Skyworld Book II

Prologue - Jungle War

The frigate class skyship drifted through the cloudless firmament like an auburn colored leaf on a gentle breeze. Drifting over the dark gray canopy of the foreboding jungle below it, the ships constantly shifting shadow rippled along the forest roof like a slithering snake.

The rim jungles of Skyworld covered most of the inner world's curved shell. Thus, whenever a skyship fell out of the heavens where the floating islands existed, it was to a lush, wilderness vista that literally went on forever.

Beneath that canopy existed creatures beyond the imagining. It was a savage domain and the deadliest predator walked on two legs. The only humans to inhabit the globe-spanning jungle were the White Cannibals. Unlike their golden skinned cousins who lived among the clouds, these earthbound albinos were barely one step above the beasts they hunted. Among the people of the floating islands, one common thread was shared by all the various government fiefdom and that was the belief that only death came to those who ventured into the Rim Jungles.

Which is why this solitary vessel, a massive battleship of the line, was an oddity. Even more so was the pennant it flew from the middle mast.  A white field with a brilliant golden sunburst at its center identified it originating from the country known as Meland. The fact the flag was upside down indicated the crew lived under an edict of official exile.

Although the crew of the Javelin reported to Captain Jax, the true master of the ship and her two-hundred-man contingent was Prince Arkurn of the House Corveir. A lithe, athletic figure, the prince paced the decks of the mighty ship in constant motion, his frigid glower keeping all others at bay. A cruel, brutal man, the banished monarch only confided in his closest advisors among the ship's officers. Others of the crew, all whom had chosen to follow him into exile, were expected to do their duties and stay out of his way when topside.

This tober, Arkurn, born Arkurn Treil'Eta Son of Corveir, moved about the massive sailing rig like a stonecat locked in a cage. For two long years, Arkurn had sailed the fringes of Skyworld to avoid the various municipalities, to include both allies and foes. After his abortive attempt to steal the crown of Meland from his sister, Althea, the rightful heir, he chose to disappear. Althea had outwitted him and he would not give her the opportunity to do so a second time.

Leaving the capital city of Candlemar in disgrace was a memory he could never dispel. Many tobers, he would walk the ship through several cycles, unable to sleep. And when he could, oftentimes his dreams revisited the moments of his defeat.

A strong wind, the same that pushed the three giant sails, washed over Arkurn and he pulled his cape tighter around his shoulders. Although the ball of plasma at the center of this interior world kept the temperatures moderate to hot, the relentless winds seemed to carry a cooling kiss. Stopping at the bow, the prince clung to the heavy wood railing and watched the jungles slide along beneath them. But he wasn't really seeing the wild at all, but only the mental images of the two people most responsible for his humiliation; his sister, Althea, now the queen of Meland, and her consort, the black offworlder known as Gideon Dent. It was this foreigner from another world who had slain his chief aid, Skymarshal Decov and in the process gained Althea her victory before the assembled masses on the capital’s commons.

A puff of black smoke curled out of the vista ahead. At first it appeared thin and frail. The sign of a campfire, Arkurn's mind reasoned on a subconscious level, while his consciousness remained locked in reverie. Ugly memories that had ripped the goals of a lifetime from his grasp at the very moment they were within reach.

Two full years, Arkurn and the Javelin had sailed the off-lane sectors of Skyworld purposely avoiding the populace realms. And even though he desired to remain lost among these outlanes, he was only to eager to collect news of his homeland. At whatever barren rock-island pirate harbor they anchored, his men would go amongst the outlaws seeking both supplies and information. That was how Arkurn learned that his sister had not only taken the black devil as her paramour, but had also made him the new Skymarshal of Meland. As if that wasn't insult enough, it was only just a few tobers earlier that news had finally reached them of the birth of a son to Althea and her champion. Arkurn had nearly vomited after hearing the report that a half-breed, brown baby now lay claim to the throne of his ancestry. It was vile and sacrilegious.

Arkurn, forgetting the power of his own hatred, slammed a fist into the railing and cracked the hard wood. His palm was scraped and blood bubbled through several thin cuts. He cursed his own temper.  Blood would flow because of what had been done to him, that was a certainty. It simply would not be his own. In fact, the only joy the prince now found in living each tober was in devising a master plan that would both reclaim the throne and punish his sister and her lover.

Two years of running and hiding was enough. Now it was time to turn his anger into a constructive scheme. He would strike back at Althea and Gideon Dent, but in due course. First, he had to devise the perfect plan.

The smoke he had noticed earlier seemed to be growing in size the nearer they flew towards its plume. A sailor up in the bird's nest cried out and pointed to the spiraling column of smoke. Blinking his eyes, Arkurn realized this was no little campfire sign. Smoke that thick and heavy had to come from a fire of catastrophic proportions.

Captain Jax, alerted by the lookout's alarm, came jogging down the steps from the wheel-bridge to the prince's side.

"What do you make of it, Jax?"

"I'm not sure, sir. Whatever it is that's burning down there, it's big."

Arkurn nodded absentmindedly. The tree roof was so dense, seeing anything through it would be nearly impossible even at this low altitude. To go down closer would be risky. Still, Arkurn's curiosity had been aroused by the column of heated smoke.

"Bring us down to tree level," he ordered. 

"That will be tricky, my lord. The air drafts whipping over those forest could make handling the ship difficult."

Arkurn turned his head so that his black eyes bore into the bearded captain's own gray orbs. Arkurn did not accept opposing views well. In fact, he was quite capable of throwing overboard anyone foolish enough to voice a dissent, no matter how innocuous. Jax knew that all too well.

"Aye, aye, my lord." He turned toward the bridge, cupped a hand around his mouth and shouted the command. "Close panels and drop her down to tree level."

The helmsmen looked over at other crewmates with the same expression of confusion and anxiety. But he obeyed. Grabbing several of the handles beside the wheel, he hurriedly clamped them down and along the hull; half a dozen huge lead shields dropped over strips of the elornium anti-gravity plates. Instantly the juggernaut began to descend, still maintaining her course towards the rising plume ahead.

Arkurn watched expectantly as the haze of smoke beneath them thinned appreciatively the closer they approached. As the ship's hull whisked mere feet over the trees he began to make out crude mud and thatched buildings, all of them aflame in a small, packed clearing area. It was a village. Then he spotted the scores of white figures screaming and racing about through this raging inferno. Groups, some brandishing crude clubs and axes seemed to be rushing upon others armed in the same fashion.

"White cannibals," Jax confirmed, looking down over the bow into the melee. "Seems one of their villages is being attacked by another."

No sooner had the gruff captain uttered those words, then the prince watched a group of dirty, naked men fall upon several women and children and tear them asunder with their weapons. Although not inured of violence, the royal son of Corveir had never seen it displayed so openly.  And against helpless weaklings.

"This happens often?"

"Yes, sir. They are all savages, you've got to remember. Not the smartest brains in the woods, those cannibals. So when they get tired of actually having to hunt animals for meat, most of which can eat them in return, they often simply fall on each other."

"Interesting.  And they will eat those they vanquish?"

"Them and their own that suffers the lot of getting severely wounded. Them cannibals ain't got no room in their tribes for the weak or infirm, excepting the stew pots, that is."

As Jax was rambling on with his information, Arkurn spotted a lone figure, somewhat taller and smaller than the other filthy combatants. This lone personage was crouched on a thatched roof and as one of the brutish attackers ambled by, it leapt off onto bigger man's back. Then it stove in the fellow's skull with what could only be a hefty rock in its hands. Jumping off its slain foe, the skin and bones murderer scrambled away just as five others came upon it in the open. Weaving in and out of the paths of screaming victims and slayers, the wily killer ran for his own life with unbelievable speed.

There was something in its movement that struck a chord in Prince Arkurn. "There," he pointed downward to the fleeing cannibal, as it scrambled through a small creek. "Stay with that one.  I want it captured and brought aboard."

"But sir.."

Arkurn grabbed Jax's tunic and pulled his ugly face closer. "I am getting tired of repeating myself, Jax. Very, very tired."

Jax's throat swallowed hard before he spoke.  "Yes, my lord. My apologies. It won't happen again, I swear it."

"See that it doesn't. I would hate to have to train a new captain this late in the game."

"Right, sir!"

"Well, don't just stand there, you fool. Get me that savage!"

Jax slapped a fist to his chest, the Meland signal of military custom, and set about carryng out his lord's command.

Commandeering the wheel personally, he ordered the ship's contingent of Royal Cadre, under the leadership of Lt. Janin Trex, to make themselves ready to drop into the trees the second he brought the huge skyboat to a halt.

Lt.Trex was a seasoned ship's marine and he quickly went about getting his six-man detail ready for action. Girthing their leather harnesses with multiple blades to include a short sword, the men took up their positions; Trex and three men over the starboard railing and the other three at port. Meanwhile, on the bridge, Jax was giving the orders for his men to lower sails and drop skyhooks.

As the multiple sheets of white canvas began to buckle and fold downward, sailors tossed the heavy steel hooks over the aft end of the bridge. It took only seconds before each of the giant barbs snagged itself on sturdy tree limbs and the Javelin jarred to a complete stop. It was the signal for the marines to take hold of their mooring ropes and fall away into the thick foliage below.

Arkurn watched them disappear under the overhanging limbs and began to pace the deck.  He was relishing what would come next.

---

Nit, young and angry, had killed two of the Others, which was a good thing. But now they had seen Nit and Nit could no longer hide on the roofs. Now Nit was running away, hoping Nit's legs would be faster than those of the big Others who wanted to eat Nit. Dodging around tree roots and rocks, Nit did not like the idea of being eaten. It was okay to eat the Others, Nit knew, but somehow being eaten was wrong. Very, very wrong. So Nit ran.

Nit made it across the water of the brook that encircled Nit's village. Nit hated that. The water was wet and very cold. It also washed away the mud that covered Nit's long and bony legs. This was bad. Mudless legs were soft and easily scratched, bitten by bugs and smelled by the big cats who lived in the jungles. It was better to be covered by mud and to live. But now was not the time to worry about mudless legs. Now as the time to run and run and run.

Until, that is, Nit slipped on wet feet and tumbled into a rocky ravine hidden by the thick branches are it. Nit cried out in pain and lay dazed on the ground. Nit felt pain in the back and Nit's sight blurred with a spinning dizziness.

Nit had to run. Nit tried to stand but only fell down like a baby. Babies could not stand very good. Nit was not a baby. Nit was a Grown One. Now Nit would be food.

The four Others, all yelling and laughing, stood at the lip off the ravine looking down at Nit. Through their mudcovered, hairy faces, Nit could see the joy in their small, black eyes. They were going to like eating Nit. Which Nit thought strange as Nit did not have any real meat at all. Nit was too skinny to be good eating. But apparently it seemed the Others didn't mind cleaning a few bones. They began scrambling down the escarpment, their arms waving their blood stained clubs in the air.

It was then that Nit was surprised for the first time ever. Others, unlike any Nit had ever seen before, materialized all around the others and fell on them with sharp stickers. The Others were slain quickly, falling in a heap side by side. Nit assumed the strange Others, they wore leather like skins over their own naked, yellow flesh, would now kill Nit.

Instead they approached Nit and picked Nit up off the ground. One of the Strange Others made sounds at Nit, then began dragging Nit away from the ravine, the lifeless Others  and, most importantly, the burning village that was Nit's home. At first Nit pulled back, not wanting to go. But then the Strange One pointed his bloodied sticker at Nit's face and Nit decided to go. After all, Nit's village was now only charcoal and smoke. Nit went with the Strange Others.

---

With their prize in tow, Lt.Trex and his cadre men made it back to the drop zone in quick time. Tying the cannibal to his own rope, Trex waited patiently until each of his men was set before giving a tug on the chord. Immediately the six ropes went taut as the crews in Javelin began hauling them through the air. The tricky part was circumnavigating the same tree limbs they had repelled around when descending.

Three minutes later, they were once again aboard the ship and presenting the captive albino to Prince Arkurn.

The ship's master was both enthralled and amused by the exotic creature standing defiantly before him. Just as he had guessed, seeing it run and maneuver, the dirt-covered savage before him was a girl. Slender like a fence post, eyes as large as jewels, he guessed her age to be early puberty, maybe fourteen, fifteen at the oldest.

As he walked around her, he realized despite her stench and the frailty of her physical condition, the beast girl radiated a primal stamina that was undeniable in her crouched stance and feral snarl, her white teeth all too ready to bite something or someone. Arkurn reached out a tentative hand towards her matted hair that was plastered with filth and detritus. It looked to be colored a soft gold color.

"Hmm, what would you look like under all that filth?" he mused aloud. The girl slapped at his hand and suddenly leapt at him.  Arkurn deftly sidestepped her attack and pushed her off. Barking, like some wild animal, the girl spun around and extended her hands like claws, her long nails clearly showing the threat they posed.

"No, this won't do. Not at all." Arkurn sought out Captain Jax. "Go to galley and fetch me a side of beef. Hurry, man. Can't you see our guest is hungry?"

"Aye, aye, sir."  The skipper vanished down the steps to the ship's hold. He was back in minutes hefting a paper-wrapped hunk of meat.

"Put it on the deck in front of her," Arkurn directed and Jax complied. Then he back away to wait with the others as to how the jungle girl would react.

"Go ahead," Arkurn urged, pointing at the slap of raw meat. "It's for you."

The savage girl eyed the food and then dropping to one knee, scooped it up with both hands. First she sniffed it, then she licked it with her pink tongue. Satisfied, she bit into with a growl and easily ripped off a large chunk. She began to chew this with fervor. Seeing that she wasn't being challenged, she at last sat back on her butt and continued her meal.

Arkurn laughed as the blood from the juicy steak streaked down the girl's chin. When she heard him laugh, Nit, mimicked the sound and joined him.

The rogue prince was very happy with himself. This wild girl was his first real step on the path to revenge. He would mold her into a weapon and she would come to symbolize his anger and his hatred. Yes, the jungle girl was the beginning of a vengeance that would shake the very foundations of Skyworld.

Arkurn laughed. Nit ripped off another piece of meat with her teeth.

End Of Prologue