Heir of the Shining Isle: Chapter III

“I still think this is crazy,” Artham muttered to Esben.

It was nearly dawn. The two boys were lying on their stomachs while watching the two pirate sentries standing nearby. Wind whipped the grass blades into a frenzy around them, and the constant crashing of the waves on the shoals helped mask any noise the two were making.

“Have a little faith,” Esben whispered back. “Otherwise, we’re both doomed.”

“Oh, I think it’ll work. I just think it’s crazy.”

“Shush!”

The two pirates had paused in their conversation. They glanced around once, but then went back to talking.

Undoubtedly, Esben thought, they weren’t concerned about an attack. After all, he definitely was not a very intimidating figure as a ruler. He was just a thirteen-year-old boy whose parents were still overseas.

“Alright, let’s go.” Artham suddenly pulled Esben to his feet.

They ducked to the side of the guards, beneath an overhanging ridge closer to the water, and sprinted towards the camp. The Maker must have been favoring them, for a rumble of thunder in the distance distracted the guards long enough for the boys to safely pass.

Now, all they had to do was pretend to be cabin boys long enough to find a way to cause a huge explosion . . . so the Annieran warriors could sneak into camp and rout the enemy. They were already hiding in the hills around the shoreline waiting for the signal.

Though the captain had fought long and hard against Esben and Artham sneaking into the camp, they were the best bet. They were smaller, more agile, and less likely to draw attention. Of course, that was only true if Esben disciplined himself enough. That was getting harder with every wafting aroma of food.

As if sensing his brother’s hunger, Artham glared at him. “Stay focused! We can get something to eat later.”

“Working on it,” Esben hissed back. “I’m not stupid!”

From his brother’s eye roll, Esben wasn’t entirely sure Artham agreed. That argument would have to wait for another time.

“Look,” he murmured, pointing to the largest tent in the camp. It was an elaborate, red silk canopy with gold tassels hanging in front of the entrance. “Do you think that’s where the chief is?”

“If it is, let’s stay away,” Artham whispered back. “He could recognize us.”

Esben scoffed under his breath. “How?”

“I’m sure he did his research before coming here.”

That wasn’t really an answer.

“Come on.” Esben changed directions and walked towards the tent. “If it is the chief’s tent, this might be the best place for our distraction.”

“Keep your voice down!”

Yeah, he really did need to tame his tongue. This wasn’t a game; it was a mission. Besides, if he kept pushing Artham’s buttons, his brother would go all Throne Warden on him. Though, it wasn’t his fault Artham was so easy to tease. What else were brothers for? They were best friends, or worst enemies. Sometimes both.

“Oy, you, boy!” One of pirates sitting at the nearby campfire pointed at Esben, stifling a belch. “Get over here and fetch me a drink!”

“I’ve got it,” Esben whispered to Artham, who had tensed beside him. “Stick to the plan! I’ll find you later.”

Hopefully, his brother would listen. He doubted it.

“Yessir,” he said to the pirate, jogging over to take the man’s mug. “Another of the same?” Not that he had any clue what the pirate had been drinking, though he could guess, but he wanted to keep up the disguise.

“Ay,” the pirate said, nodding and returning to his previous conversation.

Esben glanced around, wondering where on Aerwiar the drink stands were. He caught sight of a barrel and ran off towards it, weaving through the camp. It was set up on a table with some other wooden barrels. Esben turned the tap, sending the brown liquid cascading into the pirate’s mug. Then he hesitated as the glint of metal caught his eye.

Turning, he saw something sticking out the tent beside him. After a quick look to make sure no one was watching him, Esben ducked into the tent. His eyes widened. It was full of musty crates, boxes of food, and extra weaponry, all shoved into large piles.

“The storage area,” Esben breathed. “Perfect.”

Well, almost perfect. He had some of the explosives in his pockets, but Artham had the rest and the lighter. The thought had just crossed his mind when someone suddenly stepped into the tent behind him. Esben felt the air current change and was about to whip around at attack, when he heard his brother hiss, “It’s okay! It’s me!”

“Oh good.” Esben turned. “This is it! This is the storage unit. What better place to blow up?”

Artham glanced around the tent, clearly trying not to look impressed. “Alright. Time to set it up.”

They quickly lay out the explosives, shoving them in between the crates at the center of the tent. Then they sprinkled gunpowder — a new invention from the Plains of Palen Jabh-J – on the floor. Artham lit a match, tossing it onto some wadded up cloth rags they’d found in one of the boxes. The flames roared to life.

“Let’s get out of here.” Artham grabbed Esben’s hand and they ran out of the tent – right into the protruding belly of a tall, angry pirate.

“What are you doin’ in there?” He roared.

Esben let out a wordless yell and tossed the mug of liquid into the man’s face. The pirate yelped, releasing the boys to wipe at his stinging eyes.

“Run!” Artham shouted.

They dashed off through the camp, dodging pirates who came crashing out of their tents to see what was going on. From behind them, they heard a loud boom that echoed around the beach.

“Bullseye!” Esben panted, grinning.

Artham shook his head, annoyingly unwinded from the run. “I don’t think that’s the right term.”

“Well, tell me when you come up with a better one, Limner,” Esben said, rolling his eyes.

They paused, glancing around themselves. The pirates were all running for the burning tent, where all their supplies were being devoured.

“Where are the soldiers?” Esben asked, worried.

As soon as the words left his mouth, there was a cheer from the hills. The Annieran army came streaking into the camp, instantly crashing through the ranks of the disorganized pirates.

“For the Shining Isle!”

Esben ran to the grass, digging through it until he found where he’d left his sword. With a cry, he drew it. Artham joined him, unsheathing his own weapon.

Together, they ran to join the battle. “For the Shining Isle!”

Entirely caught by surprise, the pirates were beaten back. Before the sun had fully risen, the pirate army fled back to their mighty ships and retreated into the ocean.

The Shining Isle of Anniera would not be so easily overrun.