by Andre Norton
The Seakeep fleet weighed anchor with the first true light, each boat setting out upon her assigned course. Every vessel's route was so planned as to cross that of at least one other in several places, thus forming a reasonably tight mesh over the whole of the area to be searched.
The round tower's own craft joined with the others. There were two, slender, fast little ships very different from the heavy fishing boats used by the Dalesfolk. For all their seeming daintiness, however, they were strongly built and larger than most of the latter, and it was to these that the longest and most difficult and dangerous runs were given, those through the Ravenfield waters.
Tarlach would have preferred to use the Tern, for he judged her to be possessed of the greater speed and maneuverability, but she was much the bigger craft, and her place was farther out, beyond the sight of land.
Her superiority was but a matter of taste on their present mission, and he felt no qualm or real disappointment when he stepped aboard the Cormorant, giving his hand to steady Una, who crossed the narrow plank immediately after him.
He surreptitiously studied the Holdlady, seeking any sign that her own ordeal might have left upon her, but she seemed quite as well recovered as he. Only the bandages circling her hands remained as tangible evidence of what she had endured, and even these had been reduced to narrow strips hardly worth the noting.
They waited in the stern until the mountain spurs which had been so deadly to the Mermaid Fair had closed the harbor in behind them and then made their way to the prow, from there to keep their watch for the missing merchantman.
They would do so in Comfort. The Cormorant was the round tower's pleasure craft, and seats had been fastened to the deck with an awning raised above them so that the Holdruler could enjoy the freshness and beauties of the ocean and coastline without enduring discomfort from the strong sun.
The pair would not have to concern themselves at all with the handling of their vessel; her full complement of captain and four crewmen were aboard and would see to her needs and management. All were mature and well experienced, and all were male, a fact which Tarlach regarded with relief although he had the grace not to say as much to his companion.
At first thought, five hands seemed a large company for a ship this size, but she often made voyages of such duration as to require two watches, and occasionally part of her crew was needed to defend her, although it was the more aggressive Tern which actively sought out and battled pirates when packs attempted to establish themselves in the isolated region.
The mercenary's grey eyes fixed on the lands they were passing, great, towering cliffs crowned with green, and, above them, the greys and purples of the mountains.
Pain sharper than a sword thrust twisted his soul. Eventually, he must lose all this, go from it …
He did not realize how open was his grief until he felt the light touch of Una's fingers on the back of the hand he had unconsciously clenched on the rail and turned to find her looking upon him, not with pity, but with a sympathy as deep as all eternity.
“Surely, it need not be forever,” she said softly. “Seakeep will always be open to you.”
The man only shook his head.
“I shall not return once I leave here, Lady. To do so would but add to my torment.” He glanced back at the shore. “I want this land,” he whispered fiercely, “and never can that be for one such as I.”
The Daleswoman pressed him no further, and for a time, speech ended between them.
Both kept watching the waters around them for sign of the Dion Star although neither expected to find anything, not until they had crossed into the sea touching Ogin's domain.
Perhaps Rorick was right and they might find too much there, he mused. If the merchantman had come to grief either through the storm or through treachery, her cargo was still likely to be inviolate, assuming she had not gone under altogether. The wrecker, which would have to be a small ship, certainly no larger than Seakeep's Tern, would not have been able to unload her in the heavy seas of the last hours. They might well meet with her as she came for what her victim had carried.
His eyes slitted. What should be their response in that event? Under normal circumstances, they should be able to overpower her, for the Cormorant's crew were capable fighters as well as able seamen, but might it not be wiser to avoid conflict a while longer, to pretend ignorance as to the killer craft's nature? Ogin and his people certainly had every right to sail the ocean bordering their hold and every right to inspect a derelict discovered there, claiming what she contained should all those aboard her have perished.
They could not pretend to imagine the vessel was come out of Rosehilldale, Ravenfield's farther neighbor. That big domain was possessed of no harbors at all and had no fertile, sea-touched valleys. Thus, it had no ships.
“What is the Lord of Rosehill like?” he asked suddenly, feeling a little uncomfortable because he should have questioned her about the man long before, when he had interrogated her regarding the domain itself, but had failed to do so.
“A good man, both able and kindly in his ways. Markheim is quite young, but his youth has not damaged his Dale; it has prospered as well as any in the area under his rule, which began with his father's death two years ago.”
“Wed?”
“This last year and a half. His lady is now awaiting her woman's time, being greatly enwombed by him.” She smiled. “That seems strange in a way, for she looks scarcely more than a pretty child herself.”
Markheim has some solid reasons for not wanting any of this region's Dales to become a black wrecker's lair. It is a pity his seat is so far. We could use such an ally if Seakeep were badly pressed.”
“Aye,” she agreed grimly. “He would require three days’ forced march just to reach the Ravenfield stronghold—if it could be done in that time at all—rand longer still to come to our tower, and that only after a messenger had been received at Rosehill with word of our need.”
“He would come, though?”
“Of a certainty, His house and ours have always been more than passing close.”
The Falconer was silent only a moment.
“I think it is time that we speak with him,” he said slowly, “and with the other lords as well. Even if we discover nothing now, even if Ogin is completely innocent of all we suspect, Elfthorn's tale is proof enough when coupled with the recent increase in the disappearance of vessels that something is very wrong in this region. Seakeep does not have to work alone in eradicating that evil.”
Una nodded, her lovely face grave.
“Your suggestion is a sound one. We are so isolated here and so accustomed to depending upon none save our own selves that we sometimes fail to see the obvious solution to a problem when it requires active cooperation with our neighbors. A coalition such as you describe would bring the added benefit of powerfully discouraging aggression against any of us. Ogin would hardly invade one Dale when he knew he would merely be calling the united power of the others down upon himself.”
“Unless he struck quickly only to slaughter and then withdrew again, taking with him all clues to his identity.”
The woman looked at him sharply.
“You think he would act so?” she asked.
“A man capable of black wrecking?—If he is guilty of that, which I believe likely, and from what I saw of him in our admittedly brief meeting, aye, I think he could take that vengeance for your work against him, particularly if he managed or believed he managed to keep his name clear of taint and hoped to gain at least part of Seakeep's lands in the event you were all slain.”
They continued their discussion a long time, for the creating of a workable, efficient alliance among the far-lying, individualistic Dales was a complex task even in the preliminary discussion. Only when the sun reached its zenith and they observed that preparations for the midday meal were almost completed did they allow the matter to drop from their attention since they did not yet wish to reveal the full direction of their thoughts to th
eir companions, who would be eating with them in accordance with long-established custom aboard both of the round tower's vessels.
When the meal was finished, all returned to their duties.
Those were not heavy despite the seriousness of the Cormorant's mission, not yet at any rate. The gentle breeze and quiet sea made the mariners’ work light, and none of them anticipated either sighting the Dion Star or meeting with peril themselves while they remained so far within Seakeep's waters, which they must do for the remainder of this day. If for no other reason, they could not afford to forget the possible need of neighboring vessels because they sought for one particular ship, and the Cormorant would have to follow at least an approximation of the search pattern normally assigned to her in the aftermath of any major tempest. They maintained careful watch for their prime target, certainly, for storms show no respect for man's boundaries and might have broken the merchantman anywhere, but the pressure they would feel on the morrow did not grip them now.
Because a hunt such as that on which they were engaged could not be pursued with the world cloaked in darkness the small ship dropped anchor once night fell, and those who were not on the late watch retired to their resting places, cabins or crew's quarters.
The former were almost incredibly small, containing only a bunk and a sea chest, which also served as a bench.
Tarlach went below along with the others, although he would have been better pleased to remain longer outside; there might well be little opportunity for rest the, following night, too little to waste this. He left the door widely ajar, though, despite the damp chill of the night air. The tiny chamber otherwise far too closely resembled a tomb for either his liking or his peace of mind.
18
The day was not very old before the Seakeep vessel set out once more.
All the crew and the two passengers were on deck when her anchor was weighed and remained there although this was not nearly so warm or calm a morning as the last had been. There was a feeling of tension, of expectation, on them. They would cross the Ravenfield border about midmorning, and then …
All that morning, they watched the water and the coast for sign of the missing ship. The nature of the shoreline was changing rapidly, with the cliffs becoming ever steeper and more forbidding and places where an illegally acquired cargo might be landed ever scarcer. Such spots would soon vanish into almost nonexistent rarity, and Ogin could reasonably and easily have chosen to avail himself of the resources of this little-visited segment of his neighbor's Dale.
They found no indication of any such use, no hint whatsoever that their mission need be anything more than a gesture sparked by the humanity of Seakeep's people. That notwithstanding, the mercenary's heart leaped up in his breast when they founded a narrow, breathlessly steep finger of mountain very distinctive in its configuration. They had passed the Point of the Lords, the boundary between the domains of Una and Ogin. The shore now parallel to their course was Ravenfield's.
The Holdlady, who had been standing beside him at the rail, released the breath she had unconsciously held and deliberately turned her back on the land.
“Let us eat now,” she advised, “although it is still early. There is but one place of which I know on all the Ravenfield coast which would he a suitable lair for a wrecker vessel, and we are not very far from it.”
She had already described for him the cove to which she referred, a very narrow inlet leading to a cup of white sand, well sheltered and with easy access to the cliff tops far above. It would have been an admirable base for legitimate shipping, although its size precluded any large operation, but the entry channel was blocked in its center by a huge submerged rock called the Cradle from its form, which was revealed during the year's lowest tides. At all other times it lay concealed, an invisible, deadly menace to any vessel attempting to pass into the harbor.
No craft could sail over it. The two high points, the Headboard and the Foot, were only a few feet from the surface, the former being almost visible during ebb tide, and, since the rock lay lengthwise across the channel, only a very slender vessel—even the Tern would have been dangerously large for the attempt—could hope to bypass it.
Granting proper size and maneuverability and a daring crew familiar with the passage, however, a ship would be hard-pressed to find a more sheltered or secure port. She would be almost entirely invisible save to one looking directly into the inlet's constricted mouth,, and the high, closely encircling cliffs would break the killing force of nearly any wind, nearly any wave, even those generated by the terrible storm just ended.
Both Una's description and the map he had studied told him the cove was well concealed, but even so forewarned, the man had to quell an exclamation of surprise when the Cormorant rounded yet another of the seemingly endless mountain spurs to find himself staring into the natural refuge, or, rather, at something blocking the entrance to it, a badly listing derelict grounded upon the deadly Headboard of the Cradle.
She was big, considerably larger than the Mermaid Fair had been, and no sign of life was apparent either on her deck, the small part of it visible to them, or on the beach beyond.
It was the Daleswoman who broke the silence which gripped them all for several long seconds.
“Were they all swept?” she whispered.
“Perhaps,” he replied. “The impact, would have been bad, and she would not be getting full shelter out here. Any survivors would likely have gone ashore by this time anyway. The bay is dead calm, and the cliff is obviously easily scaled.”
The Cormorant‘s captain joined them.
“Not so, Bird Warrior. Aye, the beach is easily reached and the mountain climbed, but how would men strange to this region know where to go from there? Even if they could locate it, a vast wilderness separates this place from the nearest human habitation. They would not be supplied or equipped for such a journey, particularly if any of their company were injured. Were I in their place, I would hold my ground a while and hope for a search such as we do, in fact, conduct in the aftermath of so major a storm.
“Well reasoned,” Tarlach agreed. “They either perished to a man, then, or the survivors are still on the Dion Star.—The Lady Una and I shall board her at once. You shall remain on the Cormorant, Captain, with two of your men. The others are to come with us.”
The Seakeep vessel went in close to the wreck and stayed beside her until the four had gained her deck, then moved back, a safe distance away from the killer rock.
The deck of the Dion Star sloped so sharply that the members of the boarding party at first found it difficult merely to hold themselves in place, much less cross it. They soon gained their balance, but even then, all four preferred to keep handholds well within reach.
Tarlach more than any of them. It was only by the lash of his will that he was able to release his grasp on his support and force himself to stand erect. His mouth had gone as dry as if his tissues were shriveling for want of water, and his legs trembled so badly that he wondered if they would continue to bear him up.
He laughed at himself then, and all righted with him once more. This derelict might hot be an entirely secure refuge, but she was hardly that bit of a prow to which he had clung a few days previously.
A glance at Una told him she had not become aware of his momentary terror, and he turned to the work before him with good spirits.
The dead ship sloped directly toward the beach, away from the cove's mouth and the open sea, and the four had not left the rail very far behind before they were cut off completely from the sight of the Cormorant.
This did not entirely please the warrior, although it meant that his party would be screened from observation during most of their search. They would also be blind to approaching danger, and he was all too conscious of the fact that the wrecker could return at any time, at any moment.
Despite that danger, he hesitated to send Storm Challenger aloft. The bird's sharp eyes would give them good warning of any approaching vessel long before she came
near enough to threaten them, but sailors, too, were keen of sight, and the most of them were well familiar with the flight patterns of sea and shore birds. There would be no doubting the falcon's nature if he should be spotted in his turn. Even if he were too high and distant for the wreckers to distinguish his distinctive black-and-white plumage, it was likely they would be suspicious enough to investigate any raptor's presence near their lair with all possible speed. The hiring of the Falconer company by Seakeep's lady was well known, and men of the wreckers’ ilk would not like at all the thought that the mercenaries might be taking part in what was supposed to be a simple voyage of search and rescue. They would feel compelled to find out what, if anything, had been discovered about their own secret work.
His party would be forewarned of their coming and would easily avoid a confrontation, but harm would still have been done. Ogin would then be alerted that Seakeep's ruler was suspicious of him and that her suspicion was both accurate as to detail and ran very deep, and he would be a stark fool if he did not simply cease his activities until Una's blank shields had taken their leave of her. At that point, he would probably attack and reduce her Dale as Tarlach had suggested he might. Even if he did not go so far, he could still resume his attacks on shipping, secure in the knowledge that there was little his neighbor could do against him provided he acted with enough caution to give her no real or no good circumstantial evidence against him, at least until he grew so powerful that he no longer need fear her or any of the others.
That must not be allowed to happen. They had to keep the Lord of Ravenfield's sense of security intact, work and watch until his guilt could be confirmed and he and his killers be taken. If they could accomplish that now, or part of it, all the better.
Despite his acceptance of that necessity, the Falconer remained uneasy about keeping the war bird with him. They could be trapped all too easily… .