Into the Void s-2
Page 23
Aelfred Silverhorn's head popped into view. He climbed the ladder from the bridge below and spared the two a broad smile before he took his place at the forward rail. "Raise port and starboard fins!" he bellowed.
On the main deck, crewmen threw their weight on lines that led out to the four triangular sails extending out and slightly down from the hammership's hull like the fins of a shark. As they pulled, the sails folded upward until they stood vertically against the gunwales.
"Dead slow," Aelfred called. "Prepare for landing."
The Probe slowed still more and dropped lower. They were now no more than fifty feet above the wave caps, Teldin saw. Forty feet, thirty… Aelfred had ordered "dead slow"-and, compared to the hammership's top speed, that's how fast they were going-but watching the waves whip by underneath, Teldin realized the Probe was still moving about as fast as a running man. The sensation of riding something as big as the hammership this fast, this low, was exhilarating… and terrifying. He could easily imagine the vessel slamming into the water hard enough to snap its keel, breaking it apart into quickly sinking fragments.
Ten feet, five… The first crest slapped against the bottom of the hull. "Brace for landing," Aelfred called back. He was grinning from ear to ear. Teldin took a solid grip on the rail and noticed that Rianna had already done so and was braced in a wide-legged stance.
The ship touched down with a roar of water pounding against the hull. The deck surged hard beneath Teldin's feet, almost breaking his grip on the rail. Curtains of spray, catching the light like countless diamonds, arched high on both sides of the vessel, then fell back with a hiss. A fine mist of chill water washed back over the forecastle. The Probe was down.
"Helm down," ordered the first mate.
The hammership slowed quickly. Looking aft, Teldin could see the broad white wake that the ship had left. He walked forward to join Aelfred and looked over the bow rail.
The hammership rode low in the water. The waterline appeared to be about level with the main deck itself, which gave the vessel very little freeboard, particularly in the bow itself. Teldin remembered Rianna's comment: spelljamming ships are built for space. Even with his minimal knowledge of things nautical, he recognized that the slightest storm would swamp the hammership and send it to the bottom.
Aelfred, still grinning, pounded him on the shoulder. "Exciting, eh?" he enthused. "I live for that."
Teldin nodded halfheartedly. "Fun," he said without conviction.
The motion of the ship had changed, Teldin noticed. To be precise, now the ship had motion. Except during the most drastic maneuvers, or when the ship struck something, the Probe in space had felt as solid and motionless as Krynn itself. Now, however, the big ship was rolling slightly with the waves, which were striking it abeam. This was another problem with spelljamming vessels when they were out of their true element, he realized. Their stability was dreadful.
Something else had changed, too. For the first time, he could feel a cool, salt breeze on his face. As the Probe had soared in for its landing, the air on deck had been totally still. Now that the ship was virtually at rest, a steady wind blew across its bow from out of the west. He mentioned it to Rianna.
"Of course," she answered. "When the helm goes down, so does the atmosphere envelope." His face must have shown his confusion, because she grinned. "Atmosphere envelope, that's the bubble of air the ship takes with it into space. When the helm's operating, the ship keeps a bubble of relatively still air around it even when it's in the atmosphere of a world… generally speaking, of course."
Teldin nodded intelligently, trying to pretend that he understood even half of what Rianna was saying. Suddenly, without warning, his stomach twisted uncomfortably. What? Oh, no… He couldn't be seasick, could he? He took a deep breath of the sharp sea air, stretching his lungs to the limit. The nausea lessened a little. He breathed again, trying to ignore the motion of the deck beneath his feet.
Aelfred must have recognized his plight, because the big warrior remarked, "It's worst when we're at rest. She's much more stable when we're underway." He turned aft and bellowed, "Sea sail up."
Crewmen swung into the rigging and started hauling up the large sail reserved for ocean maneuvering. The big ship heeled slightly as the west wind filled the canvas. Ropes complained as the rigging took the strain and the boom swung to expose the maximum sail area. Waves slapped against the hull.
"Hard a-port," Aelfred ordered. "Bring us in."
The Probe turned its blunt bow southward, toward the port of Rauthaven.
It was evening, and the sun had set perhaps half an hour before. The Probe swung gently at anchor-under the star now, rather than among them-in the crowded inner harbor of Rauthaven's port. Lanterns burned at bow and stern and atop the tall mainmast. Around the ship was a swarm of other such lanterns. It was too dark to discern the shapes of the ships that bore them; all that could be seen were the points of yellow light. It was as though some god had taken a constellation from the sky and brought it down to earth, Teldin found himself thinking. He stood on the main deck, leaning on the port rail, gazing toward shore.
Rauthaven itself was another constellation of lights: braziers to keep the city watch warm through the chill nights; open windows of cozy homes and snug taverns, spilling their welcoming light into the streets; and here and there a moving spark that had to be a lantern mounted on a carriage. From this angle, down in the harbor surrounded by the hills of the city, Teldin could make out no definite horizon, no demarcation between city and sky. The scattered lights of the city seemed to blend imperceptibly with the scattered stars. If he ignored the motion of the ship, the night wind on his face, and the smell of the sea, Teldin could almost make himself believe that he were back in space.
In fact, part of him wished that were true. Where had that thought come from? he wondered. At first space had been a dangerous unknown, and his greatest desire had been to get back to the safe, planet-bound life that he knew. Now, however, part of his mind equated space with safety, while Rauthaven-and Toril as a whole-was the dangerous unknown. Why? After all, wasn't he now near the end of his quest? If he could find an arcane and discharge his obligation to the dead owner of the cloak, he'd be free to live his own life again, as he saw fit. Why wasn't he welcoming landfall on Toril as the penultimate step in freeing himself from his burden?
When he phrased the question that way, the answer was obvious. What if he found out that the arcane weren't the creators of the cloak and were as helpless as the gnomes of Mount Nevermind when it came to removing it? This entire trip would have been a wild-goose chase. Worse, where would he go from here? Instead of the end of his journey, Rauthaven could turn out to be just the first step in a much greater one. It just didn't bear thinking about.
That, he knew, was why he found himself wishing he were back in space. On the journey, he'd enjoyed the anticipation of solving the problem. Now that he was here, there was a very real possibility that he didn't have the solution. He found that he was deeply afraid of finding that out. Stupid, he thought, it's like hiding from a messenger because you're afraid he might be bearing bad news. Stupid, maybe, but the feeling was very real. He shook his head hard, trying to banish the thoughts, the doubts.
There was somebody approaching across the main deck. He strained his eyes through the darkness. He could barely make out the shape of a man about his own height but more lightly built. As the figure drew closer, Teldin could discern the face.
The man's features weren't familiar at all; Teldin didn't recognize him. How can that be? he asked himself. There are no strangers aboard ship. It could be one of the new crewmen the Probe had acquired from the neogi deathspider, he supposed, but he thought he'd met all of them. Who was this stranger? For the first time, he felt the stirring of fear. His hand dropped to the hilt of his short sword.
Say your hand. The words formed directly in Teldin's brain. There was no mistaking that mental voice.
"Estriss?" Teldin gasped.
The figure before him smiled-or, at least, it was probably intended to be a smile. The lips drew back from the teeth, but the expression looked clumsy, somehow artificial.
It is I, the mental voice confirmed. You are not the only one with access to shapeshifting magic.
"How?"
A hat of disguise, the illithid answered. I purchased it long ago for times such as these.
"What do you mean?"
Humor tinged the mind flayer's words. Even in a city such as Rauthaven, those of my kind are not overly welcome. People react with fear, and fearful people are unlikely to give me the information I need. So the charade. To those of Rauthaven, I am Bale Estriss, collector of antiquities… and sadly, a mute who can only communicate by writing notes.
Teldin nodded in understanding. Clever, he thought. That way the illithid wouldn't have to use his telepathic abilities.
I found you to discuss plans, the mind flayer went on. I must find out what I can about the upcoming auction. A boat will be coming to ferry me and some others in. Do you still wish to make contact with an arcane?
"Definitely," Teldin replied.
Estriss nodded. While I am abroad in the town, I promise to make what inquiries I can. As I told you before, there are no guarantees, but it seems to me very likely that there will be at least one arcane in Rauthaven.
"Good." Teldin thought for a moment. "Maybe I should go into town myself."
I would advise you not to do so, the illithid replied quickly. You do not know this city.
Teldin was surprised to realize he felt a little miffed by the mind flayer's quick rejection. "Do you?" he shot back.
Estriss hesitated, and Teldin knew he'd guessed right. Not well, the illithid answered slowly, but I do have experience in finding my way around unfamiliar worlds, while you do not The mind flayer's mental tone changed. I apologize, he said. I have offended you, and that was not my intention. My only excuse is the proximity of the auction, which is so important to my work. Will you accept that my concern is for your safety?
Teldin knew that what Estriss was saying only made sense. There was nothing Teldin himself could do, abroad in Rauthaven, that the illithid couldn't do, perhaps better. He nodded.
The disguised Estriss laid a reassuring hand on Teldin's shoulder. I am glad. I should be only an hour or two. Hopefully, when I return, I will have news.
*****
According to the ship's bells, Estriss was ashore for little more than two hours. To Teldin it seemed much longer. In an attempt to pass the time, he went below and chatted with Horvath and Miggins. The two gnomes had come up with a complex replacement for the Probe's sea sail, one that they said would nearly double the ship's speed on the ocean. They'd mentioned it to Aelfred, they told Teldin, and the first mate had given them permission to rig a prototype… if they supplied all the materials themselves and if they made no permanent modifications to the hammership's rigging without Aelfred's express authorization. The gnomes were so excited that Teldin couldn't tell them his interpretation of the big warrior's behavior. Teldin was convinced Aelfred saw this as a way to keep the gnomes busy and out from underfoot.
After that, he'd spent a comfortable half-hour chatting with Rianna in the officer's saloon. The woman had easily sensed his tension but had shown the sensitivity not to question him about it. Instead, she'd kept the conversation superficial.
No matter how much he counseled himself to patience, Teldin was almost vibrating with tension when he saw the small, open tender that did ferry duty around the harbor approaching. With a quick explanation to Rianna about business matters, he hurried up on deck.
"Did you find out anything?" he asked as soon as Estriss was aboard.
I certainly did, the illithid replied. His mental voice was filled with excitement. The auction takes place early the day after tomorrow, at the Merchants' Rotunda, a central meeting place. We were lucky to arrive in time. I have heard further descriptions of some of the items to be included, and they certainly sound like the artifacts I want. This is the perfect opportunity I have waited for. The illithid's magically disguised face smiled clumsily at Teldin. If you wish to attend with me, you would be most welcome.
"Well, yes," he said slowly, "that's good, but about the arcane… ?"
The disguised illithid looked at him in puzzlement for a moment, then realization showed on his features. Of course, he said hastily, my apologies, I forgot. Yes, there is known to be one arcane who will be attending the auction as well. His name is "T'k'Pek." The illithid spoke the name aloud, exaggerating the clicking consonants. I'm sure you can speak to it tomorrow at the auction.
Teldin shook his head. "No," he said firmly, "I need to speak to the arcane in private, preferably before the auction."
Estriss hesitated. I doubt that will be practical.
"Estriss," Teldin said sharply, "this is important. Where's the arcane staying in town? I can arrange a visit." Teldin was somewhat surprised by his own decisiveness, and both Estriss's and Aelfred's reactions confirmed that it was a shock to them.
T'k'Pek is not staying in Rauthaven, Estriss answered. I understand that he will remain on his ship, in orbit around Toril, until the time of the auction.
"Where in orbit?"
The illithid shrugged. In his disguised form, the gesture looked a lot more natural. No one has told me. I would expect that no one knows.
Teldin turned to Aelfred. "Can we look for it?"
Aelfred glanced uncomfortably at Estriss. Teldin could tell what was going through his mind: Estriss is officially captain of the Probe, and the first mate must abide by the decisions of his superior. Strictly speaking, this couldn't be Aelfred's decision. "We could, I suppose," the burly warrior said slowly. "Theoretically we could, but finding it's another question again. Compared to a planet, a ship's a very tiny needle in a bloody big haystack. If you don't have any details on altitude or the orientation of the ship's path, it can take days."
Teldin found himself grinding his teeth in frustration. He was so close: too close to fail now. He turned to Estriss. "The Probe is your ship," he said, keeping his voice as unemotional as he could. "Would you allow this?"
It was the mind flayer's turn to pause uncomfortably. There may be no need, he said after a moment. As is typical with the arcane, T'k'Pek conducts most business through a representative-a factor, if you will-in Rauthaven. This mm is called Barrab. It should be possible to make contact with him… The mental voice trailed off uncertainly.
"Why didn't you tell me this earlier?" Teldin demanded.
It may be of no help. The words that formed in Teldin's mind held a tone of complete candidness. If the arcane has seen tit to employ a representative, it will probably be because he does not want to deal directly with others. The factor's job, then, will be to prevent the kind of contact that you seek.
"You may be right," Teldin admitted, "but I have to try."
Doing so would draw attention to you, Estriss pointed out. It would expose you to risk, and risk the loss of-he glanced around furtively, even though there were only the three of them on the forecastle-of that which you must protect.
"I have to try," Teldin repeated stubbornly.
Estriss was about to object, but Aelfred cut in with a snort. "The lad's right," he said firmly. "This is important, for several reasons. I know it's a risk, but look. I'll go along with him, maybe take another crewman." He smiled down at Teldin. "We'll keep you out of trouble. Where's this Barrab staying, 'Bale'?"
The illithid shrugged again, this time in resignation. He stays at tie Edgewood, on Widdershins Street.
"Good." Aelfred turned back to Teldin. "We can go at once if you like. If the ship can't do without me for a few hours, we've got the wrong crew."
Gratitude toward the first mate-his friend-swelled within Teldin's breast, but he knew that thanks would just embarrass the big warrior. With an effort, he kept his emotions out of his voice. "At once would be… convenient," he said.
Chapter Eleven
Most of the damage was repaired-the worst of it, at least. The forward port, the one shattered by that foul elf s magic, had been replaced, and the burn scars on the deck and bulkheads patched. Still, there's the smell of burning in the air? the creature wondered. Or does it linger only in my mind? Prissith Nerro snarled its anger. The bridge crew backed away, knowing the rashness of disturbing their captain when it was in this mood.
We do not have the prize yet, the neogi told itself, but at least we have valuable information. It smacked its lips as it remembered the tastes of the interrogation. The simple pleasures of tearing flesh made up for the horrendous difficulties the creature had with the human language. What was it about the tongue that made its grammar and syntax so alien to the neogi mind? The creature knew well that it was far from fluent in the grotesque language-the prisoner's reactions had frequently made that clear-and suspected that none of its race fared any better.
My plan is a good one, it reassured itself. If only it didn't have to depend on lesser races for its success. The creature spat in disgust.
There was a sound behind the captain. Prissith Nerro spun, teeth bared, ready to tear. It was Prissith Ulm. The captain felt grudging admiration for the fact that it's brood-brother hadn't even flinched. "What?" it snarled in its own tongue.
The subordinate neogi bobbed its head in respect. "Prissith Nerro Master," it hissed. "We have word from our asset on Toril."
At last, good news. "What?" the captain demanded.
Prissith Ulm bowed again. "The bearer of the cloak has arrived," it said respectfully, "as you said it would. That has been confirmed."