Preserve and Protect

Join Davina, a Waynairdian seafarer, as she takes a squad of Hunters to the isles of Ceilplean to rid them of Beasts. Dictated in 51 AS.

 

I am Davina of Ceilplean, captain of the Seal’s Tail, a schooner used to move cargo between the many islands of Ceilplean and the docks of Silwan. I am dictating this at the request of the Chapter Master of the Salted, who are the Hunters of Fenblith of Silwan, a name I find confusing.

 

The story starts a few days ago, when I arrived in Silwan feeling much more tense than I usually feel. We docked the Tail and I disembarked, expecting to be greeted by Hunters. Instead, I was greeted by a Novice, perhaps fifteen years old. He glanced at the boarding axe hanging from my belt. To his credit, he didn’t look worried by it. Most Silwanese do. Something about it being so clearly used but well-looked-after and ready for more. Something about it not being Starsteel, making it clear that it isn’t used on Beasts…

 

I asked where the Hunters were, stating clearly that I expected them to leave with me right away to slay the Beasts they had been hired to slay. He said remarkably calmly that he would take me to them. I grunted in irritation and jerked my head towards town to get him going. He turned on his heels and started taking me away from my ship and crew.

 

Silwan is familiar to me, of course, but I rarely venture beyond the docks. Usually, I arrive, offload the kelp that my people have harvested and prepared, onload the goods sent from all over Iseron to keep my people happy and healthy and disinterested in raiding your lovely coasts, and go back north, ready to once more face the Blade-Folk so you don’t have to.

 

This time, though, I was taken into the very heart of town: past the warehouses where I caught glimpses of the wares being collected for my people, past the workplaces where diligent workers created whatever Silwan might need, through fruit tree-lined streets where the familiar heartiness of the scent of the sea mixed with the floral vagaries of land in spring, to a shiny stone wall and gateway looking barely older than the Novice.

 

The wall was raised above the gate, forming a sort of arch. In it was carved the Hunters’ emblem, your swordstaff crossed with muskets crossed with sabres. Underneath that, at the actual gateway’s peak, was a shield-shaped decoration painted red. On it was a relief of three barrels – two up top and one below – with a raised outline the shape of the shield surrounding the lot of them. The barrels and the outline were painted a contrasting white. The coat of arms of the Salted.

 

I did not hide my scoff from the Novice. I thought this was all pomp, and as someone whose body has been brined by the sea’s temper their entire life, I thought the name a silly affectation, made all the sillier for the words cut into the gateway’s arch: “Preserve and Protect.”

 

It doesn’t feel as silly, now…

 

Regardless, the Novice led me through the gate and into the courtyard, where I saw four Hunters going through drills as a fifth watched and gave instructions.

 

At the Novice’s approach, this fifth Hunter turned to greet me. He was dressed in the black gambeson Hunters seem to always wear, with a steel gorget protecting his throat, but he had left off the helmet and cuirass and wore regular trousers instead of the usual padded ones. With a winning smile, he walked over and clasped my hand, introducing himself as Adept Hunter Nnamdi and apologising for making me come all this way. He gestured at the Hunters behind him, still going through their drills, and said he wanted to be absolutely certain they knew how to handle something other than sabres.

 

The Hunters were swinging axes, not unlike my own, albeit with Starsteel blades. Nnamdi explained he had understood that sabres could be a liability aboard ships because of their length, and should it be necessary to fight on board he did not want Hunters to hurt or damage anyone or anything they were not supposed to. He would have preferred the cutlasses many Ceilpleans use, calling them essentially short sabres. However, since the Salted didn’t have those at the ready and there was only so much Starsteel to go around, the axes used on Hunts in the salt mines would have to do. As such, he was making his Hunters go through some extra drills, as they used sabres ten times as often as they did axes, but he assured me I need not worry, as a tenth of the amount of training a Hunter does would still be more than enough.

 

I scoffed again, saying I’d have to see it to believe it, to which Nnamdi grinned that I would. He whistled, and each of the four Hunters stopped midswing, turning to face him, and stood at attention with their axe by their side before I even understood the whistle had been an order.

 

Nnamdi smiled happily. He told the Novice he was allowed to leave, sending the boy marching away. He then introduced his Hunters, referring to them as if they were his Siblings, as Hunters are wont to do. They were Sister Thomasin, Brother Gwilym, Sister Sadie, and Brother Mack, each of them inclining their head in greeting. It was only at seeing this traditionally Iseronian style of greeting that I realised Nnamdi had clasped my hand like a Waynairdian, using my custom instead of his. I thus inclined my head at his Hunters, returning the favour.

 

Still smiling, Nnamdi ordered his Hunters to fetch their guns, bayonets, and daggers, asking Gwilym to fetch his as well. The Hunters set off, leaving Nnamdi and me waiting in the sunlit courtyard. He noticed me looking at his gorget, at the three barrels worked into it. A mark of Rank, he explained, making me snort. He asked what was so funny, and I responded that for my people, the only marks of rank were the lines on our faces and the greying and thinning hairs on our heads, not some ornament to be worn around our necks to remind people to respect us. He chuckled, remaining good-humoured, and said the Hunters had those markers too, of a sort, as it takes a lot of skill to be able to grow grey and wrinkled as a Hunter. I contemplated a counter, but something told me he was trying to tease me into being flustered, so I remained quiet.

 

The others returned, carrying the muskets, bayonets, and daggers I was expecting, as well as pistols, which I was not. Nnamdi took his weapons from Gwilym, attaching the blades and pistol to his belt and slinging the musket over his shoulder. The musket, he explained, was supposed to be their main weapon for this Hunt, picking off the Beasts from afar, after which they would approach with bayonets to ensure the job was done. The pistol and daggers, like the axes, were there in case any fighting on board would be required. I told him I didn’t think that would be necessary. I had no intention of straying anywhere near a Blade-Folk ship; the Beasts that had begun occupying our northern isles were the only thing the Ceilpleans couldn’t handle ourselves. Nnamdi countered he’d rather be safe than sorry, adding the Hunters would also not wear their usual armour and trousers so that they might shed their gambesons and swim back to the surface should they fall overboard. I shrugged, saying they were free to Hunt how they saw fit, and suggested we return to the Tail. Nnamdi agreed, and we left for the harbour.

 

A peculiar thing happened on our way back. My walk towards the Hunters’ Headquarters had been scant remarked upon, the Silwanese simply going about their business as usual, as far as I could tell. But now that Hunters were walking through the streets, the people stopped and took notice. Even though Nnamdi and his Siblings must have been a daily sight, whereas I as a Ceilplean would almost never be seen beyond the harbour, people called out greetings and well-wishes, respectfully inclining their heads, and one small child even ran up and offered Nnamdi a small bag of nuts with the blessing of her father. Nnamdi responded gracefully, sharing the nuts among his Siblings and even giving me a few. They were good.

 

At the docks, I greeted my crew and gave them the order to get ready to set sail. Nnamdi and his Siblings came aboard, greeting my people courteously before going to the aft and waving at the onlooking people of Silwan. When we weighed anchor there were shouts of encouragement, when we left the harbour calls of goodbye.

 

Once we were headed the right course, I approached Nnamdi and asked him about his people’s response. He shrugged, saying the Silwanese, as most Iseronians, are very fond of their Hunters and make a point of showing their gratitude whenever they see them setting off for the Hunt. I chuckled that he and his Siblings had some reputation to live up to, but he was unphased, saying they always did just that.

 

The journey itself was unremarkable. The weather was fair, the waters calm, and we made good time. The Hunters used this period of waiting well: Sadie and Mack went over their drills again, Gwilym checked all the equipment, and Thomasin hovered from place to place, chatting to my crew and enjoying the view. Nnamdi, meanwhile, stayed near me, watching closely how I led the way north.

 

When night fell, we all ate together and the Hunters went down to sleep, as did I and the day watch, letting the night watch take over. I had been worried the Hunters might struggle to eat and rest in a rocking ship, but if they felt discomfort they hid it well, all of them seeming calm and happy to be there.

 

By dawn, we were approaching the southern tips of Ceilplean. We recently harvested there, so the shelters on the small, rocky isles were empty and the waters free of ships, but it was good to be home nonetheless. We continued to sail, the Hunters now all drilling together, to the amusement of the crew. More and more islands approached, growing in size.

 

Halfway through the afternoon, we caught the first shimmers of sails. We hailed our kin, who responded with waves and roars of greeting as we sailed past them and further up north.

 

More and more vessels appeared on the water, but there was little harvesting being done. The kelp forests here were well on their way to recovering from our last harvesting, but they weren’t ready yet, so the Ceilpleans merely checked on and ensured their health and recovery as they waited for the Hunters to face the Beasts that kept us from going north.

 

The sun was beginning to set again, Nnamdi, Gwilym, Sadie, and Mack lounging against the main mast while Thomasin looked out across the waters at the ship’s port side. I was looking across the ship from next to the wheel, about to give the order for dinner to be prepared when Thomasin suddenly let out a peculiar trilling sound and all the Hunters shot up. It was disorienting to see them go from leisure to action so quickly, all four of them having joined Thomasin before I registered something was happening.

 

Thomasin pointed something out in the distance to Nnamdi. I followed her finger towards the shore of a small isle, so cramped and uneven that no shelter had ever been built atop it, and saw what I had been dreading to see.

 

You must understand that the seal is sacred to my people. When centuries ago the Haffara came to Waynairde and fought, mingled, and eventually stayed with the Waynairdians, their ways mixed with ours. In Iosabale, this turned into a worship of Tireless Salmon as a manifestation of the town’s ancestors. In Cleathad, it is Fearsome Shark. For the Ceilpleans, the embodiment of our ancestors is Roving Seal, and nothing, not even the Coming of the Beasts, could change our respect and veneration for any and every seal roaming the ocean.

 

So when I say that seeing these Beasts froze my blood and that of my crew, that I would sooner have faced the largest Blade-Folk fleet in history than these three Abhorrents, know that I mean it.

 

They were seals, once, and large ones at that; probably some seven feet, with coats a speckled grey. Their heads, however, were no longer those of seals. Instead they were a sagging, squid-like mass with huge, writhing tentacles, grasping at the air and at the rocks, never resting, never still.

 

Nnamdi called for me to stop the ship and told his Hunters to arm themselves, telling Thomasin to stay at the railing and keep an eye on the Abhorrents to try and see if there were more or if they went into the waters. She nodded, intently staring at the small rocky isle as Nnamdi and the others ran to fetch their muskets.

 

I managed to tear my own eyes away from the Beasts, quelling my horror enough to call out the orders necessary to make the ship stop. The crew was shaken, though, and struggled to do what they would usually do without thinking. The Abhorrents had been spotted before, of course – that’s why we called on the Hunters – but they had been much further up north. To see them here, so close to where our people were currently staying… We were all shocked, struggling to get our minds away from this aberrant horror encroaching on our loved ones. The crew worked slower than usual.

 

And it cost the Hunters dearly.

 

Thomasin cursed. I looked over to see her step back from the railing. She called out to Nnamdi, saying a fourth Beast was climbing the ship. My back prickled at her words, a shiver running through me as I saw the tips of tentacles rise above the ship’s railing near where one of my crew was still working at the ropes. He saw the Abhorrent and turned rigid, staring in horror at the Beast. He did not notice the slithering tentacle reaching through the railing’s gap and for his ankle.

 

But Thomasin did, and she leapt forwards to hack at the Beast’s limb with her axe. She chopped through it, leaving the amputation to spasm as she turned to push my crewman back. As she did so, the Abhorrent’s tentacles blossomed over the railing behind her, enveloping her in a strangling embrace.

 

She called out for Nnamdi, who called back as he and the other Hunters came charging back across the deck with their muskets, but it was too late. Without even having shown its entire body, the Abhorrent let itself drop back into the sea, its massive weight wresting Thomasin overboard.

 

Nnamdi and the others crashed into the railing, looking over it with weapons ready. Thomasin was gone. Mack cursed, Sadie whispered something I could not understand, but the Hunters stayed cool. Looking out at the rocky isle, Nnamdi noted the other Beasts had disappeared somewhere during the commotion. He called for everyone to get away from the railings and ordered his Hunters to fix their bayonets and get ready.

 

Under Nnamdi’s instructions, Gwylim and Sadie went to starboard, ensuring the Beasts couldn’t slip underneath the hull and surprise the Hunters. Nnamdi and Mack stayed at the port side. As the Tail slowed, Nnamdi told the crew to get ready to go below deck. Before they could do so, however, the Beasts returned.

 

One Abhorrent clambered up near where Nnamdi and Mack were waiting. The crew scrambled away from it, only to find themselves near another two Beasts to starboard. Sadie broke away from Gwilym, rushing towards the bow to keep my panicked crew safe from the Beast rising there.

 

The Abhorrents climbed with consummate speed, their massive bodies heaving across the railing. I failed to understand how they were climbing so well, but it mattered little to the Hunters. They met them with firing muskets and charging bayonets, the shots’ noise not having died down before Starsteel sank into Beast.

 

To my horror, the Abhorrents seemed little troubled, using their weight to bear down on the Hunters and force them to step back lest they be crushed. I opened my mouth to share something of my shock with the woman still at the wheel, but was interrupted by her gasp. I turned to her, seeing her gawp at something behind me, making me spin.

 

The final Abhorrent clambered over the railing with horrifying ease, its ascent seeming inevitable. I now saw that each of the mighty tentacles was covered in suction cups crowned by a single sharp hook with which it grasped and pulled at the wood, heaving its terrible body out of the waters. As the Beast slumped over the railing, it raised its tentacles into a writhing fan, revealing a massive black beak, silently opening and closing in anticipation.

 

A pistol’s crack made me jump. Starsteel snapped into the Abhorrent, right next to its beak, as Nnamdi hit the afterdeck sprinting, his bayonet bearing down on the Beast as he dropped his pistol. It was a shock to see him charge, his speed and force snapping me out of the frightened stupor I had not realised I was in. How he managed to notice this Abhorrent while fighting another is beyond me.

 

Nnamdi’s bayonet sank into the Beast close to where the shot had struck. The squid-like head was forced back by the blow, but the tentacles folded in on Nnamdi. He bounced backwards, leaving his musket as he drew his axe and dagger. The Abhorrent’s tentacles grasped the musket and pulled it free, sending a jet of inky ichor spurting across the deck as it hurled the weapon away.

 

Nnamdi danced aside and made a lunging strike at the Abhorrent’s flank. The Beast seemed to flinch, but soon turned towards Nnamdi, heaving its twisted seal-form so that he was forced backwards, towards the railing. He turned his dagger in his palm so that its tip was aimed downwards. His eyes darted from tentacle to tentacle, trying to trace all of their movements at once. He dodged a strike, then another, then he suddenly stepped in, using his dagger to hook one of the twisting limbs and force it aside, cutting it off with one brutal chop of his axe.

 

He tried to jump back out of reach, but another tentacle grasped his left arm, the hooks sinking into the gambeson and pulling him in. He swung the axe with his free hand, removing the tentacle from the Beast, if not his arm, but another grabbed at him, and another. He cursed as one of the limbs curled around his throat, scraping on his gorget, scratching his jawline. I knew I had to act.

 

With a juddering force of will, I drew my axe and charged. I cut into one of the tentacles grasping Nnamdi. I knew the blow wouldn't do much without Starsteel, but still I was shocked at how little the blade bit into the Beast’s flesh. The muscles around the wound twisted and pulled, tugging my axe out of my hand as more tentacles turned to face me.

 

That was the opening Nnamdi needed, though, and he raised his dagger, amputated tentacle still wrapped around his arm, and rammed the blade tip down into the Abhorrent’s swollen head.

 

The Beast slumped like a sack of water, sagging across the deck as Nnamdi pulled and cut his way out of its dying embrace. Yelps and calls rose from the main deck, making me turn around. I saw the other Hunters locked in similar tangles, but unlike Nnamdi, they weren’t receiving help. I screamed for my crew to get into action, but Nnamdi wasn’t going to wait for them to overcome their fears.

 

He rushed to his Siblings’ aid, weapons at the ready. He got to Gwilym first, hacking his axe into the Abhorrent’s head. He did not pause, leaving Gwilym entangled as he jumped over the now dead Beast and rushed towards Sadie. I saw Gwilym shift as he tried to free himself, letting out a pained gasp before laying still. I began to stumble towards him as Nnamdi reached Sadie.

 

He swung the axe, but the Abhorrent twisted so that it used Sadie as a shield. Nnamdi checked his swing, stopping in time not to hurt Sadie. He took a step back and considered, feinted to one side, then bolted the other way, flanking the Beast before it could turn again and chopping through its head.

 

He was rushing for Mack before Sadie’s Beast had hit the deck. I kept an eye on him as I began to cut away the tentacles surrounding Gwilym. Mack was struggling fiercely, but his Abhorrent was pulling him towards the railing. Nnamdi called out, but he couldn’t reach Mack in time, watching helplessly as the Beast heaved itself and the Hunter overboard, Mack’s helmetless head cracking against the railing on the way down.

 

Cursing, Nnamdi dropped his axe and used his dagger to cut the straps of his gambeson. He shook it off, revealing a sweat-stained shirt, and picked up his axe again. I realised what he was doing and shouted for him not to as he hopped onto the railing.

 

“Preserve and Protect,” he roared, and leapt into the ocean.

 

For a moment, I was frozen. Then I left Gwilym and rushed to where Nnamdi had jumped. The waters still bubbled from the crash of bodies. Dark shapes shifted underneath the surface.

 

I thought of jumping after him, but the idea of the Abhorrent coming at me in the dark waters left me nailed to the deck. I ordered my crew to finally get moving and help Gwilym and Sadie and for someone to fetch the hooked pole we use to pull people out of the water.

 

As the crew at last got into action, Nnamdi rose, clutching an unconscious Mack to his chest, the Abhorrent’s severed head still holding onto Mack’s gambeson. He was struggling, trying to get Mack free of his jacket, but he couldn’t manage, his weapons lost in the struggle towards the surface. I saw Nnamdi’s free arm was bleeding, the flesh covered in cuts. I screamed for the pole as I saw him beginning to dip underwater, using all his strength to keep his motionless Brother above the waves. 

 

The moment I was handed the pole, I stuck it down. Nnamdi tried holding onto it, but his arm was too injured to bear the weight long enough to be hoisted up. I yelled at him to try, to just hold on, but he kept slipping, and his grip on Mack was beginning to fail. Finally, he put the pole’s hook underneath Mack’s armpits and had us pull him up first. 

 

We gave our all, hoisting the Hunter up, soaked gambeson and severed Beast head and all. We put him down and I immediately thrust the pole down towards Nnamdi again.

 

He was gone.

 

I’m not sure what happened. Maybe the exhaustion finally overcame him. Maybe he lost too much blood to the ocean. Maybe some animal – or even some unseen Beast – attacked him from underneath the water. All I know is that one moment he was there, and the next he was gone.

 

We tried to resuscitate Mack, but nothing we did could rouse him. I went to Sadie, but her Abhorrent’s beak had all but torn out her breastbone, leaving her as motionless as Mack. Gwilym had fared little better, saved in time not to die outright, but not in time to survive his injuries for more than a few minutes.

 

It had only been a little while since the Hunters had been lounging on the deck. Now all five of them were dead, two of them lost to the sea…

 

We set sail back to Silwan. My crew pleaded with me to toss the Beasts overboard, but I would not hear of it. I knew the bodies needed to be burned, and I gathered the Starsteel weapons the Hunters had left and held a vigil over the bodies, the entire way back, night and day, so that nothing would happen to them, the way I think Nnamdi would have wanted me to.

 

The return to Silwan was painful. People gathered to welcome the Hunters home and were heartbroken to see the lifeless bodies of Gwilym, Sadie, and Mack instead. Even deeper was the grief at Nnamdi and Thomasin’s bodies being lost entirely. I explained as best I could, but my own shock and grief, not to mention the exhaustion, made it difficult, which is why I was asked to dictate this story after a night’s rest.

 

The only solace I can offer now is this: thanks to Nnamdi…

 

The Beasts are dead.