All had moved topside to escape the rushing waters below deck. With each new crest and trough, the wind changed direction in the sails. Some were only slight course deviations but others nearly overcame the masts, causing them to bend and bow beneath the heavy strain. Rains came first as a light mist but immediately turned thick and heavy as the storm descended upon them.
The deck of the ship became slick as did the safety ropes. A second set of hands toiled at the helm. Valam had made his way slowly and carefully to the forward deck. He took a stout rope and lashed himself to the wheel as Cagan had. A voice from within the ship called out the depth of the rising waters.
Already, Cagan noticed the sluggishness of the response from the wheel. The ship would soon flounder beyond his control if the masts did not yield first. He cursed loudly in a steady stream of words, which were his commands to his bosun. The calls still sent able-bodied men to action though the response time was slow.
The first spark of lightning to strike close at hand sent a shiver through Cagan. As if rain, wind, and wave were not bad enough, now the storm lashed out at them with yet another of its treacheries. Each new bolt echoed both in his eyes and in his ears. He laughed at his folly, mocking his own thoughts. The lightning gave him a new source of light in the darkness of the storm, and whether it was good fortune or misfortune to see the line of the coast highlighted in the distance he did not know.
Cagan saw only the shadows of rock and crag ahead. He noted a shift in the balance of the ship as it sought to settle to one side. Quickly he called out to correct the sails. The bosun’s alarm rang, and the men responded when the top deck first encountered the crest of the gigantic wave. Screams of despair rose. Several were swept into the seas and readily claimed. Their screams of panic did not last long.
The ship surprisingly did not give in. As it was whirled about at the bottom of the wave, it righted itself though it was still heavy in the water. Cagan gazed through the flashes, searching the shadows. Cautious thoughts carried his mind to the two longboats they carried. He marked them as their last resort and had them readied, even though he knew they would be of little use in this storm.
A sound almost like a clap of thunder stifled his senses. Cagan held his breath deadly still. He closed his eyes and bowed his head. As the center mast crashed to the deck, the rigging and sails went with it, draping the onlookers. Mercilessly the waves turned the ship and overcame her, even as she flopped from side to side.
Many hands went to the longboats and launched them into churning waters. Those that were close enough scrambled inside, and the sea claimed even a few of those. Neither Cagan nor Valam had left the wheel; there they remained. They watched the small boats being brutally battered by the rough waters. They chose not to die in that manner. They would rather come to an honorable end, dying the way they had lived.
The dull glow of a light suddenly came into sight. The storm played among the shadows around them, offering them no clues to its origin. As if in anger, the rain increased in velocity, pelting them with an ever-thickening volley. A shimmer in the distance caught their eye. A murmur resounded in their ears as yet another clap of thunder fell upon them. The bolt struck dead in front of them, lighting the area in a great circle, and for the first time, a glimmer of hope was revealed.
Midori woke from a dream. Frightened, she shivered alone in the dank corner in which she slept. A tear marked the outline of her face, and just as it dripped to the floor, a smile, a mocking smile touched her lips. Her enemy knew her soul well, she thought for a moment. She found little comfort in the knowing, and quickly turned away from it.
A voice pierced the silence and the darkness about her. Though she heard it, she did not listen. She still grasped the images from the dream in her mind and would not turn away from them. The Mother had called out to her, or perhaps it was only a wish in her dream; she did not know, but the voice could not be mistaken. She did not know if the message was one of her own creation or of reality, but she held to it.
“Today,” she thought, “today is the day when I will know the truth of it.” She groped for her blanket in the darkness and pulled it snug around her. The cold stone beneath her negated the little warmth it offered. She closed her eyes in an attempt to find peace in sleep and her dreams again.
“Outside the sun is already high in the sky,” spoke a voice in close proximity to her.
“I do not care. I only know that it is dark in here and cold, and I am tired. My soul is weary and wants to rest. So please leave me in peace this day, or night.”
“My dear Midori, princess so fair, first daughter of the Mother, heir to all.”
“Don’t start with that today. Please let me rest. I—I—” began Midori, “I am so tired.”
“Your mind is awake, and your body grows weary but not from lack of sleep. You have slept too long; it is time you woke up. Move about. Move your feet. Do not sit and stagnate this day.”
“You were the one who told me to sleep. What do you wish me to do?”
“Yet that was some time ago. That is long since past. We have much to discuss and times grows short. So listen to my words, and regard them for a time. Then when you are ready, respond to them in any manner you see fit.”
“I think we will have plenty of time for as many discussions as you please. I don’t think we are going anywhere soon.”
“Maybe, maybe not. Have you not returned to your senses yet? Are you a princess, or are you the first to the Mother? Well, a response would expedite matters.”
“I’m thinking; give me a moment.”
“There should be nothing to consider. Has your mind grown that clouded? Is your judgment impaired beyond even my grasp? First consider this: is the darkness all that bad? Is this the only thought in your mind? If it is, you need to seriously reconsider your woes.”
“I do not think I can. I fear the dark, to be truthful with you. You cannot see in the dark, and without sight, you are lost.”
“On the contrary, there is much one can see in the dark if you only have the will to look. Did not your teacher pass on to you the lessons of your senses? Your eyes are but one of many.”
“This is the second time you have spoken of my teacher. Which do you speak of, as I have had many?”
“Your first of course, for in truth there were no others before or since.”
“You knew the shaman?”
“Yes, for as long as the wind has blown across the northern mountains.”
“Then you are—”
“But of course I am.”
“Am I dreaming, or am I awake?”
“You are very much awake. Now, will you listen?”
“Yes. Please forgive me.”
Xith and Noman pressed on, following their guide. The others returned with the heavy bags of goods Xith had procured to the place where the remainder of the party waited. Nijal was hesitant to part from the two but did as he was told. Xith grinned ear to ear, and Noman knew at once why. Xith had not known the name of the man who was now their guide; in fact he had probably never seen him before this day, but that did not matter. The man wholly believed that Xith had. Just as importantly, this belief would be relayed, discussed by those who watched.
The pace did prove to proceed at a very fast pace. Their guide turned corners, crossed street and alley, detoured around obstacles, both animate and inanimate, without a moment’s warning. His demeanor did improve greatly though as they walked a ceaseless string of words issued from his lips, which most often was heard as an unintelligible mumble.
He did offer his name, which was Vajlar Kapriz. Xith had managed to salvage that much from the man’s unbroken soliloquy. Xith took it in the old tongue, and it did indeed fit one of Vajlar’s demeanor. Xith wondered at the confidence the man had in them, or perhaps he thought Xith already knew his name in full, which was not often given to friend or stranger.
At length, they finally arrived at a place where a
somewhat odd sign hung, on which was scrawled, not printed, the words “Two Hands.” Vajlar paused for a time outside the door and caught his breath, pulling himself up to his full height as he did so. His stride was no longer quick and sloppy but crisp as he entered and crossed to a table.
He bade the others to join him and ordered three draughts, for which Xith paid at Noman’s insistence as Vajlar never reached for coin or purse. Their guide drank two full tankards before anything passed his lips other than ale. As he began to speak, it was clear that his mood had changed; and, although he was not rude, he made it clear that they were outsiders here and should watch their step at all times.
Vajlar drank two more draughts, still at Xith’s expense. His cheeks grew bright red and his eyes began to gloss over. It seemed that he was in a talking mood once more as words spewed from him endlessly again; and though they were now slow, they were slurred with the liquor. Xith smiled politely, knowingly. The guild was the true gatekeeper of Krepost’ and indeed, as myth and legend implied, there was great danger for unwelcome travelers.
The story that Vajlar embarked on was in no way related to what they wanted to hear. As it drew to a close, the hour was growing late. The sun outside, if they had been able to see it, would have been past afternoon and leaning toward dusk; but this afternoon the two were saints of patience, or at least Noman was. They offered no complaints, bent only on listening intently. After a few too many tankards of ale had passed their lips even though there were lengthy pauses in between, they began again only at Vajlar’s insistence. They began to lose sight of their objective, and they even started to understand the story they listened to. Xith acted extremely nervous, as was expected, and especially since the table was littered with a line of tankards, all of which he had paid for.
After the table had been cleared and then filled, Xith, who seemed to be the only one with his wits attached, lost his will to wait. “Vajlar, my friend—” Xith paused for a lengthy burp, playing the part a bit too over-the-top as far as Noman was concerned, “Are you ever going to tell us—point out to us—the one we seek?”
Vajlar pretended not to notice that Xith had spoken and continued on with his conversation, which was now completely one-sided. He had, after all, still one willing listener. Noman, who had one hand pressed against his face with his elbow resting on the table, was indeed listening. Noman turned his attention to Xith, only after it became clear that Xith was not going to let his words pass.
“He doesn’t know,” responded Noman, nodding his head slightly to let Xith know everything was proceeding as expected. There was also a much more subtle message in the gesture: don’t worry so.
“What do you mean, he doesn’t know? Then what are we doing here wasting time?”
“Listening to the story of course.”
“You are following that?”
“Yes. Now if you’ll be silent, I can return to it. Please continue, Master Vajlar. Pay him no heed.”
A sharp shift in the wind raised the flap of the tent and threw it back. Mist from the rain reached the table in short spurts. Jacob moved to close the flap, but Ylsa had already done so. She pulled the flap taut, and secured it tightly this time. Father Jacob offered her a wink as a gesture of thanks.
The atmosphere in the room had been gloomy for hours. Some wandered next to the hearth, warming their feet and hands, while some just sat at the table looking forlorn. Jacob absently scratched words onto bits of parchment. His thoughts were elsewhere, floating beyond the waters of the sea.
A sudden shaft of light shining into the chamber startled him. He lifted his eyes to see a hand groping at the knots tied about the doorway, and a figure entered. It was drenched from head to toe, and perhaps the only dry thing it possessed was the lamp it held, which was shining fiercely.
Jacob noted the rain striking the ground in thick pellets. It was turning to sleet. None moved as the hooded man walked to the table, set the lantern down, and began to remove his saturated cloak. Jacob nodded as the man shook the water from his hair and walked to the fire without uttering a sound save for the chattering of his teeth.
“Cursed storm,” Captain S’tryil muttered under his breath, removing his boots and setting them upon the warm stones. “Water is rising in the camp; the rain is no longer sinking into the earth. It is just settling on the surface. If I did not know better, I would say that a great flood is at hand. The cliffs along the far walls are running with heavy cascades of water. Even the sea is in extreme turmoil. We have had to draw the farthest line of tents back, or they would have been lost. The waves are coming in greater than I have ever seen. Our scouts to the north and south report that the trails are being washed away. In short, the only way out of this hole will be by rope.”
“The ships, captain, are they all right in the bay?”
“As far as I can tell. Captain Evgej has not returned yet, so I am not positive. The darkness has completely enshrouded us; the storm is full upon us. I think it best if we all just stay indoors until it passes. I have passed the word to report all matters here as expediently as possible.”
Jacob mulled over the words for some time. The absence of Evgej suddenly touched a chord in his mind. There were two others who were also absent. He continued with the parchment, writing until he considered it complete, and then he pressed it flat and placed it in a large book amongst many others. The rain flailing the roof of the tent had stifled most of the thoughts he would have logged this day. For the most part, words had crossed from hand to pen only after long, pensive pauses. He sensed something ill afoot though he could not place it.
Lord Edwar Serant waited for the guard to return. “Very well, I will just sit here and do nothing, as you wish, but I will say this, I do not like it. You could at the very least offer me something to eat. A little food, maybe. I am growing very hungry. Do you have any food? Yes, I am talking to you, who do you think I was talking to? I wasn’t talking to myself now, was I? Well? Are you just going to sit there or are you going to get up off your lazy ass and get over here and open this door? Wait, wait! I was just kidding. Come back—yeah, that’s it. Just sit back down. Don’t trouble yourself with paltry thoughts or simple facts, like I have not eaten in days and have no water, nor any place to go to the bathroom.”
“Use the corner; that is what they were made for.”
“The corner? Please, spare me. Are you ever going to move from that spot, you lazy oaf?”
“That’s it! This one gets a muzzle. Fetch me the straps!”
“Wait, wait, I just want something to eat. I promise I’ll shut up then.”
“Really?”
“I swear.”
“Listen here, any more trouble out of you and I’ll chain you upside down for the rest of your miserable life. I chained the bird man upside down and he nearly died. You, I’d leave you there until death. Is that what you want?”
“You know, friend, you really should tone it down a little.”
Edwar Serant turned about. Before he could answer, the other in his cell said, “Oh, you’re awake, finally.”
“How long have I been asleep?”
“You were not sleeping, my friend, you took a nasty blow to the head. You are lucky to be alive.”
“Well, with all the noise the loudmouth was making, he could have waked the dead.”
“Poor choice of words, I assure you. Let me take a look at you. Sit up—Oh—Oh, my—”
“Is it bad?”
“No. It is healing nicely.”
“Where am I?”
“I wish I knew myself—wish I knew myself.”
“Do I know you?”
“Perhaps. Don’t worry about that right now. You just lean back and take it easy.”
The guard returned, “Hey, you there, here’s your grub. Eat it all, or you’ll not see another bite.”
Edwar Serant glared at the guard through the small window in the cell’s door. “Do you think I really care? I
’ll—mmm, not bad. My compliments to the cook; this stuff is almost good enough for sows.”
“I’m warning you—”
“I would be quiet if I were you,” said the other.
“It’s a game. He really loves it. I don’t think he’d ever really put me in a muzzle.” Serant gave the bowl of food to the one who had just awoken. “Here, eat this.”
“This is really bad. How can you eat this?”
“It is all we will get, so eat up. What about you? Here, take some of this.”
“I’ll pass.”
“Me, too.”
Complete In the Service of Dragons Page 56