by Andre Norton
“Have we been as mountain sheep led to market?” For certainly to some powers rumored alert in the past we might well be as the stupid grazers of mountain meadows.
“If so,” and he was hot denying that thought of mine, “we have yet to see the shepherd. Though we may not be far now from where such may abide—”
There was a sound which brought my hand up, blade drawn and ready, only to know that Orsya was climbing back out of the sea, again able to abide in the air for a space. She clambered aboard and Kemoc picked up her cloak to toss it about her shoulders. While I saw the motions in the dark which I knew was her shaking her hair to rid it of the water.
“There is emptiness below,” she said. “Life is not here, neither wearing fins nor shells, neither creeping on the floor nor swimming. It is a place in which fear has hunted and gone, leaving nothing behind.”
So she set a seal on our unease. Nor did she and Kemoc go back below, but We three dropped to the deck together to remain—not on guard perhaps, but waiting—and for what we could not tell.
Morning broke again with a dull sky, no Sun to break away that greyness. We came slowly up to the islands the falcon had reported. There was no green growth on them; they were barren rock with traces of the sea still set as if they had been raised from the depths, and not too long ago.
Again we missed birds; such isles as these in the north provided, nesting places, oft time so thick with birds defending their own territory that there, was fighting among them and the screams and squalls keeping up an ever rancorous clamor. Here the land might be long dead and with no life touching it. As Captain Harwic had done before us we chose two of the fishing smacks to do the exploring, selecting picked crews for them with Falconers for in-fighting if the need arose. In one I was at the bow. Sigmun might not trust me, but since I was favored by the Lady Jaelithe, he could not protest and all of us were well aware that this was not just a matter of sight and sound but also of the talent. The lady herself and Lord Simon were to the fore in the other boat, but Kemoc and Orsya remained with the ship as our common linkage.
Before we pushed off I was startled by a leap from the upper deck and Chief joined me, once more crowding past to take his place at the very point of the bow. There was a linesman who heaved over a weight and called out the clearage existing below, and the captain of the craft stood by the wheel as intent on those calls as we were in surveying the islands.
We had chosen the eastern way, while the other craft headed for the western sprawl of islands, Both craft moved by oars rather than trusting to breeze here. Adjusting our course by the soundings, we swung around the tapering end of the first island. I felt nothing of that which had striven to touch us in the night. The world was as empty to my mind seeking as it was to sight and ear.
But we were barely past the reef which pushed out from that island when we sighted the first proof that we were not the first to venture here. Piled up, its bow lifted high on reef rocks, was the remains of a ship. Its broken sides Were patterned with barnacles and there was other encrustation which argued that it had been brought up from the sea after a long immersion. To my eye the design of it was strange. The small square ports, showing along its near side which was upturned to the sky, suggested that, large as it appeared, it had depended mainly on oars.
We did not approach it closer, but it held attention for most of us until we were well by. Certainly it was a warning that one went this course with caution. The leadsman's voice rang ever louder as we left that reef and its burden behind.
There were other islands ahead. Also that distant line indicating the coast of the mainland appeared to be moving east, as if throwing out an arm to encircle these blasted isles. The next two islands were smaller but—save they lacked a warning wreck—were no different in general appearance from the first.
It was as we drew closer to the next, and that was clearly the largest we had sighted—that Chief growled deep in his throat. While I stared at that mound of rock hunting sight of anything which might explain his unease.
My skin had begun to tingle oddly. There was a shimmer which came and went as I watched those rocks. Twice I passed my hand across my eyes as if I would sweep aside some veil. Now I heard exclamations from the crew behind me. The three falcons which had accompanied their battle-comrades uttered ear-tormenting shrieks.
I waved eastward with my hand, hoping that the captain would obey that gesture and take us farther from what seemed now to be wild scatter of rocks. As I had marked at daybreak this was a morning without sun yet from between two of those ridge rocks on the island came a glint like that of light upon well-burnished metal.
One of the Falconers sent his bird aloft. It spiraled about, well above the dark blot of the island. The communicating device which the birds wore should pass a message of what might be there—for clearly it was not the black-grey rock which caused that patch of light.
As we veered out of line with that, I became aware that the prickling of my skin lessened. It was as if that spot had been hurling out in our direction some unseen assault which had manifested itself so.
“There is a thing of metal there.’’ The Falconer whose bird was scouting moved up beside me. “It is not like anything Warwing has sighted before. He will not go closer for he fears it.”
“Perhaps some defense,” I returned. Knowing that anything which one of the war birds of the Falconers would avoid must indeed be a danger.
“Defense for what?” Since I was a woman it was odd that one of the Falconers would even notice me enough to ask that.
Defense for what was right. There was no sign, save for that long-ago wreck, to tell us that any had ever been before us on such a journey. I could no longer sight that glint among the rocks, but still I felt the prickle of skin, the sensation that there was a-lying in wait a threat to us. The reef into which the island turned stretched well out and we edged along, depending upon the leadsman.
More islands ahead—and something else! I heard an exclamation from the Falconer who still kept his position beside me, although his bird had come in to his wrist. At first sight that which broke the wash of the waves was only another of the rock mounds.
Only nature had not formed this one. It was foursquare, fitting exactly the rock, on which it was so firmly foundationed, to the very water's edge. I knew well the age-old towers of Estcarp, and had seen many scattered remains which outdated even those across the sea in the land from which the Old Ones had long gone. None of those gave such a feeling of the far past, and of the alien as this.
To our sight, from the sea, there were no cracks in the four square walls, nothing to indicate that it had suffered from either blows of nature or of time. The huge stones which formed it were still cunningly set, and the lines of the two walls visible to us were broken only by what must have been left by the builders to serve as windows, dark oval hollows.
Those were all on the upper part of the building. At ground level there were no breaks in the surface at all. Entrance must have come from above. The stone from which it was wrought differed from that of the island foundation. It was smooth, unpitted, and in color a rusty red—almost, my thought supplied, the shade of dried blood. The roof which arose three stories above the sea was crenelated, the narrow embrasures perhaps intended for usage by archers.
Our craft did not change course to approach it closer. Nor did any of us suggest exploration. One of the falcons arose again to bear to our companion in exploration the news of what we had found. I studied it closely. There was that which suggested at any moment there might be a face showing in one of those blind eyes of windows, or that we would hear the whistle of an arrow, such as those of Karsten use for hunting, the snick of a dart, released to warn us off. I longed to probe but knew better. Such an invasion might well awaken something which time had lulled into a stupor.
We carried on, past the tower island. Ahead was a scattering of smaller lumps of barren rock. Farther yet lay an unbroken dark line across the horizon which could on
ly mark, I was sure, the swing of the shore farther eastward into some cape or arm of another bay as that on which Varn had taken root.
We counted four of these lumps dotting the water, and two of them were surrounded by treacherous underwater reefs, so that we had to ledge farther and farther west in order to avoid them. I think that none of us liked thought of that silent fortress behind us, nor the mysterious guardian which Chief had first sighted on the other island.
The silence of this part of the sea was oppressive. Yes, there was the wash of the waves, and the small sounds we ourselves made on board, but the wind had dropped and the single sail of our craft hung limp, also the absence of birds continued.
Just as my mind fastened upon that there was indeed a sound from overhead. Not the scream of a falcon but a hoarse, hacking call. There had come, seemingly out of nowhere, to hang above us one of those flying horrors which had harried Varn. One of the Falconers launched his bird and that spiralled up to hang above the dark noisome thing which made a landing on our mast, clinging to the very tip of that seemingly by some hook claws in its wings. It screeched and made grimaces at us, paying no attention to the falcon which indeed sheared off, not dropping upon it for a kill as one might expect it to do.
The Theffan instead gave all its attention to us. Chief growled deep in his furred throat and left my side, slinking along, belly fur brushing the deck, until he was immediately below the thing's mast perch. Then he gave the scream of rage his kind would utter when faced by a deadly enemy. One of the Sulcar took aim and fired a dart. The thing, with an incredibly swift twist of body, almost escaped injury. However, the dart cut through a bit of the leathery wing, pinning it fast to the mast while the thing shrieked and thrashed, striving to win free.
There was a froth dripping from its jaws. I thought of venom and was about to urge the crew back, for several had joined Chief at the foot of the mast, when he who captained our expedition warned them off.
Dark blood spattered at each wing jerk, then the creature tore loose. It strove to mount, the falcon flying in wary rings just out of reach, but the tear in the wing seemed to prevent that. Fighting hard for altitude it coasted instead down toward the sea, but with a last effort it won to a hard landing on one of the rocky islets. It was screaming with rage and pain and its clamor filled the air. The falcon circled, and then swiftly it checked the second round of its flight and came arrow true back to its comrade.
Though the first of the winged things had appeared so suddenly, we had warning of the coming of its fellows. They skimmed in from the south as a flock, giving voice to cries as they swept down at the ship. Then we were fighting, striving to defend ourselves from these flying menaces. Swords scored as they swung upward, but I heard one man scream and saw him put hand to eyes, blood spurting between his fingers. Two dropped for Chief and, I think, would have taken him aloft. I cut the head of one from its hunched shoulders and the same blow continued on to slice at one of the other's wings. For some reason they did not come at me straightly as they flew at the others. I did not have time to think of anything but the fight at hand. The Falconer? in their mail, and those helms with the metallic throat veils, were better prepared for them. Two stood one on either side of the wheelman, using sword and shield not only to protect themselves but in addition see that no harm reached him.
There was a scream piercing enough even to sound through the cries of our attackers. I saw the leadsman fall into the water. Twice I struck out at the enemy to reach the rail and then went over after him.
The water was murky and warmer than I expected to find it. But I got my one hand on the collar of the fellow's stiff shirt and brought his head up far enough for him to get a full breath.
We must keep afloat on our own, for there was perhaps no one on board who had seen our swift exit from the fight, or had time to drop us a rope. The smooth side of the ship offered no handhold—our nearest chance was one of those dots of rock which were part of the sprawl of small islands. Towing the crewman I headed for the nearest. Sulcars swim as well as any fish—or that is their boast. With most of their lives spent at sea, that was part of their heritage. But the one I now companied made only feeble efforts to aid himself. At least he had not clutched me in full panic.
I encountered rock sharp enough to tear through one leg of my breeches and felt the teeth of that outcrop even more as I dragged myself up to a position from which I could turn and pull the other behind me. He no longer made any effort to help himself and I found it an almost impossible task to get him out of the water, lying on his back. His eyes were open but fixed on the sky above as if he were aware of nothing. There was a long wound reaching from forehead to jaw along one cheek. That bled the more with every movement his supine body made as I tried to drag him higher. On his throat was a second gap in the flesh and that oozed freely. I put fingers to that and strove to halt the loss of blood while I looked up and around to sight the ship.
I had not thought that our straggle in the water had brought us so far but the craft where the battle still raged was a good way from our perch. Now I eyed the air for any of the horrors who might have left the greater engagement to make sure of the two of us. Luckily there were no stragglers, the pack of them appeared fully engaged at the ship.
My attention snapped back to my fellow in misfortune. Though his eyes still stared unblinkingly aloft, his face was convulsed by a grimace and I saw that the blood now rising in his head wound was darker, almost black, also it had thickened. That which I was trying to staunch on his throat was also dark. His hand arose from his side, fist clenched, to beat at the air, so I had to release my hold on the throat wound and struggle with him to keep his body from sliding off into the water again. His legs jerked and kicked. Yet he uttered no sound, nor did he look to me.
His mouth fell open and breath whistled out. Then his head arose a few inches from the rock only to thud back again, as, with that, his arm loosened and his feet did not move. He was dead—though neither wound should have been deep enough to let out his life. That the creatures we fought had the power of using venom as a weapon was so proven.
I stood up, steadying myself as best I could on the very uneven surface of that islet. The craft was even farther away and I could hear shouts and cries from it, making plain that the battle was still in progress.
My own position was totally exposed. Even if the flying horrors were beaten off, and I did not doubt that they would be, those retreating could well head for me and make sure that another of their enemies would be taken care of.
On the other hand to take to the sea again and swim for the ship would not be an answer, unless those on board were aware of my difficulties and could drop me a line. The perch which I now shared with the dead was a small one; it might even be more awash with the coming of the tide.
I looked towards the larger island to the north, one we had just passed when this attack had been sprung. It was guarded by reefs and no ship landing could be made there.
To the south then?
Reefs again, for now many of these showed above water. Those led almost like stepping stones to another and much larger island. I stooped and drew the body up as well as I could, leaving as much of it out of the water as possible. A Sulcar fighting crewman deserved a Sulcar funeral and perhaps we would later be able to give him such.
Then I stooped and washed my hands vigorously in the water. I must rid myself of the thick, poisoned blood. Having done this I looked ahead south. There was an expanse of water before the rise of the reef which I hoped would lead me to a firm place of refuge. I slipped into the sea and started to swim for that bit of water-washed rock.
13
Almost, except for the effort I must expend, this was like crossing a stream by stepping stones. Each time I pulled out of the water on a point of reef or an islet I looked for the ship. Always its course was farther away from the source of my own troubles. I saw no falcon rising from the air-ship battle. Had those valiant comrades been wiped out by the monsters
as had happened with the birds at Varn?
This was a grey day wherein we had dueled with those aerial horrors and now rain came, fine as a mist but enough to slick down even those rocks above wave level, making it necessary to carefully watch one's footing. Mine was a painful progress now. As all on shipboard in such heat I had discarded sea boots for loose sandals. Those had been lost in my dive overboard. I could thank past poverty now for the fact that I had often, through lack of supplies, gone barefoot on land, so that the soles of my feet were calloused into nearly the same toughness as a boot. Though walking across the broken ridges of these islets had been and was growing more so a painful experience.
The water of the sea stung all small grazes into life. On my third emergence I shed my jerkin, worried a ripped seam to a great hole and so made clumsy coverings for my feet.
When I crawled out at last on the large island which had been my goal I stumbled and limped to the highest point within the immediate vicinity to look for the ship. Some current of which we had not been aware must have seized upon it while the battle was in progress, as it had been borne even farther to the east and even appeared adrift. Had the monster attack so thinned defenders that the ship could no longer make any headway, was as lost as the derelicts? Could all on board be … dead?
The swift death from poison which I had seen the leadsman suffer—was that the fate of all? Surely if any Falconer still lived his bird would be aloft, seeking—
Then, for the first time, my assurance was badly shaken. Had anyone seen my plunge overboard? Or if they had, would I now be deemed dead? That possibility had not crossed my mind—now it fastened tight in my thoughts. I wondered if I dared try send contact. Any of those on board whom I could picture in mind would serve as a target but, on the other hand none that I knew of were trained to receive. The Falconers had such a hatred for the Witches that they built, during the generations they had lived on the fringe of Estcarp, shields against any such touch. I might be able to contact one of the Sulcar—