The Chronicle:

 
 

On board the Maris Stella, off Caligari Island, 26th day of Octavus 1668.
 

Dear Meli,

I have made such  a dreadful mess of everything.  May it please Theus to grant me an opportunity to make it right.

I closed my last letter as I was about to reach Reinascienza, on Caligari Island.  I took Sebastiano, his stepmother signora Lucretta Biancastro, Didi, Rodrigo, and Vincente with me as I went ashore.  I thought we would disperse a bit through the port and market, and casually try to find out what Prince Caligari's estate was like: where it was, when any deliveries of supplies were made there, how it was defended, and so forth.  I was surely not as discreet and casual as I had hoped, for eventually we were rounded up by the city guard to be interrogated.  At first I hoped this might be resolved more easily, but the guards had clearly decided we were up to something.  They  took us to the city prison and were going to put us to the question!

We tried to make a break for freedom.  Sebastiano, Lucretta, and I were able to escape together, and Rodrigo escaped in a different direction, but Didi and Vincente were caught behind.  I had to break them out of the prison!  Sebastiano and I were able to steal uniforms from guards dispatched after us, although there was no way to convince Lucretta – or Sebastiano – that she should where anything but her Strega garb.  After trying to find a way to sneak in over the walls, I decided it would be best to try through the sewers.

I will spare you the details, if only to make this letter shorter.  We got in but found the cell where Didi and Vincente had been empty.  I managed to sneak a look at the prison register, and saw that they were to be hung in the morning, so we searched the wing where those sentenced to death seem to be kept – no luck.  We finally had to leave before we too were caught, and I pondered a rescue at dawn when they would be brought out for execution.  We returned to the Maris Stella for the rest of the night – only to find Rodrigo had been through the sewers just ahead of us and freed his brother and friend before we could.  I felt miserably incompetent, but relieved that all three were back on board.  Unfortunately, Vincente was gravely wounded while protecting Didi; he is in sickbay now, being tended by the ships' surgeon.  How I wish it was you who tended our wounded instead!  I would feel much easier in my mind.

I took the Maris Stella out to meet the Hanged Man and retrieved the Syrneth clockwork cannons; I think we will need every advantage we can muster.  We are now sailing for a little cove on the north side of this wretched island, where I plan on going ashore and trying to reach Vincenzo Caligari's estate overland; this is perhaps a two league hike.  The landing party will only include only volunteers: Sebastiano, Didi (who I think can shoot well enough to handle a Syrneth cannon), and Volta, the mute Crescent sailor from the Dauphin's crew.  I wish Rodrigo was on it too, but he is tending his brother (and perhaps he mistrusts my skills, for which I could not blame him).  I asked Jemy at the same time as Volta, but he shook his head.  I have also given up the idea of bringing Lucretta, as the trek to Caligari's estate would be too difficult for her.

How I pray I can be in time, and not lead anyone to disaster.  I will finish this letter when I return, or rather if I return.
 

Later:

On board the Maris Stella, the Frothing Sea, 15th day of Octavus 1668.

The landing party rowed out to shore in a ship's boat, while the Maris Stella went to hide out of sight.  The beach soon ran into the wall of a sheer cliff, but it was not impossibly hard to climb.  I led the way, because I did not want to endanger anyone's life more than I would risk my own.  As we were hugging the cliff face like so many flies, a tremor shook the ground; we hung on for dear life as a small earthquake rocked the area.  When the aftershocks had ceased and I warily resumed climbing, I discovered a new fissure in the rock wall.

I went in a little ways to examine it, in the hopes that it might connect to something more important.  Indeed it did: after a few dozen yards, it opened from a fracture in the rock into a smooth, artificial corridor.  I would have called it "man-made", but it closely resembled the Syrneth-made tunnels of the catacombs of Charouse!  It immediately struck me as the likeliest of things that Prince Caligari would have built his stronghold right atop a Syrneth site.  I went back to call to my companions, and they all climbed into the fissure.  The first few yards were a tight fit for the burly Volta, encumbered as he was with the two small cannons, but it got easier in the corridors.

Because it was clear that Sebastiano was much better at this than I was, I let him go first to scout the way.  I thought of you every step of the way, but it was fortunate that he did take the lead, because he was able to detect most of the traps where I would likely have missed them entirely and taken us all to our deaths.  Only one of these traps did he miss noticing at first, but be reassured, he took no harm from it.  Agile as a cat, he was able to avoid the spikes that covered the bottom of a pit under the false floor.  I did notice that he was getting annoyed with the architect of this place, however.

As to myself, I did not fare as well.  I was already wounded from our boarding action and from our encounter with the city guard.  I slipped, and the dangerous spikes left me crippled.  But there was no choice for me but to go ahead; I could not turn back so close.  We continued on, until the corridor suddenly ended with a single, very much man-made, wooden door reinforced with iron banding.  I signalled Volta and Didi to stop, while Sebastiano and I listened at the door.

I heard the voices of two women, one young and one old: "Are you sure about this?" the first one was asking.

"It will not be long now," answered the second.  "She arrives."

I glanced at Sebastiano, but he grimaced; he could not make out the words.  I waved him and our companions to the side, out of line of sight, and I tried the door; it was unlocked.  I opened the door and saw a large room, perhaps twenty yards on a side, bare except for what looked like a table and chairs brought there as temporary furniture. Three women dressed as Fate Witches were playing cards; behind them stood Alesio.

I walked in.  "Who's winning?" I asked.  As usual, it seemed I could face danger more easily if I made light of it.

"That is a good question," answered the Strega sitting in the centre, the older voice I had just heard.

The three women – one young, one old, one middling, tell me if you recognize the symbolism – jumped to their feet and seized large cutting shears.  The two younger ones started moving to either side of me to flank me, while the older one remained behind the heavy table.  To avoid the flanking manoeuvre, I quickly threw my lantern at the youngest one, on my left (and missed, alas,) and advanced rapidly to meet her attack.

The witches gestured at me, and I recognized from seeing this before the Curses they were hurling at me.  I tried to tackle the closest but she side-stepped me easily.  The three were muttering something, casting some sort of spell together.

Behind them, I saw Alesio suddenly make a great ripping gesture through the air, it reminded me as much of Porté sorcery as of Sorte.  I felt the Curses melt away, and several wounds I knew as the mark of Fate Lashes appeared on Alesio's face, leaving great tracks of blood.  The three Stregas howled with anger.  They whipped around to face Alesio and started wielding their shears like weapons.  They snipped at thin air and the most horrible wounds started appearing on Alesio, severing fingers, limbs...  It was more hideous than anything I'd seen in battle before.  Alesio collapsed in a river of blood.

Meanwhile, my companions burst in.  Didi came to my help against the youngest witch, Volta ran towards the one on the far right, and Sebastiano, exclaiming: "Strega!" ran towards the oldest one, leaping across the table.  I swung a heavy coil of rope as both weapon and shield, trying to snare my opponent.  The creatures of Legion were still wielding their sorcerous shears.  Didi fell to their blows, lifeless, but her help gave me a chance to put down our adversary.  I snagged the shears from the witch's hand, but when I tried to pick them up they cut my palm wide open.  Finally, I subdued the creature.  Volta, who is large and tough, also got rid of his witch – snapping her neck like kindling.  But Sebastiano found a most dangerous adversary with the oldest witch; she was as quick as a snake and caused him grievous wounds.  He fell unconscious.  Volta moved to the hag and slashed at her with his cutlass, but she seemed as tough as he.

I finally had a chance to draw and cock my pistols.  I aimed carefully, staring the witch down, and discharged both pistols at her, severely wounding her.  A blow from Volta finished her off.  I ran to Alesio, but there was nothing that could be done to save her.  She was a ghastly sight.  With her remaining, though mutilated hand, she grabbed my arm and pulled me closer, murmuring: "Help him -- you are the last thread..."  She died with this last breath.

I check Didi but alas, she was already dead.  By Theus' grace, I was able to staunch Sebastiano's bleeding.  I looked around and saw three doors leading out: one ordinary wooden door across the room, and two iron-banded ones to either side of it.  Walking over there, I listened at each door.  Behind the one on the right, I could hear laboured breathing.  Surely if anyone had been able to intervene, they would have been warned by the noise of the fight.  Whoever was behind the door was probably a prisoner.   I tried the door and found this one locked.

I asked Volta to break it down.  The man is strong as any three others, but it took him several tries.  When at last the door flew to pieces, I saw a cell, and chained on the far wall, Captain Allende.  He was gaunt from starvation and injured from torture, unconscious.  I cannot describe to you how I felt.  All I know is there were suddenly two of me: one, screaming endlessly in horror and wringing her hands in the back of my mind; and another methodical and decisive one who, fortunately, seemed to control my body.  I turned to Volta and asked him if he could rip the Captain's chains from the wall (neither of us has any skill with locks.)  With great effort, he was able to wrench out the longer ones which held the arms, but try as he may, he could not break the ones tying Captain Allende's ankles.

I thought a moment about using the cannons.  (Yes, you ask, what of the cannons?  Why not use those on the witches?  The answer is, because I was stupid and thought Caligari would be there and seize them, so I had left them out of sight.  If you only knew how inept I feel.)  The cannons'  beam would likely send rock shards flying everywhere and might wound or kill the Captain.  I quickly went to collect the Stregas' swaddling veils, and used those to wrap him for protection; and placed myself between him and the wall to shield him as much as I could.  Then, taking aim for a long moment, I shot the remaining chains to pieces.

We now had two wounded and unconscious men to bring back.  Volta could carry them, and I could perhaps take one of the Syrneth cannons, but not both.  But I was not going to leave it here for Caligari!  I asked Volta out of the cell and positioned myself around the edge of the door, the cannon well braced.  With a good square shot, I destroyed the other cannon, sending pieces of clockwork ricocheting in all directions.

Volta hoisted Allende and Sebastiano, one over each shoulder, and I lifted the remaining cannon, still strung on its chain.  We made our slow and careful way back, but I was very wounded and it took all my remaining strength to cross the traps again.  Still, we made it out, found the rowboat, and rowed out until I could send a signal flare for the Maris Stella.   The ship emerged from the cove where it was hiding and swung to collect us.  I climbed up the side ladder, holding on with both hands, exhausted and anxious to be far away from this island.

I went over the side; and as it was slowly registering that the deck was very deserted, men emerged from cover.  Among them I recognized Paul du Paix and Julius Caligari, whom I had left marooned among the islets between Castille and Vodacce; and the pirate Reis.

Du Paix laughed uproariously, while Caligari and Reis looked on with evil amusement.  "Don't worry, I will not kill you or your crew," du Paix said.  "I will make you the same generous offer you made me: a ship's boat.  In exchange, of course, for the contents of this one."  He indicated the rowboat.

This rowboat contained the man I love and two companions who had helped me free him.  There could only be one answer.  I aimed from the hip, with a shot of the Syrneth clockwork cannon still slung on my shoulder meant for Reis.  It was a lousy shot, and did him barely grazing damage.  With a roar, du Paix struck at me.

But meanwhile, Volta had climbed the ladder.  Julius Caligari moved to intercept him, and they exchanged cutlass blows.  Behind my enemies, the padlocked hatch to the lower deck burst open with a resounding crash and Jemy emerged, followed by the rest of the crew.  A general battle broke out, and Jemy came to my help against du Paix.  But if Volta and Jemy are big and strong and can take fights like this, I am not.  I was barely holding my own, until I found myself facing Reis.  I tried to get another shot in, but he swung his monstrous scythe and it cut through the chain the cannon was slung from as if it had been darning thread.  The cannon rolled across the deck; I slid behind it on my belly to catch it, but Reis swung his scythe again, and I saw the flashing blade descend.

And I heard a voice complain: "Oh, this is ridiculous!"  Everything stopped.  Reis' blade froze, a hairsbreadth from my neck.  Everyone on deck was immobile, stopped midmotion as if transformed into statues.  I slid out from under the scythe, bewildered; I was the only one moving.  From the side ladder, I heard a rippling noise of dripping water, a swishing of wet fabric, and a stream of complaints in Vodacci.  I saw another Fate Witch climb up, her heavy black skirts and veils completely soaked and dripping everywhere.  Out of reflex I moved to help her aboard, but she snapped: "Don't touch me!"

She swung herself clumsily over the side, muttering a long stream of gutter curses.  "What a mess!" she complained.  "She thought she was so smart, dragging me into this!  Now her thread's gone, they're all gone but this... Castillan!"  She wrung her water-logged clothes while she spoke, hardly paying me any attention.  When I looked over the side to check on Captain Allende and Sebastiano in the rowboat, I saw that the boat too was frozen on the crest of a wave that could not move; and I observed that as the water droplets fell from the Strega's clothes, they stopped in mid-air.  It was a most peculiar sight, and I found that instead of two of me, there was now a third, somewhere in a back room of my brain, puzzling on how exactly this worked.  The one of me that had been screaming did not see fit to stop, however.

Then suddenly the witch turned to me.  "Well?" she snapped.  "What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Perhaps if you explained the nature of the problem I could be of more help," I said faintly, as if keeping as calm as I could might somehow make this more sane.

"It's this meddling Alesia!  She thought she would be so clever, working the knot out, cheating it, and hedging her bets by dragging my threads into this.  Now she is dead, he..." she waved a dismissive hand towards the rowboat, "he's useless, you're the only one left.  So you have to tell me how to fix this so I get myself out of it."  She sounded disgusted.  "A Castillan, no understanding of Sorte..." she continued muttering.

"And you would be...?" I asked.

"Dead.  Long dead."

At this point I decided that with the exhaustion, blood loss, and insanity of the day, I could use a tot of rum.  "A moment, please," I said, and headed for my cabin.  But alas, the door too was frozen and could not be moved.  I was like struggling against a stone wall.  I gave up, disconsolate, and let myself slide to the deck before my legs would give out.

What followed was a very strange conversation.  What I understood from it, although the witch did not explain it in so straightforward a manner, is that Alesio's family was cursed six hundred years ago to betrayal.  Alesio decided to outsmart fate and not only work the "knot" out (as the witch referred to it), but cancel it.  Knowing she was fated to betray Allende, she betrayed him in such a way that (she thought) the damage could be repaired.  When things started unravelling, so to speak, she ripped the 'tapestry' to shreds and apparently managed to pull this witch's strand in to force her to do something about the situation.  The witch said she had been reached through Beatrice Caligari, although I have no idea what she meant by that.

The witch said she had momentarily "stopped the Loom"; she claimed to be able to work the strands back to a certain extent, and "reweave the tapestry."  But she did not know how to do this in such a way that she would be left out of it; I am not sure to what extent she was conscious of external events – and people – other than as 'threads.'  I first suggested that if I had been faster in freeing the Captain, we might all have escaped before the Crimson Roger reached us, but this did not suffice; always Reis showed up too fast.  She said she could do nothing to Reis' thread, it was immovable.  For the same reason, she could not change the fight between Allende and Reis so that Allende won.

I threw several hesitant suggestions, some of which even pleased her enough, but they all resulted in deaths that did not please me.  For example, she would have been quite happy to have Captain Allende die in that fight, as it would no longer result in her involvement.

Then I asked if the knot could be changed to a different knot, or moved elsewhere in the 'tapestry'.  She reflected on this.  While she mumbled in a low voice, I observed the threads of her clothing with morbid fascination, for they moved and squirmed like living things.  "Perhaps," she said, talking to herself again, "perhaps...  To Cabora?  Yes, we could try Cabora...  It might work..."

I had to explain very carefully that I wanted Allende, Alesio, Didi, Sebastiano, and everyone of my companions alive; we could take our wounds, as long as we lived through the reweave.

"Yes, yes, yes," she dismissed me.

The next thing I remember is waking up late in the night, to the sound of six bells on the middle watch.  I knew I was in my own cabin, I could feel the swaying of the Maris Stella and hear the way her timbers shift.  I fumbled in the dark to light a lamp, and hurriedly checked the log book for the latest entry.  It dated from the 14^th of Octavus, a full twelve days before my last memory.  The day before we had encountered the Hanged Man after the fight with the Crimson Roger.  I hurriedly got dressed and got on deck, directing the men to pack on as much sail as she would take.  If we could get to the Hanged Man's assistance in time, we could repel Reis!

My lovely Maris Stella flew like a cliff swallow, and as the sky became light, I sent lookouts to all masts, offering a reward to the first sailor who would spot a sail.  I broke out the small arms, letting the crew know only that I had certain intelligence that Reis would try to ambush the Hanged Man.  Bless the men, no one questioned me, nor the fact that the captain of a Castillan letter of marque is so willing to help a pirate.

I had the joy of seeing Didi get on deck for her watch, alive and remembering nothing; then a little bit later, Sebastiano emerged from his cabin, smiling and in good health.  I thought of you, and how you would like this better; and I began to hope that maybe Captain Allende would also be unhurt.

At last we saw the Hanged Man, and it looked like we were too late.  The ship was damaged, although this time it had a functional main mast and some canvas on it.  I clasped my looking-glass tightly, until I recognized the disreputable red greatcoat that Captain Allende seems to like so much.  I slumped against the taffrail, thanking Theus.  Next to the Captain, I made out Alesio's shape as well.  We sent signals, and soon our two vessels met.  I was able to observe with my own eyes that Captain Allende was hale, having suffered minor cuts perhaps, but otherwise unharmed.  Likewise, Alesio was alive and well.  I don't know how I managed to retain any poise, for it seemed my knees would not work.  But I think I did save face.  If I appeared upset, surely people will think it is only normal that I would dread a battle with Reis.

The Hanged Man has been quite battered in the fight, and I have sent my carpenter and his mates over with extra spars as well as canvas and line.  I am writing this letter while they work; Captain Allende has invited Didi and I to dine with his first officer, his bosun, and himself tonight.  All day I have been reading the log and trying to catch the rumours of what has happened of late.

It seems that Vincente is still in sickbay, although in this version of events we did not go to Reinascienza; he got hurt in the combat against the Dauphin.  Jemy and Volta are on board, but Lucretta Biancastro is not.  Apparently we picked up Sebastiano in Malaca.  Somehow we captured the cargo of the Dauphin, but according to the log, not the ship herself; in the fight, Jemy and Volta defected and kept du Paix's crew at bay, while I went to the fleut's hold and retrieved the cannons.  Scuttlebutt rumours report that in the battle with Reis, Allende and Alesio were able to hold off the blackguard and keep him busy on deck, while bosun McCorley managed to sneak into Reis' cabin and steal something valuable.  The Crimson Roger was dismasted, allowing the Hanged Man and its one remaining mast to limp away.

I am torn; I keep alternating between prayers of thanks to Theus, and begging for mercy on my soul because it was accomplished through sorcery, Legion's tool.  And I keep fearing that the witch's help may be no help at all.  For now, though, I need to dress well enough not to shame the Maris Stella when I dine with Captain Allende.  I feel like I have been called aboard an admiral's flagship.
 

Later yet:

On board the Maris Stella, the Frothing Sea, 16th day of Octavus 1668.

We had dinner in the gunroom.  The meal was a heart-wrenching affair for me.  I was besides myself – no, not quite so literally this time, but with joy, at seeing Captain Allende unharmed, and Didi and Alesio alive.  But it was passing strange to be there, hear them exchange tales, hear Didi describe things that I had apparently done but could not remember, while I remembered things that none of them would recall.  I made my way through conversation very cautiously, trying to let them all talk so I could understand what had gone on.  The Captain congratulated me on my quick-thinking in the boarding action against the Dauphin, which had apparently saved the day.  I wanted to tell him: "If you only knew how I've bungled everything!"  I was thankful that aunt Lucia had drilled good manners into me, so I could avoid spilling my soup in startlement.

After the meal, the Captain asked Alesio and me to accompany him to his day cabin, and bosun McCorley to post a guard on the door.  This surprised me immensely, I had never known this kind of precaution to be used on the Hanged Man.  Bosun McCorley chose to stand guard at the door himself, and Captain Allende locked the door.  He then pulled out a small sea chest and opened it.  Inside, there were documents which looked very old: a book missing part of its binding and pages, maps, notes, all in a language I could not read.  From what Captain Allende had been able to decipher, they spoke of the island of Cabora, and pointed to its location in the Mirror Sea.

I was glad I was sitting, for the name filled me with dread.  I finally remembered that name, more of a legend than a place.  This is the Island of the Sunken Eye, supposed to have sunk beneath the waves many centuries ago.  But more importantly for me this is where the witch had talked about moving her thrice-damned knot.

Captain Allende said he needed to have these papers translated first, but he believed that if Reis and Caligari were interested in the island, they should be stopped.  He planned on mounting an expedition there, and asked if I wished to join him.  "I would beg you not to undertake it without me," I said, feeling very proud of myself for keeping the quaver from my voice.

For now, he must have his ship repaired.  He asked me to take Didi back to Castille with me, since he was entrusting her with a mission.  I acquiesced.

Upon leaving the Captain's cabin, I asked Alesio for a moment of her time.  I did not know if she would remember anything, or if she would understand any of the thousand questions I was bursting to ask.  I began cautiously: "Do you still plan on working out the knot from the tapestry you had been working on lately?"  Alesio looked at me warily, not sure if I was really talking about Fate Witch business.  I told her I had met a very old, very powerful Strega, who told me of this knot Alesio was trying to undo.  The first officer looked alarmed.  "I have not yet managed to discover where the knot is," she said.  "I don't know who..."  She stopped.

"Yes, you did," I answered too fast.  "You worked it out and got this witch tangled in it, but now she's moved it all to Cabora.  That's where the knot is now.  The Captain is in danger."

Now she really thought I was insane.  The more I tried to explain, the more agitated she grew, telling me that changes like that simply cannot be made.  When I said the witch had claimed to be able to reweave the tapestry, Alesio gasped.  "Morella?  But she's dead..."  I remembered the name of Mad Queen Morella, of the house of Lorenzo: a powerful Fate Witch who, six hundred years ago, had taken to altering the past to help her husband the king in his bid for power.  Something had gone wrong, and in a moment the entire island of Lorenzo, then southmost of the Vodacce Keys, had dissolved into nothingness with its thousands of inhabitants.  To this day, the sea still occasionally runs red in that area.

"This one is dead too," I sighed.  Bit by bit, I gave more details.  I described the witch who has styled herself as "long dead" and wore living threads for her dress, and the six hundred years old curse.  Alesio asked me to tell her the full story, right from the beginning.  I began with the version of the battle against the Crimson Roger as I remembered it, and she stopped me immediately, aghast.

"The Captain should hear this," she said.  Without leaving me time to add anything, she called him.  I wanted to fall through the deck.  How could she ask me to tell this ridiculous story in front of him?  I suggested meekly that we might want to return to his cabin to have this discussion.  There, I told the tale as baldly as I could, certain that it must be dismissed as the rantings of a liar or a madwoman.  I simply could not look the Captain in the face.

Alesio, sounding anguished, said she believed the story.  There was a weighty silence.  "Very well," said the Captain.  "The question is now whether anything can be done about this."

I mentioned two things that had caught my attention: the first was that the tales of Cabora and Lorenzo Island, both disappearing, seemed strangely similar to me.  The second was that the curse on Alesio's family, the "knot", dated six hundred years, placing it at the time of the most powerful Fate Witch ever known, Morella herself.  I suspected Morella of being the one to place the curse in the first place (perhaps explaining how she could be tangled into this?)  I felt certain that this knot of betrayal would be waiting again at Cabora.  I did not add that I would like us all to stay away from the Mirror for the rest of our hopefully long and boring lives.  It would not have come out right, I think.

We could think of nothing to do about it right now, so the Captain thanked me again with very kind words, Didi and I returned to the Maris Stella (Vincente had already been transferred to the Hanged Man's sickbay, accompanied by Rodrigo), and our ships parted company.  I stood there in the dark, watching the Hanged Man's sails disappear into the night.  When they were gone, Didi approached me with a letter; she said Captain Allende had asked her to deliver it at this time.  I thanked her and took the letter to the quarterdeck, so I could be alone to read it by the light of a storm lantern.

It was another love poem.  I sat there in the dark, exhausted, a wreck, too tired to go to my cabin; and I could only hold the sheet to my heart and shake.

Now we are sailing for Castille, and I know I will never be able to send you this letter after all.  Things have gotten much too complicated, and of course you will never have received my previous explanations so this letter would make no sense to you.  Perhaps some day, when we have time and two or three bottles of good wine, I will attempt to tell the tale; and when I spin it to its conclusion, you can look me straight in the eye and ask: "Did ya die?"  And I'll smile and answer, "Of course!" so we can both treat it as a sailor's tale.
 
 

Constanza