The cleansing flame

Previously: Esmiralda and her companions have discovered that the shattered ship—found upside-down and in the middle of a forest—was once captained by Harfirgorn the Merciless, a pirate of some repute that vanished long ago. On a quest to find his final resting place and the treasure that he is most likely buried with, they are accosted by a shambling, undead thing and draw the attention of a mysterious woman. Now, they ponder their next move.


Later, we gathered wood for a fire and Seymurh placed Ranfyrd's body on it.


"You are certain of this?" I asked Baram. She had been quiet since she had instructed us not to bury the body of her husband, her gaze alternating between his shriveled, misshapen corpse and the blue mountains to the north. "Our errand is urgent, but we still have time to bury your man, perhaps build a small shrine...?"


"I am sure. Under other circumstances, I would be honored to give his body back to the land, so that he may sustain it for those who still live." She met my gaze and I saw a quiet rage there. "The evil the mountain witch infected him with must be contained. I would not want it to poison the land, or the creatures who may pass through here. It must be the fire. That is another crime this Athelane must suffer for--denying Ranfyrd his rightful place in the soil."


Merrick had drawn a short, thick vial from some hidden pocket. He shook it, dipped a finger in it and then inspected the green liquid that coated its tip. Satisfied with what he saw, he crouched over Ranfyrd's body, mumbling something, as he drew a quick circular pattern on unfortunate man's forehead. Then he closed his eyes and brought his hands together in front of his chest, took a deep breath and held it for so long I wondered if he would ever take another one.


HIs eyes flickered open and he flashed me a smile with no humor in it. "Merely a precaution," he said. "The flames should cleanse what the soil cannot."


Broo Fang Tane stood on the other side of the pyre, his head bowed in prayer. Seymuhr swatted a few more insects. I was not sure what, if anything, I should say, so I shifted my weight and held my tongue.


Merrick bent and picked up a log that jutted from the fire we had started nearby. The end smoldered, ready to give birth to new flame. He held it up to Baram. "It is time," he said, his voice soft and filled with compassion.


Wordlessly, she took the torch and held it below the shriveled corpse of her husband. the dry wood caught quickly, the fire spreading in great crackling leaps. the body was consumed in moments as the flames reached toward the clear blue sky. The black smoke curled upward, tinged with a bizarre, bright green.


I glanced upward, noting three large black birds that were circling overhead. the smoke would reach the top of the trees soon, and be visible for leagues.


"Will the smoke draw the attention of our enemies?" I whispered to Merrick, who shrugged.


Baram must have overheard. "Let them come," she said.


We watched the flames and readied our weapons.