In the meantime, Cerulean had made his way to the flapping sail Ren had pointed to and was trying to get hold of it by grasping the untied end with his teeth. He had probably pulled the stay loose when he tried to trample the mercenary, and now he was doing his best to make up for his clumsiness.
Not waiting for Tarl to respond to her treatment, Shal went to Cerulean's aid. She was no whiz at knot-tying, but she did her best to secure the sail. Just as soon as she got it pulled taut into place, the whole sail filled with a gust of wind, and the small ship shot forward. Looking back, Shal could see that the Black Watch's schooner had indeed gotten closer. In fact, it was rapidly approaching arrow range despite the ferry's increased pace.
Shal glanced quickly at Tarl. He hadn't moved. By the gods, she hoped he'd be all right-and soon. For the moment, she did her best to focus her thoughts on the approaching vessel and the magic she would need to stop it. The Weather spells were still the freshest in her mind. She let her body sway gently with the slight rocking motion of the boat. Then she let herself feel the uneven surging and gusting of the southern crosswind. Finally, with a gesture and the mouthing of a spell, she caught the unexpelled force within the gentle wind in the space between her two hands, expanding the force and channeling it away from herself. She directed it to push at the waters surrounding the approaching schooner. Restless waves rolled up from the calm surface of the water, and the entire expanse of sea between the schooner and the ferry began to roil and churn.
Shal pushed with her left hand and pulled with her right, pushed with her left hand and pulled back with her right, over and over again. She watched as the schooner began to spin involuntarily, in the beginnings of a whirlpool. A feeling not unlike electricity tingled up and down Shal's spine, and she relished the sensation of power. Magical power, her magical power, was controlling the very wind and the waves, causing a whole boat to turn round and round. She continued to push with one hand and pull back with the other, push and pull back, faster and faster. She started to repeat the words of the spell, saying them even louder so she could hear herself over the whining wind and the distant screams of the men on the schooner.
Then she felt strong hands grab her from behind, and Tarl's shout broke her concentration. "No! Stop!" He pulled her around to face him. "Don't kill my brothers! There's no need to kill them!"
Shal stared at him, taken aback by his regained strength, but not comprehending his message at all.
Cerulean nosed in and blocked the cleric, pushing him back with his body. Shal took up the spell where she had left off. The waters hadn't stopped swirling. A few movements of her hands and the water was churning with renewed ferocity. The schooner swirled crazily and within minutes disappeared nose-first into the growing spiral. The whirlpool swallowed the boat like a giant maw gulping down an insect. Then the swirling stopped, but the water continued to froth and boil.
Shal spun around and quickly ran to Tarl, who was sitting on the deck behind Cerulean. She squatted beside him and held his face in her hands and made him look at her. "Are-are you okay, Tarl? Do you know where you are?"
"I'm… sorry," said Tarl, rubbing his head with both hands. "I was dreaming… about the graveyard. It was so real… The vampire was standing right there." Tarl pointed at the rail along the stern, where Shal had been standing only moments before. He killed them… my brothers, one after another. He wouldn't stop killing! I'm… sorry."
"Hey, it's all right, Tarl. Are you sure you're okay now? Really okay?"
"I… I guess I am." Tarl held his hand out to Shal and started to stand. "I feel completely rested, as if I hadn't used my clerical powers in days. I'm just jittery from the nightmare. Is your shoulder all right?"
Shal didn't get a chance to answer because both she and Tarl turned as one when the captain shouted, "Sail's loose again!" and they leaped like a team for the wayward piece of cloth. Unfortunately the winds were wilder than they had been, stirred even at this distance from the whirlwind force Shal had generated, and the sail flapped high, slapping loudly against itself. It slipped teasingly down and then flapped up again before they could catch it.
It took several tries before Shal caught hold of the sail. Tarl retied the knot, and they went to the bow of the boat, where Ren was securing another guy wire at the captain's direction. As before, once the sail was secured, it filled gloriously, and the small ship scudded forward at a brisk pace.
The captain had steered wide to avoid the still-blackened waters at the mouth of the Stojanow River, and now the ferry was finally approaching the opposite shore.
"You'll be wantin' to debark in a hurry," said the captain, addressing Ren. "You can be certain if a ship of the Black Watch goes down, there'll be more followin'. There's no way I can anchor. I'm afraid that horse is gonna break a leg tryin' to make it down to the water. How'd it get on here, anyhow?"
"The same way he'll get off," answered Shal, pointing to the cloth at her belt.
I'll try the gangplank, the horse argued.
And what? Dive off it? Shal pursed her lips, stared him down, and pointed once more. With no further complaints, Cerulean dove in.
"Well, I'll be!" The captain looked in awe at Shal. "I thought that little storm ye whipped up was pretty fancy, but makin' a horse disappear into your belt-well, that's some magic!" He wagged a finger at the three of them and said, "Now, get offa my boat while the gettin's good. The water here should be about ten foot deep, so its safe to dive."
Shal quickly added some of their gear to the Cloth of Many Pockets, then she, Ren, and Tarl dived overboard and swam for shore.
The captain had already turned the ferry away and was well out in the water before the three even made it to the rocky beach.
"So what now?" Shal pulled off her soaked leather boots and stood in a sandy section of the boulder-strewn beach. "We got out of the city, but the captain was right. The Black Watch will be after us again. And you can be sure they'll let Cadorna know we're alive. We're not accomplishing anything sitting on this beach."
"You're right. We need to get away from the beach," said Ren. "We'll go north and west, toward the graveyard. We'll rest for the night, and then we'll help Tarl get his hammer back."
"No," said Tarl softly.
"I understand," said Ren. "If you aren't ready, I have my own sights set on Valjevo Castle and that gutless monster that sends out assassins to murder women." Ren wiped his salt-caked lips on his sleeve.
"No," Tarl said again. "I'm ready. What I mean is that you won't go with me. I'm the one who lost the hammer, and I'm the one who's going to go get it."
"Be realistic, Tarl," Shal protested. "Just because you're a cleric doesn't mean you have to be a martyr!"
Ren walked around in front of Tarl, put his big hands on his friend's shoulders, and gently pushed him back until he could sit him down on one of the boulders on the beach. "Shal's right. Anyhow, we've been through all this before."
The three argued heatedly until finally Tarl agreed to let Ren and Shal go with him. Since none of them wanted to sit in wet clothes with dusk setting in, waiting for soldiers to follow, they hiked inland, wide of the river, until they were a short distance from the graveyard, in a place with sufficient brush and cover to set up camp. Shal made a smokeless, arcane fire, but unfortunately it was heatless, too.
Ren volunteered to collect some wood. As he saw it, nobody from Phlan would attempt to come this way before morning, if at all. The creatures they had to worry about would more likely be repelled by a fire than drawn to it.
Alone together as they laid out their bedding and prepared a meager meal of dried fruits and meat, Shal and Tarl shared a brief few minutes of awkward silence.
Tarl cleared his throat and spoke hesitantly. "Shal, I really don't know how to say this. I–I know you care for Ren-"
"It's not the same," Shal said softly.
Tarl looked straight into Shal's green eyes."Meaning?"
Shal held out her hands for Tarl's. She had been so unsure of
herself when they first met on the docks of Phlan that she was aware only of his tremendous kindness. Ren's attraction to her had seemed justified somehow by her resemblance to Tempest, but Tarl's she had not fully accepted. Even after he healed her in the temple, she'd felt he might simply be caught in the overwhelming emotion of the moment. But right now, as he grasped her hands and pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her, she knew that Tarl's affection was both strong and genuine. "Meaning I love you, Tarl."
As warm and wonderful as she had felt every time Tarl had healed her, she felt twice as good now. A special electricity, an uncanny awareness of his touch, coursed through her as she felt his fingertips ever so gentle on her neck and back, his soft kiss on her forehead, and then the warmth of his breath in her ear as he whispered, "I love you, too, Shal."
There was a considerable thrashing in the brush nearby, and the two pulled apart instantly and drew their weapons just in time to see Ren returning to their makeshift campsite.
"You're not very graceful for a ranger!" Shal jested, fighting her own embarrassment.
"Every bit as graceful as I want to be," said Ren, smiling wistfully.
Tarl rushed over to help prepare the fire.
"There's no sign that there's been anything more fierce than skunks or snakes traveling through this stretch of woods any time recently," said Ren. "I think we can sleep without worrying tod much."
Tarl still kept a late-night vigil, watching and listening for signs of anything, living or undead, nearby. It was as Ren said, quiet and still except for the lively dancing of shadows from their flickering fire. Tarl sat beside Shal and watched her as she slept, the red cascades of her hair aglow in the firelight. When all remained quiet, he silently pulled his bedroll next to hers and lay down. While the stars rose and fell in the sky, he prayed and communed with his god until he fell into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.
Ren feigned sleep the entire time Tarl kept watch. His mind was churning with thoughts of the morning. Tarl and Shal had both proved themselves as fighters, but Ren was convinced that neither would make it through the graveyard tomorrow. It was too easy to wake the undead, to make a move that would bring them springing up by the dozens as had happened at Sokol Keep. And the undead of Valhingen Graveyard weren't former Tyrian clerics. His mind made up, he allowed himself a brief, restless sleep.
When Tarl and Shal awoke, Ren was gone. Stud's first thought was that he somehow felt alienated because of what he had seen when he returned with the firewood, but Tarl shook his head firmly. "No. He's told me more than once that I didn't stand a chance of getting the hammer back. He believes that, with his rangering and thieving skills, he can get it. I think he went into the graveyard alone."
Shal felt a chill was over her. She had heard Ren say as much yesterday-how the key to passing through a place filled with undead was stealth, and that Tarl's presence, his aura, his medallion, everything about him offended the undead because he was a servant of a benevolent god.
They wasted no time and broke camp quickly. The sun wasn't even completely over the horizon when they reached the gate to the cemetery. A huge lump caught in Tarl's throat when Shal called for Cerulean, remembering the deaths of his brothers' horses. Shal seemed to sense his thoughts and raised a hand to remind him that Cerulean was no ordinary horse.
Looking at the fence now, Tarl wondered how he and the others could ever have thought it was part of the city fortress. "We were country clerics from Vaasa," he whispered. "Just a dozen country clerics from Vaasa."
Shal looked at him questioningly, but Tarl didn't explain. Instead, he squeezed her hand once and then lifted his hammer and shield high before they walked tentatively through the gate. His hammer glowed, and he could feel his holy symbol heavy and cool against his chest as they entered. To look at Valhingen Graveyard today, it could be a park. Asters and black-eyed Susans waved their brightly colored blooms above the tall grasses that grew untended over the gravestones. Purple bougainvillea and other less showy vines covered the handful of mausoleums interspersed here and there within the confines of the walls. Though less than three weeks had passed since Tarl had last stood on these grounds, he saw no sign of his brothers. He said a silent prayer for each of them, hoping that their spirits had managed to escape this place before their bodies were savaged by crude flesh-eaters.
Ren was nowhere in sight, but Shal and Tarl didn't have to go far before they realized that Ren's stealth did not get him across the graveyard unnoticed. Through a swath of parted grasses, they could see scattered skeleton bones forming a veritable pathway along the fence-line of the graveyard.
They followed the fragments, each hoping secretly that Ren had dealt successfully with all the skeletal warriors remaining in that portion of the graveyard. The path of bones was replaced at one point by a path of decayed body parts, the gruesome fragments of several zombies. The pall over the place was palpable, and despite their silent mantras and meditations, both Tarl and Shal were strung taut as catgut on a fiddle, waiting for something to happen.
Tarl took each step as though it meant his life, striving for silence even though he was sure his medallion and magical hammer couldn't go unnoticed in this place of death Shal followed suit, her Wand of Wonder raised before her. Cerulean was equally tense, stepping with the fluid, silent movements of a cat.
Tarl couldn't help but think the vampire was taunting him with his silence, luring him and Shal ever closer to the heart of the graveyard before he unleashed every miserable creature under his control. One more step, he was sure, and the place would be alive with zombies, wraiths, and specters. The joke would be on him. He could picture the naked vampire, his bloodless skin draped over his emaciated frame. He could hear his skin-prickling voice, coaxing him closer. His sick, hateful laughter pounded against Tarl's ears. No! Tarl raised one hand for Shal and Cerulean to stop. He could not let his fears or the silent persuasion of his foe get to him. He needed to pause a moment before going forward. Inhale the power of Tyr. Exhale the fear of Valhingen Graveyard. Inhale. Exhale. He touched his holy symbol and took another silent step, then another.
The tension shattered as a mutilated zombie bolted from the grass, sending clods of sod flying toward them. Instantly, responding completely on instinct, Tarl whipped his hammer hand forward with the full tension of a tightly wound spring packed behind it, decapitating the pitiful creature with the sheer force of his swing. A faint squeak came from Shal as she started at the sudden movement, and Cerulean's entire coat jiggled for an instant as a jolt of fear charged through his body.
All three hesitated for a moment before going on. Tarl was once again caught up in the sensation that the horrors of the graveyard were being held back, stored up until he, Shal, Cerulean, and Ren, wherever he was, reached the point of no return-literally. Tarl prayed once more to Tyr and pushed ahead as before, moving with painstaking caution. Tarl approached the remnants of a wall that had long since turned to rubble. There were no more bones and no more dismembered body parts to follow. He could only assume that Ren had kept going in the same direction. He stepped gingerly onto the rubble and climbed over the wall as deftly and as quietly as he was able.
Shal and Cerulean were right behind him. It'll be difficult for me to do this without slipping. Cerulean warned. Shal reached back to lead the big horse across, but it was she who slipped on the loose limestone fragments, sliding from the top of the rubble pile to the bottom, where her foot collided with the side of a granite mausoleum. Immediately the wooden door was flung open, slamming against the wall, and three horrible apparitions burst from the doorway.
"Wights!" yelled Tarl, charging forward to come to Shal's defense.
Shal had never seen such creatures. Their long hair bristled with filth. Their faces were wild, like men turned beasts, with gaping canine mouths and glaring nocturnal eyes. Their arms were elongated, like an ape's, and their gnarled hands bore claws long enough to inflict lethal damage. The wights separated right away, forcing Tarl and Shal and
Cerulean to fight them one on one.
Tarl raised his shield against the wight nearest him. Talonlike claws flailed over and under his shield, and he found it all but impossible to get in a clean swing with his hammer. As fast as he was able to, he returned his hammer to his belt, smashed ahead with his shield, and did his best to splash holy water over the creature. It shrieked in pain and backed away, its flesh burning, but Tarl had not managed to hit any vital area, and much of the precious water went to waste. The creature charged again, and Tarl hurriedly uttered the words of a spell to raise the dead, the only thing he knew of that would stop a wight.
Shal backed up hurriedly, trying to keep enough distance between herself and the nearest wight so that she could utter an arcane command to activate the Wand of Wonder. As awkward as the creature appeared to be in the daylight, its big nocturnal eyes obviously pained by the sunlight, it charged forward, snarling and slavering and lashing out constantly with its yellow-taloned hands.
Just as the wight came near striking distance, Shal finished the incantation for the wand. Instantly flowers sprouted where the wight's claws had been-clean, white daisies with buttery yellow centers.
The wight swiped at Shal with its hands, fully expecting to rake her eyes from her face with one stroke and her bowels from her abdomen with the next. Instead daisies lightly brushed Shal's face and stomach, and the creature recoiled in horror. Shal might actually have laughed if it were not for the wight's furious response. Without wasting another second, it rushed at Shal with its great maw open like a mad dog. Shal couldn't move out of its way fast enough. She just barely had time to blurt a command to activate the Wand of Wonder again. Immediately, so fast that Shal didn't even see it happen, the wight's flesh vanished, and its skeleton crashed against her body. The impact sent her sprawling backward, and she scrambled frantically to get out from under the pile of bones, but the skeleton wasn't animated; the wight was no longer.
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