawn watched from the rear of the ship as Adam’s profile grew smaller and smaller the greater distance grew between them. Eventually he grew tired, and descended into the belly of the ship to get what rest he could in this rocking world.

He was woken sometime later, by the sound of a violin playing. It was night time by then, and when he entered onto the deck of the ship, he saw the sky above him was blue and the clouds dark. The wind was faint, and the only sound besides the melody that had woken him, was the sound of the canvas sails waving in the breeze as they hung from the spar above him.

The tune that came to him now was a heart-wrenchingly sad melody, but at the same time it was beautiful. The high pitched notes played eerily on the night, and as Shawn approached the source of the music, he saw Annabel, sitting against the foremast, the blue light of the night’s sky shining down upon her. For a moment, it took his breath away.

Annabel lowered her violin when she had finished, lifting her head towards Shawn. He went to sit next to her, glancing down at the instrument in her hands. It had been a gift he had bought for her some months ago, ever since he had heard her play for the first time before the gypsies, he had wanted to buy one for her.

‘That was beautiful’ he said.

She smiled silently at him, running her fingers over the smooth shining wood. It was not a standard violin she owned, Shawn had chosen it because of its unusual colour. It was painted a deep and beautiful blue.

‘That was a close call for you earlier in the prison. I hope you weren’t too scared by it all.’

‘I will manage.’ Annabel faced him properly. ‘We knew it would work though didn’t we? We knew he had a weak spot for women, we spent a long time after all gathering information before attempting what we did.’

‘Even so, I fear it could have gone much worse. For all the information we collected and we didn’t know….well….’ he broke off. ‘That is best forgotten about.’

‘Those women…’ Annabel began, ‘…no’ she finished. ‘There is nothing I can say to soften it. They all suffered horribly and probably didn’t deserve it.’ She lifted her violin as if intending to begin playing again. ‘They were probably all good people’ she mumbled then pausing. ‘Some might even have had children.’

‘You’ve changed you know’ Shawn said to her, ‘since I first met you.’

‘As have you.’

‘You’ve changed more.’

‘Well. I was never a soldier like you were. I hardly left my village. Seeing the world….I’ve always wanted it, but never imagined it would be quite like this. Some parts yes have been horrible, but….I feel I have learnt so much since I left my home. I don’t necessarily regret leaving, though the circumstances…’ she bit her lip. ‘I wish I could have said goodbye to my parents.’

She lowered her violin again, casting her eyes out towards the sea.

‘When was the last time you saw your family?’ Annabel said to him.

‘It’s been over ten months now. Why do you ask?’

‘Do you think I could see my own family soon?’

‘I don’t think that would be a very good idea. I think it would still be too dangerous, with everything that’s been happening. You might put them in harm’s way.’

‘Is that why you haven’t seen your own family for so long?’

‘No’ Shawn spoke slowly. ‘I’ve just….never gone back there…I haven’t had the opportunity to see them.’

‘Do you think they’re worried about you?’

‘Probably’ he shrugged. ‘I’m sorry, but you can’t see your own family because of what you are. The king is hunting down Weather Makers, and if you try to make contact with them, especially now…’ he broke off. ‘You wouldn’t want them to suffer for it.’

‘Perhaps you’re right’ Annabel sighed. ‘I just miss them so much.’

‘I know’ Shawn nodded. ‘I miss my own family too.’

She leant back. ‘I often wonder what they’re doing. At this very moment…’ Annabel thought aloud, ‘in the evenings my mother likes to stitch. My father likes to read. He has many books; he can’t get enough of them. I never picked up that trait from him myself. I had other interests.’ Annabel fell silent for a moment. ‘Come to think of it, I am not much like my parents at all.’

‘We are not always like our parents.’

‘Are you like your parents?’

‘I…’ Shawn began. ‘I am more like my father was.’

‘What was he like?’

‘He was…brave’ Shawn nodded. ‘A good man. Kind……and a good father. I miss him terribly.’

Annabel smiled sadly at him.

‘It would have been nice to have known him’ she began. ‘I think…’

But she was suddenly cut off then by the sound of a scream of terror coming from the lower deck. Annabel and Shawn both instantly tensed.

Shawn rose to his feet and ran towards the source of the noise, behind him Annabel stood, but remained where she was, holding the neck of her violin with both hands anxiously.

Within the ships sleeping quarters, Shawn found Carrot screaming and thrashing around in panic in his hammock.

‘No please not again! Get away from me!’

‘CAM!’ Flute Stick was shouting as he shook him. ‘Cam! It’s alright you’re safe!’

Carrot fell back in his hammock gasping and shaking violently.

‘Oh god….thank god…’ he placed a hand over his face. ‘It seemed so real….’

‘I know’ Flute Stick comforted, his voice gentler now. ‘We’re safe, we’re both safe. Just…try to get back to sleep.’

Carrot rolled over on his side, taking a deep and steady breath; then falling still. Flute Stick looked exhausted, but instead of going to his own hammock to sleep, sat beside Carrot in a chair close by.

Shawn watched this curiously. Behind him the others they had rescued from the prison, the soldiers, mercenaries and slaves and innocents, were stepping out from their rooms to see what the commotion was about. No doubt it had been alarming for them to hear.

‘Ere, what’s all the noise?’ one called.

‘Go back the sleep’ Shawn commanded him. ‘All of you. Everything here is fine.’

They slowly began to disperse again, slipping back behind the doors they had come from. Everything fell silent and still once more.

‘I’m sorry’ Flute Stick said to Shawn as he entered the room. ‘He cannot help it.’

‘I know’ Shawn nodded.

He took an empty seat beside Flute Stick, glancing over towards him.

‘I can’t help but notice’ Shawn said breaking the silence, ‘that the two of you always take turns in sleeping.’ He waited. ‘You never both sleep at the same time.’

Flute Stick looked mournful as he watched the still profile of Carrot. He did not face Shawn.

‘What happened to the both of you to make you wake so frightened all the time?’ Shawn asked.

‘Oh Shawn’ Flute Stick sighed. ‘It was horrible.’ He glanced towards him at last. ‘But its best you didn’t know.’