The Voyages of Hayreddin
A city of pyramids burning…
A pit full of skinned corpses…
A being of gold, kneeling in the ashes of a perfect city, howling in agony…
An angel desperately battling a daemon…
Lances of fire befalling setting an entire world ablaze…
A titanic eagle soaring stormy skies…
The howl of wolves on a world rocked by violent seas…
A corpse on a golden throne, screaming into eternity…
Hayreddin woke, staring wildly about him. For a moment, the rocking motion felt like the earth itself was about to tip over, until he remembered where he was.
He got out of bed, moving over to the window where the sun was just peeking over an azure blue horizon.
The sea.
Since settling the troubles of the tribes, Ain and Nuba had emerged as two major hubs for trade. It had been difficult, but the tribes had eventually became a unified force under Hayreddin's guidance, and as such, many other lesser tribes had eventually joined in. Other cities had eagerly sought to create trade deals and pacts with Nuba and Ain, and Hayreddin had been the one chosen to lead negotiations every time. Before long, with so many cities along the coast connected, Hayreddin had sought to create a council whereby the tribes and the cities were all represented to help smooth administration. It had been a long hard battle in diplomacy, with many cities seeking to protect its own interests, and fearing that such a council would undermine their autonomy, but eventually all agreed that such a move would be better in the long run.
As long as it was Hayreddin who would head the council.
As the years went by, Hayreddin had effectively become the ruler of every coastal city in all but name. He would eventually turn his attention to the only thing that could threaten the new regime he was building.
The pirates of Baybar.
If the desert was ruled by the tribes, then the sea was ruled by the pirates. Most bands operated independently of each other and indeed, spent as much time fighting each other as they did raiding the cities. These were easily repelled by the organised and competent soldiers and navies of the coastal cities. However, there were several that operated in coalitions of sorts, often mounting organised raids that would leave devastation in its wake.
Known for his peaceful nature, even Hayreddin had decided that there would be no negotiating with the pirates' coalition. As with the tribes, he had convinced the cities into combining their fleet to make a concerted effort to end the pirate threat for good. To prevent the independent pirate crews from banding together, Hayreddin had also offered them the opportunity to operate as privateers to fight the coalition in exchange for booty. Many had eagerly taken up the offer.
The Pirate War as it was now being called, had lasted nearly four years, given the pirates' own prowess at sea battle and their numerous hiding spots. But the greater discipline of the coastal cities' navies, the greater availability of resources and Hayreddin's leadership had all but assured victory, and the pirate threat had been ended.
With the sea safe once more, contact had been established with other lands across its vast expanse. Colonisation projects and trade missions had immediately taken place. Within the span of a decade, trade had flourished, and Hayreddin's influence had expanded greatly. His name had spread throughout all the known lands in Baybar. His fame grew to such a point that the leaders from distant lands had requested that he visit them. In order to solidify relations, Hayreddin had agreed. The tour had taken five years, and now Hayreddin was finally making his way back to Nuba.
Hayreddin made his way up to the deck, where only a handful of sailors were up and about. The sun was steadily rising in the east, and he spotted a familiar figure. Hayreddin moved to stand beside him.
Ravenna's face was craggier than ever, and his hair had more salt than pepper in it. He moved more stiffly now, and could not swing a sword as well as he used to years before, though he would stubbornly deny it.
Though the years have not been kind to his body, they have been much kinder to Ravenna's life as a whole. Ravenna had become honoured as one of Hayreddin's closest advisors, though his reputation as a warrior had diminished with age. His marriage with Isan had been happy, despite the constant bickering between the two. Ravenna had fathered a son with Isan, named Kazan and when he had left with Hayreddin, Isan had been expecting a second.
Hayreddin had been reluctant to bring Ravenna with him, but the older man had insisted. When Hayreddin had argued that Ravenna's duty to Isan, Kazan and his unborn child came first, the older warrior had countered: "The future, the good future they have ahead of them is because of you. By protecting you, I'll also be protecting them."
Hayreddin had turned to Isan for help, but to his surprise, she had agreed with Ravenna, albeit reluctantly. So Ravenna had accompanied Hayreddin, and in truth, the young man was grateful for his presence. After meeting different peoples and different cultures, Ravenna had been an unchanging rock for Hayreddin.
"Dreams again?" asked Ravenna quietly.
Hayreddin nodded. "Always the same: war, death, figures of myth and legend…a screaming corpse on a throne of gold."
Ravenna glanced at him. "They're just dreams, Hayreddin."
"I've been having the same ones for years. It's been worse since…" Hayreddin swallowed, grief welling up at the thought.
"Since what happened to your parents?" prompted Ravenna.
Hayreddin nodded. He knew he could go without sleep for unnaturally long periods of time, but every now and then, sleep would still take him unawares, and Hayreddin would see his parents, facing the knife of a raving madman, how he would be too late to save them.
Or he'd dream of war, and the screaming corpse.
"Have you tried to the sleep tonic?" asked Ravenna.
"They don't work," answered Hayreddin. "None of them do."
Ravenna nodded, knowing that it was better to say nothing if he had no concrete solution to offer. Instead, he changed to subject.
"No birds last night," he said, referring to the messenger birds that brought correspondence and news from Nuba and everywhere else. "None today, either."
"The day's just started," answered Hayreddin. "I'm sure we'll get some soon enough."
"Some of the sailors are worried, though," said Ravenna, pointing south where the horizon was dark. "Storm's brewing. Could be a bad one."
"With any luck, it'll blow long before we get there."
II II II
The day got darker, as did the mood on the ship as they drew closer to the gathering darkness. The sailors muttered to themselves as they went about their duties, often touching the various trinkets they wore around their necks in superstitious warding gestures.
Even the captain, Batuz, a seasoned sailor with many decades of experience at sea, had nothing positive to offer when he discussed the matter with Hayreddin and Ravenna.
"I've seen many storms in my time, and trust me, this one's is going to be a very bad one," said Batuz gruffly as he eyed the dark horizon.
"Any chance we can sail around it?" asked Hayreddin.
The captain shook his head. "It's too big, and moving in too fast. We'll have to weather it."
Hayreddin and Ravenna nodded, but there was something in the captain's eyes that made them hesitate.
"Is there something else, captain?"
Batuz stared at them, clearly weighing his thoughts. When he spoke, he did so in a lowered voice, as though he did not want to be overheard.
"Keep it between us, but this storm…there's something unnatural about it."
"What do you mean?" asked Hayreddin.
"I've seen many storms…I know all the signs when one's brewing…there's was nothing. This one just appeared out of nowhere."
Batuz jerked his head at his crew. "These men all know it…that's why we're so tense. What if something…the spirits maybe…that sent this storm to us?"
Hayreddin's fair face hardened. "The spirits play with all our lives, captain. Sometimes they make us suffer for no good reason."
In his mind, Hayreddin saw Baba and Ani meeting their ends. He turned away.
"The spirits don't give a damn about any of us."
Batuz stared as Hayreddin walked away. "What upset him?"
Ravenna shook his head. "A madman killed his parents in the name of the spirits. He's never been overly fond of them since then."
"Ah, my apologies," said Batuz, nodding. "He's wrong, though."
"About what?"
"The spirits do give a damn about us. They give a damn about our suffering," said Batuz, grinning. "Because whenever we think we've suffered enough, they send even more suffering our way."
XI XI XI
Long before he had met Hayreddin, Ravenna had already earned a reputation for his prowess as a warrior. He had served with mercenary bands since the age of fourteen, eventually taking command of one when he was barely twenty. Ravenna had fought in countless battles, provided security for numerous patrons, all while leading a company of hardened warriors with an iron fist over the next twenty years.
When he first met Hayreddin, Ravenna had been surprised that the young man had specifically sought to hire him alone, not his company. At first Ravenna had been reluctant, but the terms had been generous; he would oversee the security of Nuba and its military for the foreseeable future for very good sum including pensions if he should retire of old age. Ravenna had accepted, resigning from his company and leaving the life he had known behind.
Ravenna had done his job well enough, but he had been impressed by Hayreddin's leadership, vision and unwavering determination to overcome the tribalism that had so pervaded desert culture. Soon Ravenna had found himself serving Hayreddin not because it was what he was paid to do, but because he believed in Hayreddin, and what the young man believed in.
Though he never said it aloud, Ravenna believed that the only thing that hampered Hayreddin in his goals was his lack of ruthlessness, his unwillingness to sacrifice lives and his eagerness to compromise. Ravenna had observed it during the Summit at Ain with the tribes, the various negotiating with the rulers of the coastal cities over the years and so forth. Ravenna, and sometimes even Isan had talked to Hayreddin about the need to be ruthless, but Hayreddin had insisted that compromising was the best path. So Ravenna had decided that he would do what Hayreddin would not, without the young man's knowledge. He would be Hayreddin's dagger in the shadows.
Where Hayreddin preached his message of cooperation, peace and prosperity to the masses, Ravenna and those under his command waged a war in the shadows against those who would defy Hayreddin and his goals. Intimidation, sabotage, even assassination, Ravenna stopped at nothing to remove those who stood in the way. Whenever he stopped to think of how his honour had been tarnished, Ravenna would remind himself that the enemy wouldn't let honour stand in their way. Ravenna had lost count of how many assassinations attempts on Hayreddin's life that his shadowy group had stopped.
Though he took great pains to keep his activities secret, Ravenna was more than certain that Isan knew about them. All the years together before and after their marriage assured him of that. But Ravenna also knew that Isan, like him, loved Hayreddin like a brother. That was probably why she had never confronted Ravenna about his shadowy activities on the young man's behalf. Ravenna took her silence as tacit approval.
As for Hayreddin himself; he was harder for Ravenna to read, but given the young man's brilliance, the former mercenary had more than passing certainty that he knew. Many times after a successful diplomatic negotiation where Ravenna had employed his own brand of 'diplomacy', he noticed that Hayreddin would glance at him thoughtfully for the briefest of moments. Ravenna knew that Hayreddin frowned upon such ruthless methods, and was more than certain that the young man would have confronted him a long time ago if he had found out. Yet despite his own considerable discretion, Ravenna found the thought of being able to hide anything from Hayreddin for such an extended period of time laughable.
Perhaps Hayreddin was more ruthless than Ravenna gave him credit for.
In any case, the young man had never confronted him about it, and Ravenna had continued his clandestine war against Hayreddin's enemies.
He was Hayreddin's dagger in the shadows.
Ruthless. Fearless. Unyielding.
Prepared for anything.
Only now, Ravenna how much of a lie it was. Nothing could have prepared him for the storm that struck. Fear clenched his heart as the ship, as sturdy a vessel as he had ever seen, rocked about as though it was no more than a leaf being blown about in the wind. Already, three sailors had been thrown screaming overboard. The entire crew, as seasoned as they were, were faltering against the violent storm. Ravenna himself wanted to huddle down in the bridge and pray to the spirits for deliverance. He belonged on land; he was no good to anyone at sea.
But it was Hayreddin that held them all together. He stood among them, far taller than any of them, fighting alongside them to keep the ship afloat even as the waves battered it from every side. Long, delicate-looking hands grasped the ropes with steely strength, and a voice that was normally soft and pleasant to the ear was now raised so that it could be heard over the storm, filling them all with courage and determination as they fought their desperate battle against the elements.
Ravenna battled alongside them, but he discovered yet another unpleasant truth. He may still have a strong body, but he felt as if every single one of his considerable years weighing heavily. He found himself flagging, struggling to keep up, every breath laboured and every joint protesting. Ravenna saw the simple truth of it: he was old.
Gritting his teeth, Ravenna rejoined the sailors with renewed vigour as they fought to stabilise the ship's mast.
And nearly got thrown overboard when another powerful wave struck the ship. Ravenna found himself hanging over the deck, clinging on to the rails for dear life as he coughed up the seawater he swallowed. Grinding his teeth, Ravenna attempted to pull himself back on deck.
But found that he just didn't have the strength to do so.
The shock of it nearly caused him to lose his grip. He felt as if every single muscle in his body was on fire. At first, Ravenna couldn't fathom why, but then he realized that he had been up on deck fighting to stabilise the ship alongside the crew since the onset of the storm. It must have been several hours since then, but to have been so drained…
The fact hit him again with such force that it was almost a physical blow.
He was old.
He couldn't even lift himself back onto the deck. If anything, his grip was slipping. With the last reserves of his strength, Ravenna tried to haul himself up over onto the deck. Once again, his strength failed him and worse, his grip slipped completely.
Time seemed to slow down for him as he fell, the rail growing farther away…
…when a pair of arms reached over it and caught him!
The strength in those arms was incredible as they effortlessly lifted Ravenna back onto the deck. For a moment, Ravenna was unable to stand, his knees shaking as he knelt, hating himself for his weakness.
"Are you alright, Ravenna?"
The concern in Hayreddin's voice made Ravenna flush with shame, so he nodded without looking up. He got to his feet unsteadily, partly due to the close brush with death, and the ship's own rocking motion. Around them, the crew continued their desperate struggle.
"Come on," grunted Ravenna, moving to help them when Hayreddin grabbed him by the shoulder.
"Ravenna, I think you should stay below deck."
The old warrior whirled around to face Hayreddin. "What?!"
Clearly having anticipated Ravenna's response, the younger man spoke quickly. "Please, Ravenna. You're in no shape to be up here. Get below deck. It'll be hard for me if I have to worry about you as well." Noticing Ravenna's expression, Hayreddin leaned in closer. "If you won't do it for me, do it for Isan. Do it for Kazan. Do it for your unborn child. Do it for your family, Ravenna!"
When Ravenna hesitated, Hayreddin actually hissed, looking angry. "Is your damned pride really worth your life?"
Ravenna stared at Hayreddin silently, and the young man straightened up, looking as furious as Ravenna had ever seen him when a shadow fell over both of them. They both turned, and saw a wave taller than anything they had ever seen bearing down on them. Seconds before it struck, Ravenna felt Hayreddin's hand seizing his arm, the younger man's grip like iron.
And then the world turned into total chaos. The last things Ravenna remembered was the suffocating darkness of the ocean and the sight of men and the ship whirling in the crushing blackness.
Through it all, Hayreddin did not let go.