Prophecy Of Kings: Volume 1 ✔️

Chapter 18 - A Watery Grave

In the eye o' the storm, peace you may find 'fore the jaws of Kione.

*****

Firmin grabbed onto Rupert as a starboard wave crashed into the side of the flimsy boat; casting them aside like children in the path of a charging Carlsyle bull.

The little vessel charged on through the storm,  bringing them ever closer to their destination. "Are you okay?" Firmin roared to Rupert as the ocean spray devoured and regurgitated the boat relentlessly.

"Firmin!" Rupert howled back at the Knight. "If we dinnae make it... promise ye'll visit my wife in Bràigh Mhàrr."

"Nonsense. Neither of us will be dying tonight," said Firmin, gripping Rupert tightly.

"Tell her a' did it fer Duncan's child." They both cowered as a crack of splintering wood pierced their ears despite the constant roar of the storm.

Firmin clambered to the front of the boat as it lurched forward into the gulley of a wave, like it was falling off the face of the earth itself. It was too dark to tell, but he frantically searched for any holes in the hull. To his relief, his fingers found no such breach.

I don't want to die! The voice within him reverberated though every fiber of his being. I have a purpose. A reason to live. I will not perish this night. Firmin fully embraced that what he longed to be wasn't a hero; nor was it to be adorned by the masses. He wanted her. He wanted Finn to live a full and happy life. He clenched his teeth as he reached for the rope, yanking it to assure the selkie was still in control.

A spout of water hissed from the bow, as a smooth sillouhette emerged from the ragged sea and clung to the boat. "Fit de ye want?" Spat Gartoch.

"Nothing," shouted Firmin back towards the twitching whiskers and obsidian eyes that pierced angrily in his direction. "I wanted to check you were still with us!"

Suddenly, the boat grumbled as though shook from below by an almighty tremor. "No...it can't be." Gartoch flipped backwards off the bow, diving deep into the watery darkness.

The wind continued to rage, but the waves relented slightly, allowing Firmin and Rupert to gain their footing; peering over the boat to where Gartoch had disappeared. A sudden jolt knocked them off their feet and a shadowy lump broke free from the water, thumping onto the cramped deck. Gartoch slithered from his blubbery skin; coughing sea water as he emerged a man, leaving his seal skin behind on the deck. He crawled into the corner of the boat, clutching his knees up to his chest.

Firmin clambered over to him, avoiding the fishy cloak that shrouded Gartoch moments ago. He grabbed onto his shoulder, recoiling as he felt the selkies uncontrollable shaking.

"Th...Th..."

"Spit it out man!" Firmin grabbed him with with both hands this time.

"Th... The black beast... Kione."

"Kione!" Shouted Rupert, slipping over the seal skin in panic. "What the hell is that beastie doing here?

A rythimic drumming reverberated from the depths, rippling the waves and calming the storm. Silence. For the first time in what felt like hours, Firmin heard the quiet ringing in his ears and the gentle sloshing of the water against the hull of the boat.

"Get ready." He took a wide stance to steady himself and drew his sword high into the air. Looking over his shoulder, he nodded at Rupert who was hunched over, gripping onto his sword tightly with both hands.

What the hell is Kione, and why is Gartoch so afraid? Another seal perhaps? An orca? They are the natural predators of the grey seals after all.