Guild Wars: Sea of Sorrows by Ree Soesbee Read Free Book Online

if fighting an enemy. “Winning the hand of the fair maiden Gwen! Those are good stories.”
    “Charr are just mindless monsters, Sethus.” Cobiah yawned. “There’s nothing interesting about a mindless eating machine. You might as well be scared of the dolyak that pull carts in the city. Orr is where magiccomes from. The gods themselves lived there once. And now it’s vanished beneath the ocean, never to be seen again. Think of all the riches it must contain—the wealth and ancient secrets! I’d take that over monsters any day.”
    “Orr sank because of the charr,” Sethus said smugly. “They marched across Ascalon and then went to Orr next. And the wizards of Orr—”
    “Viziers,” Cobiah said, correcting him.
    “Whatever. A vizier tried to use magic to stop the charr army but ended up sinking the whole peninsula. The gods themselves punished him; he got turned into a lich in penance for what he’d done. You know what a lich is? It’s an undead creature, risen from the grave!” Sethus grinned ghoulishly. “He got punished, Orr was destroyed, and the charr conquered Ascalon instead. That means the charr won. See? Charr beats Orr.” Sethus crossed his arms and swung back and forth in his hammock. Even though it was dark, Cobiah could hear the grin on his face.
    Cobiah rolled his eyes and let the subject drop.
    The next morning, Vost woke them up with his usual blustery yelling, rolling sailors out of their hammocks if they were slow to rouse. The ship’s bell rang loudly. “What’s going on?” Cobiah rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “Corsairs on the horizon?”
    “Captain’s inspection,” Vost grumbled as he stomped past. “Get on deck!”
    Sethus punched Cobiah in the arm and raced toward the stairs. Not nearly as quick as the smaller boy, Cobiah called after him jovially as he trundled along with the press of sailors climbing up the ladders from the berth to the main deck.
    The sailors arranged themselves in their rows. Some tugged their shirts down or straightened the bandannasat their necks in case Captain Whiting took notice. Most of them didn’t bother, eyes wandering to ropes that needed to be coiled or sails that had mending to be done. An extra inspection was unusual, but it wasn’t enough to cause concern. Most likely, the captain just wanted to double-check the ship’s count before they reached port.
    Heavy sighs and mutters escaped the bravest as the captain and his officers came out of the quarterdeck cabins. “Gah, get it over with,” Cobiah grumped under his breath. Daylight was wasting. He saw Vost standing on tiptoe at the banister, speaking in low tones to Damran, the pilot. The conversation seemed sober, their voices grim, and a tension spread through the crowd. This was unusual. Even the cold sea wind felt somehow wrong.
    “Can you hear what they’re saying?” Cobiah whispered to Sethus, who was closer to the front ranks.
    Sethus squinted and tried to put together the bits he could hear. “Sounds like a ship was sighted last night. The men on watch late said they saw something signaling. Flashing lights at us.”
    “A message? What did it say?” He got no answer. One of the older sailors in the front row hushed them with a hiss and a glare.
    As Vost stepped back, Captain Whiting moved gingerly toward the banister. His emerald baldric shifted about his tubby belly, the medals of honor twinkling and clanking with each uncertain step. The captain paused to exchange a few words with his first mate and the old navigator, then ran one lace-cuffed hand through the sparse hair atop his forehead with a gesture that spoke volumes. Cobiah watched him interestedly, wondering what had the officers in such a strange state. Usually they spent only a few minutes on the quarterdeck, the thickbrass banister separating the crew’s world from the high heaven of the pampered officers.
    But today, instead of tossing a glance over the crew and heading back inside, Captain Whiting sidled