by Allan Cole
L'ur told his men not to worry, it was only a temporary lull and reassured them about the well-known reliability of the winds in these parts. We remained becalmed all that night. In the morning we leaped up, ready for the fresh winds of the new day. They never arrived. The late afternoon winds failed as well. Nor did the night breezes bless us with their kiss. The following morning the sun dawned close and hot. Our heads ached as the still day wore on. The seamen's horny feet blistered and stuck to the deck, skin coming off if they pulled too hard. There was not a cloud in that blazing sky to give us hope of fresh winds rushing in over the horizon.
L'ur came to me in the late afternoon. "It's time you got your Evocator to get out the wind spirits," he said. "I've never had need of `em in these parts, and would have advised we keep `em for a nasty bit just off Redond." He looked up at the cloudless skies and shook his head. "Somethin's cursed us, sure," he said. "And I think we ought to get off quick."
I huddled with Janos and Cassini. One paid a dear price for a good bag of wind spirits; making many old witchwomen a handsome living in the ports where they plied their trade, capturing errant wind spirits in a sorcerous sack, then selling them to sailors for use when the wind failed. The bags were so costly, however, they were used only in emergency. We all agreed that emergency had come.
Cassini made quite a ceremony of it, chalking a pentagram on the deck just behind the beaked prow. He purified the area around the pentagram, sprinkling ashes made of rare spices and the cremated parts of equally rare creatures. He donned his best robe and fetched the sack containing the wind spirits. All of us gathered as he lifted his hands and cried out to Te-Date in a loud voice. He summoned the wayfarer's god for half an hour, and then spent most of an hour more praising Te-Date's name and enlisting his sympathy for our plight. The heat was intolerable, but no one complained, fearing to interfere and cause failure. We bore with his long exaltation, propping up our fellows who had been overcome by the sun. I remember well that blazing sky and Cassini's sonorous words beseeching it. Not one small cloud paid a visit.
Finally, the moment came. Cassini laid the bag on the sack, gripped the drawstring and gave a hard tug, stepping back quickly to avoid the blast of the emerging wind spirits. There are tales of men being killed by the fury of their escape. There was no fury on that day. Instead of a great cloud rushing to the skies to spawn the winds, a sickly gasp belched from the sack. It collapsed on the deck, a poor, flat, dead thing with no hope for us. Cassini stood there in dismay, mouth agape; a fool decked in Evocator's robes. The crew shouted in surprise.
One of the men brazenly tramped into the sacred pentagram and picked up the bag. I did not know his name, but he had the cropped ears of a man who had paid a price for thievery. He looked at the seal dangling from the string and hooted in angry disbelief. "I'm knowin' this mark," Crop Ear shouted. "and its maker's a great cheat. Sells her spirits right cheap, she does. Puny things that won't make a spit of a cloud." He turned to me and shook the sack at me in accusation. "The Red Head's a tightfist, boys," he cried. "Rather make our women widows than pay fair price for fair merchandise." The crew bellowed anger, ignoring L'ur's pleas for calm. Some of them put hands on their knives and shouted for my red scalp to appease the gods.
Janos's barked an order and suddenly Sergeant Maeen and the soldiers were there. Swords scraped from their scabbards and the crew fell silent. Janos leaped on a keg. "Hear me well, men of Kittiwake," he shouted. "If one of you lays a hand on this man, I will order our soldiers to slay you all. We are close enough to Redond that lack of your seaman's skills - such as they are - will not stay our hand, I promise you." Maeen clanged sword against shield to punctuate the remarks. The soldiers did the same and the ringing of war metal against war metal made the crew cowards. They crept back in silence.
"The wind will come, when the wind will come," Janos said. "We have plenty of food and drink and only the heat to bear. Te-Date will bless us soon. He is obviously busy now with the distress of others who are in real danger. But he will come to us by and by. Has he not been called by a great Orissan Evocator? Te-Date would never ignore such a blessed one. Now, go about your business and leave us be."
"You heard `im, you whoresons," L'ur bellowed. "There's plenty to do to bide the time. And if you can't find work, I'll find somethin' for you."
The sailors dispersed and L'ur set some of them on the buckets, heaving in sea water and flooding the decks to cool us off. I looked for the crop eared man who'd accused me, but didn't see him. Janos jumped down from the keg and went to Cassini, with me just behind him. The Evocator's face was white and his eyes shifted warily as we approached.
"What did you do, man?" Janos growled anger, dropping all customary respect for an Evocator. "I gave you good money and plenty of it. I even directed you to the best place to buy wind spirits. Why did you ignore my words?" Cassini shook his head. He had no answer.
"I'll tell you what you did," Janos said. "You thought you'd buy cheap and pocket what was left over. You thought you had talent enough to sniff out the good among the cheap. Am I right?"
Still Cassini did not answer. I saw from his look Janos's remarks had struck truth. I also saw a flush at his throat and knew guilt struggled with anger. This would not do. Cheat or not, fool or not, we needed Cassini. Orissan law and the power of the Council of Evocators had put him in our company, and there he must stay until we were home.
"I am sure it was only an error, Janos," I said. "Perhaps he took a wrong turn in seeking the address."
Cassini grabbed at it. "That's it," he said. "I was sure I went to the right place. And I paid full price. I am sorry for my error."
"Don't think too hard on it," I said. "All of us will make errors on this journey. And please forgive Captain Greycloak for his temper. The weather is trying on us all."
Janos saw what I was about and quickly changed tack. "You are right," he said. He turned to Cassini. "Please forgive my rudeness... and stupid accusations. My blood was up."
"There is nothing to forgive," Cassini said. "All is forgotten." The three of us smiled and went to choke down a little food. But I knew from the tightness in Cassini's smile Janos's intemperate words would not be forgotten.
The winds Janos promised did not come and the days passed in stifling misery. While the Kittiwake drifted, its sail slatting limp and lifeless, we laid in whatever shade we could find, panting like dogs. One day as I sat under an awning, sharing a jug of well-watered wine with Janos, my mind turned to that first night we had met, when Leego and his dogs trapped me at the tavern.
"Consider this, Janos," I said. "Perhaps my hair is lucky. Through it I fell into Melina's clutches, which is ill fortune on the surface. But the gods are wondrous indeed in their workings, for without that ill fortune I would never have met you and set out on this journey. And the meeting itself was of the greatest luck imaginable. For if you had not sought an alley to relieve yourself, Leego would certainly have killed me."
I meant this as a bit of a tired jest, but Janos did not favor it with a smile. Instead, he frowned, struggling for a moment with some inner turmoil. I was astonished at what he finally said. "I'm ashamed to say that meeting was no accident," came his reply. "I think it is time I confessed what really happened." He took a long pull of the wine. Then: "Maeen came to get me after you refused his safe company. He said there was a young man of noble birth who seemed intent on daring trouble. My honest response to this was laughter. For what do I care about rich men's sons?"
He looked at me, but I made no reaction, for I was confused at this belated confession. "But then I thought, perhaps here is opportunity," he continued. "As you know I was seeking support for an expedition since I arrived in Orissa. I did not know if you could be the man to help, but I thought it wise to gamble."
"So you were waiting outside the whole time?" I asked.
Janos nodded. "I should have come out of duty or honor, at Maeen's first word, but I'm ashamed to admit I did it for selfish motives."
I poured more wine, new interest making me forget the heat. "Thank you for that," I said. "It takes strong man to admit a failing."
Janos laughed ruefully. "I have more failings than strengths, my friend," he said. "But I appreciate your words just the same."
"You are a most curious person," I said. "My sister called you mad, bad and dangerous to know. And my sister is not often wrong. Tell me about yourself, if you would. All I know are the rumors of the marketplace and the few hints you've dropped. How is you find yourself here with me? Awaiting the winds from a lazy god."
Janos's face darkened. At first I thought had offended him by prying. His next words shook me. "Damn all the gods," he said, voice hoarse. "They never come when they're wanted. And arrive only when disaster is complete. Do not depend on the gods, Amalric. For they are as cunning and mean as any demon."
I was too amazed at this blasphemy to speak. Janos rushed on. "Let me tell you what happens to those who trust in the gods, instead setting their own course. As you know, my mother was the daughter of an Orissan noble, and my father was a prince of Kostroma when they were joined. When he returned to his homeland with his bride, his father had died and the populace was waiting to anoint him king. This was a heavy responsibility and there were brothers who could have taken the load, but the people wanted him... and with great reluctance, he accepted."
"Why would one be reluctant to be a king?" I wondered.
"For many reasons, as you shall see if you live long enough. But in Kostroma a king's lot was especially difficult. For a king of Kostroma was responsible for the city's luck. It was the law when calamity struck, and all hope was lost, it was the king who was required to lay down his life for the kingdom as the ultimate sacrifice. My mother's family was partly correct in viewing Kostroma as a land of barbarians. But my family was much more civilized than their imaginings, of course, and in the few years I was given with my parents I had all sorts of skilled tutors to make up for any lack in innate civilization."
"Forgive me for tearing at a tender scab," I said, "but I had heard your parents were dead. Does this story have something to do with that?"
"All of it," Janos said. "Kostroma had many enemies, but my father used his wits to keep them divided and his warrior skills to keep them from our fields. Then one day news came that a great horde was advancing on our lands. I do not know who they were or are, for I was too young to know more than they were a dangerous and particularly evil enemy. My father sent out scouts and they came back with reports of such vast numbers he knew all was lost. Kostroma was doomed.
"So my father donned his priestly robes and took up the standard of our god, our protector. He advanced alone to the field outside our city where the enemy host was formed, set down the standard and called upon our god to accept his sacrifice and save the city. Such was our bargain with that god. I will not speak his name, because my hate might give him life.
"The enemy charged, my father between them and the city. He cried again for help and stood his ground. A horseman laughed and lopped off his head with a single blow. His body tumbled and the horseman impaled his the head on swordpoint and led the army through the city gates. They killed all who fought them and carried off those who surrendered to sell as slaves. My mother was one of the dead. In a way this was fortunate, for as a final humiliation to Kostroma, all the princesses were thrown to the horde to be tormented.
"I did not learn until later what went on in the city, for I was with my father that day. Although I rose barely to his waist in height, I was a prince and knew I must stand by his side in the sacrifice. When he fell I struggled to raise that standard myself. I remember how heavy it was. How scared I was. But I knew if I raised it and called the god, he would come quickly and put everything right. Someone rode for me, shouting and waving his sword. I struck at him with the standard, but he knocked it away and plucked me off the ground and into the saddle."
Janos's eyes were tormented. "After the battle I was put in the slave pens."
"But you escaped," I cried. "You must have, or you wouldn't be here to tell the tale."
"No," Janos rasped. "I was marched for many a league, almost dying from weariness and thirst. Eventually we came to Redond and their slave market, where a buyer for the Lycanthian army bid on me like I was one of my father's lambs."
I gawked, a little amazed at myself for not shrinking away from someone who had just revealed he came from the lowest caste. I looked again at the dark bearded man with the scarred cheek and saw only my friend. "How did you survive? You must have escaped, and returned to your home. Yes, this is what must have happened."
Janos shook his head once more. "No. I stayed. And as for Kostroma, it no longer exists. Our enemies razed it and scattered the stones. Only beasts dwell there now."
He lifted the dancing girl from beneath his shirt. "I have only this to remember my father by. It is all I have left to keep his memory close. And that of my mother's. It had been broken on that day and was now so tarnished no one saw any value to it and took it from me."
Janos drained his cup and motioned for more. I hastily refilled it, anxious to hear the rest of this strange tale. "I was slave to the soldiers for many a year," he said. "At first I toiled in the kitchens, or cleaned the latrines. I was a nasty lad with an evil temper and I kept a sharp knife close for anyone who tried to make me his bum boy. My gift for languages was discovered. An army had been raised to fight near where Kostroma had been and I knew the dialects, so I was taken along. From that time on, I traveled whenever the army went out. I was well trained as a killer and treated despicably. But I was encouraged to test my language skills, so over time I came to know many peoples and many cultures."
"How did you come to be free, then?" I asked.
"The Lycanthians are an evil lot and I despise them all," Janos answered. "But they have one custom in which they are superior to the Orissans. Lycanthians allow slaves to buy their freedom. From there they can advance to any point in society. That is what I did. I saved my coin, did all I could to earn... or steal more. And finally I had enough to purchase my freedom. I always intended to return to my mother's homeland. But pride kept me away a few more years. Pride, and more."
He fingered the dancing girl necklace again. "This is what kept me from going mad all those years," he said. "I dreamt of the Far Kingdoms on countless nights, imagining it to be a wondrous place, where all my suffering would cease. I envisioned it a place set above the dwellings of the gods. A place where no one is slave to another, and all words are spoken in kindness. Wherever I went, whatever I did, the goal of finding the Far Kingdoms motivated my actions. It was a boy's imaginings. But they hardened into something much more. I swore in my lifetime I would see it for myself. So I stayed with the Lycanthians, and rose to captain in their ranks. Once again I set aside funds, until I had enough to finally quit the city."
"Dreams would not have kept me from going mad," I said. I spoke with great assurance, for I could not imagine myself a slave to another man.
"You would be surprised, my friend," Janos said, "what a person will do for just one more breath of life. As for madness, perhaps I am. But, as I said, any sanity I do possess I owe to my dream. I studied languages. I examined people so I could see them from every direction as well as into their hearts. And you will not be amazed to know, for I have seen your looks when I practiced in my quiet corner of this ship that I developed an unseemly interest in the Evocator's art. I spoke with shamans in distant villages, studied the habits of barbarian priests. I hope you
will still call me friend when I confess I have a small knowledge of wizardry and have pored over ancient texts."
"I guessed as much when you gave me the ferret's tooth," I said. "And although I know the Evocators say it is evil for common men to practice their skills, my own view of those whoresons is so dismal the sin you admit seems slight to me." I said this boldly, but an honest shiver in my guts remembered Janos's lie when questioned by the Evocators. I prayed there would be no discovery of that lie.
I covered my uneasiness with a laugh and I refilled our goblets. I toasted: "To new friends and old enemies," I said. Janos's cup clinked against mine.
"What of the winds?" I asked, circling back to the beginning. "When do you think they will come?"
Janos shrugged. "When we're the least ready," he answered. Then he turned over and slept.
The next morning we awoke to find the ship mired in a vast bed of seaweed. It stretched beyond view in every direction. When we saw how we were caught, some began to despair of ever escaping. The smell of decay was overpowering. But not so overpowering as the feeling we were watched. The feeling grew into certainty when a sailor cried out and we saw two huge eyes poking up from the seaweed. The eyes were no more than a ship's length off our port bow. We came to know those eyes well. They were yellow and shot with roped veins of red. As they observed, there was a constant bubble and moil beneath the surface, as if the creature were feeding. The captain ordered one of the crewmen to climb atop the mast to see if he could make out more of the creature from the heights. As he climbed, the creature's eyes rolled slowly back, following him.
Just before he reached the top an enormous, purplish cable of flesh shot out of the water. The sailor screamed as the tongue, for that's what it was, and covered with small sharp teeth - wrapped around him and plucked him, howling with fear, from the mast. He wriggled and fought as the tongue pulled him down into the water and to the still-limbless creature. There came one more burbling scream as he disappeared. There was a small struggle, and blood welled. The eyes went back to their task... watching us.