The monster hauled itself further on board, its many arms tangling around the ship, wrapping around the mast and spars as its great, ugly beak snapped close to Melcorka's face. She could see her reflection in the black mirrors of the creature's eyes.
'Mel!' Bradan shouted desperately, as the arms dragged him toward the beak.
Melcorka twisted Defender to the right, stabbing at the tentacle that held her arm. The point of the blade sunk into the rubbery substance and stuck there. Melcorka worked it right and left, enlarging the wound until the tentacle parted.
Gasping with relief, Melcorka yanked her arm free and, without hesitation, sliced right and left, using all her strength now that she knew how tough this monster's arms were. Grunting with satisfaction as first one and then another of the tentacles parted, Melcorka felt the sting where the creature's toothed suckers had wrapped around her waist.
'Get back to Hades!' she yelled, only to swear as she saw the creature dragging Bradan toward its terrible beak. One tentacle was around his thigh, another on his left arm while he swung his staff in futile attempts to break the creature's grip.
'Bradan!' Jumping over the wriggling tentacles and rowing benches, Melcorka lifted Defender high. 'I'm coming, Bradan.'
Fighting desperately against the strength of the creature, Bradan knew he was doomed. The monster's two glaring eyes surveyed him, its beak was open, ready to snap off his arms or head and all he had was his staff. He saw two more tentacles wrap around Melcorka and draw her back.
'Melcorka! Look out!'
Bradan did not mind dying; everybody had to die at some time. However, he did not want to die and be eaten by some multi-armed monster from beneath the sea. Lifting his staff, he thrust it with all his force into the creature's left eye. The beast did not flinch as the end of the staff bounced off the eyeball. The beast prepared to bite, and Bradan saw that the inside of its beak was lined with a double row of inward-pointing teeth. Once that thing closed on him, he would never escape.
Then Melcorka was at Bradan's side, slicing at the tentacles with Defender, before hacking uselessly at the creature's right eye with the point of the blade. The creature's remaining arms curled up and it withdrew from Catriona with a massive splash, sending water cascading into the wildly tossing ship.
'It's gone! Thank the gods!' Bradan gasped.
'What was it?' Melcorka held Defender ready in case the creature returned.
'Some monster from the furthest deeps of the sea,' Bradan said. 'I'll wager that the volcano spewed it up.'
'The volcano was weeks ago and hundreds of miles away!' Melcorka paced the length of the ship, sword held ready. 'I've never seen anything so ugly in my life, or fought anything so strong.' She shook her head. 'I stuck Defender into its eye as hard as I could, and it just bounced off. Defender bounced off!' Melcorka lowered her voice and stared at the still-disturbed water. 'That's never happened before.'
'Be thankful the creature has gone,' Bradan said. 'You chased it off and saved my life.' He touched Melcorka's arm. 'Thank you. Now, look at yourself. That thing has opened cuts all over your arms and legs.'
'You're the same.' Melcorka pointed to the blood that seeped down Bradan's legs. 'We'll have to patch up the wounds before they fester.'
'Do you think it will return?' Bradan lifted one of the tentacles. 'Yeuch, this thing is disgusting! Look at these teeth!' Shuddering, he threw it over the side. 'Come on, Mel, let's get the ship cleaned up.'
'I hope it comes back because I want to kill it.' Melcorka wiped thick, clear liquid from Defender. 'Look at this, Bradan. It doesn't even bleed. I've never seen a creature that doesn't bleed.'
'Let's hope we never see it again.' Bradan felt himself shaking with delayed reaction. 'I don't like monsters of any sort.'
With the deck cleansed of the tentacles and scrubbed with sea water, Melcorka and Bradan tended to each other's wounds.
'Seawater to clean them and cloth to stop the bleeding,' Melcorka said and gave a high-pitched laugh that had Bradan looking sideways at her.
'Are you all right, Mel?'
'I want to kill that monster. I like to kill things.' Melcorka laughed again.
'No, Mel. No, you don't.' Bradan took hold of her arms. 'You don't like to kill things. This is not like you, Mel.'
Melcorka pushed him away. 'Where are we?' She had not paid much attention to her surroundings since the volcano erupted, being content to sit in the bows and stare at the sea, or take her turn on a rowing bench. Now, she looked around, seeing choppy blue seas, diamond-sparkled by the sun, with a distant bank of white cloud.
'We're not where we want to be, anyway.' Bradan stepped to the tiller. 'That volcano pushed us far to the south and east, and we've been heading roughly north and east ever since.' He looked upward. 'We're in the torrid zone still, a long way from Alba, that's for certain.'
'I can get used to the heat.' Melcorka stretched out in the bows and looked sideways at Bradan. 'It's fun lying about doing nothing.'
'You've always hated doing nothing,' Bradan said. 'You like to be active.'
'Not any more,' Melcorka said. 'I feel like being lazy now and letting the world drift along.' She pointed to the horizon. 'That mist is getting closer.'
White and clinging, the mist circled Catriona. Within an hour, it had slithered over the ship, breaking into long tendrils that flew from Catriona's mast like ripped flags.
'The mist has hidden the sun. I can't see through this muck.' Melcorka flapped a hand in a vain effort to clear away the mist. 'Tell it to go away, Bradan. I have no idea what's out there.'
'It could be anything – more sea monsters, more volcanoes, more savage Kalingo, or even the friendly traders of the Chola Empire.' Bradan half furled the sail. 'We'll move slowly in case there is land nearby, or some other danger.'
Melcorka stretched again, sighed and took control of the tiller. 'Get on the oars, Bradan, and I'll manage the sail and the steering.'
A seabird called, the sound echoing eerily through the fog, while the occasional wave lapped over the low gunwale. Melcorka watched Bradan's long, lean body as he sat on the rowing bench and took the oars. Years of rowing and travelling had created a man of firm muscles without an ounce of spare fat. Although Melcorka had been his companion for some years, she did not know how old he was. He seemed ageless, as if he had always been the same and always would be. She mused over him, smiling as she hummed a small song her mother had sung to her as a child.
'Over there! To the left!' Melcorka pointed with her chin. 'I'm sure I saw land.'
Bradan squinted narrow-eyed into the mist. 'I can't see anything. What was it like?'
'White,' Melcorka said. 'Pure white, like snow. Maybe we're back in Greenland with the Norse and the Skraelings and the Ice King.'
'It's too warm for Greenland,' Bradan said.
'Look!' Melcorka pointed again. 'I'm sure that I can see white land.'
Bradan twisted to see over his shoulder. 'I've heard that the south coast of Britain has white cliffs, but we're not sufficiently far north. We are thousands of miles from Britain.'
Melcorka shrugged. 'Well, I don't know.'
'Something's happening, Mel,' Bradan said. 'Look.'
The mist lifted, leaving Catriona bobbing on an azure sea that sparkled under the caress of the sun. A mile to starboard, something white gleamed on an otherwise unbroken, hazed horizon.
'I've never seen a pure white island before.' Bradan lifted his staff and tapped it on the deck. 'It's another new thing.'
'You like new things, Bradan,' Melcorka said. 'You want to land there, don't you?' She altered the angle of the tiller, steering toward the island even as she spoke.
Bradan nodded. 'The Chola Empire can wait. It will still be there tomorrow. We may never sail this way again, and a pure white island is intriguing.'
Riding light, Catriona eased across the waves. Melcorka shook out the single square sail, and they closed with the island.
'It's not all white,' Bradan
said, as they came within half a mile of it. 'There is a copse of trees back there.'
'It's sand,' Melcorka said. 'It's pure white sand.'
'I had hoped for something more unusual.' Bradan voiced his disappointment. 'Take the sail in, Mel, we're about to land.'
Catriona hissed onto a gently shelving beach where the sea kissed soft white sand. 'I've never seen sand this colour.' Bradan jumped onto the beach and looked around. 'It's warm and pristine. There's not a shell, not a stone, no tide-wrack, not a footprint. There are no birds and no insects. This is the strangest island I have ever seen.'
'Help me haul Catriona further up,' Melcorka said, and they pulled the boat a few yards away from the lapping waves. 'You're right, Bradan. There's no high-tide mark, no fringe of seaweed, no line of coconuts or other refuse of the sea. There's not even a breeze to skiff the surface of the sand.'
'We're being watched,' Bradan said. 'I can feel it.'
Melcorka glanced at him. 'Hostile-watched, or curious-watched?'
'I can't tell yet.' Bradan thrust his staff into the sand. It sunk deep. He thrust further until the body of the staff disappeared. 'There's no bottom here. The sand goes on forever. Don't look at the trees, Mel. I think there's somebody there.'
Melcorka turned her back to the trees and stared along the length of the beach. 'There's nothing here except the trees,' she said. 'No buildings, no rocks, no water, no hills. This is a desert island indeed.'
'I don't think the watcher is unfriendly,' Bradan said. 'I can't feel anything unfriendly.'
Melcorka smiled and tapped the hilt of her sword. 'I have a cure for hostility.'
'There is no need for that.' Bradan shook his head. 'Even since you fought the Kalingo, you have been too keen to use Defender.'
'I am the Swordswoman,' Melcorka said.
'You are more than that,' Bradan reminded her. 'You wait here, and I'll walk up to the trees. If I need you…'
'If you need me, I'll be at your side,' Melcorka said. 'I am not letting you walk up to any foreign man alone. If need be, I have this.' She tapped Defender again.
'Try not to kill anybody, Mel.' Bradan lengthened his stride and headed for the trees. A breeze eased up, keeping conditions pleasant without lifting even the surface of the sand. They walked on, feet sinking deeply, yet after a few moments of steady walking, the copse seemed no closer. Bradan turned around. Catriona lay where they had left her, smaller with distance.
'A man is sitting amidst the trees,' Melcorka said. 'I can see him as plainly as I see you.'
'I see him.' Bradan tapped his staff on the sand. 'He's watching us.' He raised his staff. 'Halloa there!' His voice faded in the vast spaces around them. The man did not respond.
'I'll try,' Melcorka said. Cupping her hands around her mouth, she shouted, 'Can you hear us? If you hear us, raise a hand!'
'They don't speak Gaelic around here, remember,' Bradan said. 'I'll try Latin.' He shouted again, with the words sounding harsh and guttural to Melcorka's ear. The man remained sitting.
'How old would you say he was?' Bradan asked.
'About thirty,' Melcorka guessed.
Bradan nodded. 'He's all alone, I think.' He looked around. The whiteness stretched from the soft surf of the shore to the still-distant trees, and all around the island. There was only sand, a circuit to adorn the nodding palms.
'Something's wrong here,' Melcorka said. 'There are no houses, no other people, no ships except Catriona, and no bird or insect life. Who is that man and how did he get here? How does he survive?' She lengthened her stride. 'Come on, Bradan, we have a mystery to solve.'
They broke into a trot, and then a full run until their legs ached and their lungs burned, without closing the distance to the lone man at the copse of static palms.
'Stop,' Bradan gasped, clutching at Melcorka's arm. 'We're getting nowhere here.'
'You're right,' Melcorka said. They stood side by side, breathing in agonised gasps. 'Look around us, Bradan.'
The sea lapped against the beach a few yards behind them, where Catriona lay with her mast slanting sideways and her prow facing the still-distant palms. 'We've moved backwards since I last looked,' Bradan said.
'So I see,' Melcorka said. 'We're no closer to the copse than we were when we started.'
'This island is not normal,' Bradan said. 'It is either enchanted or accursed and either way, it is best if we were not here.' He gestured to the man sitting under his palm trees. 'Whatever that is, wizard, warlock, magi or druid, it has powers that we cannot match.'
'We'll get back to sea then.' Melcorka jerked her head toward Catriona. 'This is an adventure that I have no wish to repeat.'
Catriona seemed eager to leave. She slid easily down the sand into the water as Bradan and Melcorka pushed her. They jumped in together, with Melcorka taking the tiller as Bradan hoisted the sail.
'At least you have got some energy back,' Bradan said.
'The wind is from the south-west.' Melcorka did not respond to his words. 'Angle the sail to catch it.'
'Look,' Bradan pointed ahead. 'The island has moved.'
A hundred yards in front of them, the white sands of the island stretched out on either side. Astern of Catriona was only sea.
'This is uncanny.' Bradan rubbed his thumb across St Columba's cross that was carved into the tip of his staff.
'That man is still there.' Melcorka altered the angle of the tiller. 'Time we were not.'
The copse of trees seemed only a few hundred paces away, with the man stationary at the edge. There was no trace of their footprints on the beach.
'Hoist all sail,' Melcorka said. 'If we can't get away, we'll fight. Ram the island.'
'We can't sink an island,' Bradan said.
'Get on the oars and pull with all your strength,' Melcorka's eyes narrowed. 'We can't walk to that man, so let's try to sail to him. If he's there at all.'
'If he's there at all?' Bradan repeated.
'We have seen armies before, where none existed.' Melcorka joined Bradan at the oars, sending Catriona surging forward. 'That man could be an illusion, a trick of the mind, a conjurer's image and so could the island.'
'As you wish.' Securing the sail in place, Bradan hauled as hard as he was able, grunting with effort. Catriona thrust into the sea, her sharp prow raising a bow-wave, and then she rammed hard onto the sand.
Melcorka gasped as the impact threw her backwards. Bradan tumbled on top of her and the oars were thrown into utter confusion.
'That feels solid enough.' Melcorka dragged herself up, feeling for broken bones.
'The island is unaltered.' Bradan pointed to the copse of trees, where the man sat, unmoving, watching them.
'What do you want?' Melcorka shouted. 'What do you want of us?'
'We come in peace,' Bradan roared. 'We only want to talk to you.'
The man still did not move as, once again, Melcorka and Bradan strode forward, with their feet sinking into the white sand and the copse remaining the same distance from them.
'Look behind you,' Bradan said. 'We're making an impression.'
Their footsteps were distinct in the sand, stretching backwards, but every time they stepped forward, the imprint nearest to Catriona faded and vanished.
'This man is a magician,' Melcorka said. 'And the only cure for a magician is this!' She unsheathed Defender with a slither of steel on leather. As always, she felt the thrill as the power and skill of all the previous holders of the sword coursed from the hilt through her hands and arms and into her body. 'Now, let us see how good he is.'
'He has not attacked us,' Bradan said.
'Just as well for him.' Melcorka lifted Defender above her head. 'You there! Magician! We came in peace, and you have played with us. Greet us fairly, or by my sword, I will part your head from your body.'
For the first time, the man showed some emotion. He smiled, sitting cross-legged amidst the palm trees, naked except for a minuscule loincloth.
Bradan looked around. They were no
w only five yards from the man, yet he had not moved since Melcorka drew Defender. 'How did we get here?'
'Magic.' Melcorka tightened her grip on Defender. 'Look behind us.'
Twin sets of footprints extended from Catriona to the copse, unbroken save where falling fine sand was blurring the edges of each print. The air was still, without a hint of a breeze.
'Who are you?' Bradan asked.
The man spoke without moving. 'Who I am does not matter. Who are you, man-with-a-staff, and why do you come to my home?'
Bradan gave a little bow. 'Well met, man of this island. I am Bradan the Wanderer from Alba. I seek knowledge of places and people unknown to me. My companion is Melcorka nic Bearnas, also from Alba. Nic means daughter of, so she is Melcorka, the daughter of Bearnas.'
'Well met, Bradan the Wanderer from Alba.' The man did not move. 'Knowledge is a powerful tool and one that can be used to help or to injure.'
'That is so, man-with-no-name,' Bradan agreed.
'I do not like talking to a man with no name,' Melcorka said. 'Who are you?'
The man remained still. 'More importantly, my Lady of the Sword, is who you are.'
'I am Melcorka nic Bearnas, of the Cenel Bearnas from Alba.' Melcorka said. 'Bradan has already told you that.'
'Bradan told me your name,' the man corrected gently. 'He did not tell me who you are.'
Melcorka took a deep breath. She did not like people interrogating her, or playing word games. 'People call me Melcorka the Swordswoman.' Melcorka lifted Defender higher. She thought she saw something else beside the man, somebody indefinable, a shimmering black-and-white light between the boles of the trees.
'Melcorka the Swordswoman.' The man nodded. His eyes were older than his body, deep and wise and serene. 'You are a woman who lives by violence and delights to kill.'
'I have no delight in violence, nameless man. I only kill when it is necessary.'
'Meet yourself,' the man with no name said. 'You are coming to see me, as you did and as you are.'
'Turn around,' Bradan murmured. He placed a hand on Melcorka's arm. 'Hold your temper in check, Mel.'
Melcorka Of Alba Page 4