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The Key of Amatahns

Page 30

by Elisabeth Wheatley


  ***

  They sailed, if it could be called that, well into the day and the evening. Janir was beginning to wonder why the term “sailing” was associated with a smooth and uninterrupted ride. Sailing involved swells and waves and ornery winds.

  Karile had turned several shades of green, and fed the fish his meager breakfast by midday, while Janir was no better. The only comfort she received was that several of the Argetallams were almost the same color—except Lucan. Lucan showed as much adaptability to the sea as any of the sailors.

  It wasn’t long before both Janir and Saoven were sunburned. Karile resembled a pouting green and red lobster.

  Apparently, below deck was very cramped and crowded and it was more convenient to leave the captives up top. Besides, it left them in full view of the entire crew, leaving little chance they would have the opportunity to try anything devious.

  Janir began considering herself and the others slaves, but Lucan had his warriors put forth a little more effort to look after them. Their fundamental needs were attended, even if it was not in the most gracious fashion. She nearly broke a tooth on the hard biscuits they were fed for supper.

  Toward the deep of the night, when a crescent moon hung like a sickle in the sky, when the Brevian coast was just a dark sliver on the horizon and all other ships were out of sight, Lucan watched from the back of the skiff. The sea had grown calmer and the eerie dip of the oars in the water was one of the few sounds in the crisp sea air.

  “What does he see?” Karile whispered.

  “How would I know?” was Janir’s clipped response.

  Lucan waved over one of his Argetallams and exchanged several brief sentences. The warriors surveyed the sea in their wake, speaking in low tones.

  “What is he saying?” Karile wondered.

  “How would I know?” Janir snapped a second time.

  “Quiet!” Saoven scolded. “I am trying to listen.”

  Lucan pursed his lips, then spun around and made for the front of the ship. He went immediately to his prisoners and produced the keys from their place around his neck. Without a word, Lucan undid the chains binding them to the prow of the skiff.

  “Come with me,” he commanded.

  It occurred to Janir that there were three of them and their bonds were being held by a single boy. The covert looks from Saoven and Karile said they had seen it the same way, but the other Argetallams were only a few paces off. The three of them let him lead past the heaving oarsmen to the back of the ship.

  Karile bumped into Janir, standing on his tiptoes for a better view. “What is it?”

  Lucan gave the enchanter a harsh glare and hissed for silence. He pointed to the shadowy horizon, in the direction of the mainland. “What do you see there, elf?” he demanded.

  Saoven stared across the water, peering into the dark. Janir strained to see what it was, but she could only make out several shapes in the moonlight that might have been swells. Briefly, she thought she saw one of them rise out of the water, but it might have been her imagination.

  “I see trouble,” Saoven said coldly. “A group of four mazag, swimming toward us.”

  A moment of silence descended upon the deck. Lucan brandished a karkaton and held it in front of the elf’s face. “If you are lying to me…”

  “It is no lie.” Saoven was calm and factual, though Janir felt a panic coming on.

  “How would you even know what one looks like?” Lucan snapped. “You can’t be that old.”

  “The memories of my people live on long after we die,” Saoven vaguely answered. “Wait a few hours and the truth of it will be proven. The creatures may not be gaining fast, but they will catch us eventually.”

  For just a few moments, fear of the monsters outweighed her fear of her brother. “Give the Key back, Lucan!” Janir pleaded.

  “Not a chance,” Lucan hissed back.

  Karile was shaking his head. “Oh…dear,” he mumbled. “This is not…good. Not good at all.”

  “Don’t you see they’re relentless?” Even as she said it, Janir knew she’d never talk reason into her brother. “They’re going to kill us all if we don’t give it back!” She remembered the great mazag that had followed her and Karile out of the cavern. It had been willing to negotiate for peace, perhaps these would as well.

  Despite the fate of the great mazag, she was not so certain their small group could stand against four beasts. Four beasts that must have tracked them for weeks and were doubtless angered by the death of their companion.

  “It was stolen from them,” Janir said. “They just want it back. Just give it back!”

  “Correct me if I am wrong, but I seem to recall that you were the one to steal it. True?” Lucan countered.

  “Don’t you see? You killed one of them!”

  The small crew was comprised of about ten oarsmen in all. Every one of them and the captain was staring at the brother and sister with bewilderment.

  One of the Argetallams, the one who seemed to have taken up Camak’s habit of questioning Lucan’s authority, made to step forward. “My lord, we should let them come. We slew the last beast, there is nothing to say we cannot slay more.”

  All around the ship, eyes and ears were fixed on their conversation. A sense of dread and doom befell the skiff in almost an instant, settling in everyone familiar with the mazag, even those who thought they stood a chance fighting. Their fear infected the sailors like a disease, becoming an almost palpable thing in moments.

  Abruptly, the skiff’s captain stepped forward. “Someone want to explain?”

  “You will do as I tell you,” Lucan growled. “You will take this ship straight for the Rivellis Peninsula and that will be the end of it.”

  “I don’t know what’s happening here and we’re not moving until I do.”

  “Don’t make me open your veins.” Lucan’s tone was low, threatening, and enough to frighten Janir. Yet the sailor was unimpressed.

  “You think I am afraid of you, boy?” The captain puffed himself up to his full height. “What are you going to do?”

  Lucan gave an angry cry and slashed the captain’s throat with a concealed dagger and a swift motion.

  “I will not tolerate insubordination!” Lucan screamed. “Row! Ahead!” Glancing down at the still gasping body of the captain, her brother added, as if an afterthought, “Toss this in the sea.”

  For once, the Argetallams looked something other than unimpressed. Lucan cast them a glare to say he had no problem dealing with any of them the same way. This time they moved to obey his order without question and the sailors did the same. After all, if the boy was that bloodthirsty and cold, what must the men be like? Now even the Argetallams gave him a wide berth.

  That was the second time Janir had seen her brother kill. She looked determinedly away from the body, but she didn’t stop trying to talk reason into him. “You’ve fought one and you don’t think we should try negotiating?”

  “Firstly, I seem to recall that creature lost the last round. Secondly, how far away do they look to you?” Lucan demanded. “Two, three miles?”

  “One,” Saoven blandly interjected.

  “It hardly matters, onward!” Lucan snapped, seizing Janir’s chains with fury and yanking her and the others after him.

  Jerking their shackles mercilessly at every opportunity, Lucan dragged them to the front. After roughly securing all three of them near the prow again, Lucan strode back to tend to the ordering of the sailors.

 

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