The Eyes of Sarsis

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The Eyes of Sarsis Page 13

by Andrew J Offutt


  They went side by side, the casque-wearing royal guardsman and the bareheaded pirate with his long hair drawn back and bound by a cloth-of-gold band. Stolen, of course.

  They entered Caranga’s cabin to find him awake and sitting up in bed. On the cabin floor lay several wine bottles. Empty.

  “Where’s Tiana? How did the battle go?”

  “It would appear,” Bardon replied, gesturing at the bottles, “that a mighty battle has been fought in this cabin.”

  “Bah, that was just Tiana’s sweet trick to make me sleep through the battle. It’s shameless the way that girl treats her poor old father. Now where is she and what happened?”

  Bardon related the events of the previous evening while Berrock stared at the massive hair-matted black chest. As he listened, Caranga’s face lined with worry, then grew hard. Bardon finished.

  “Berrock,” Caranga rumbled, “you were among the Ilani soldiers who arrested Vixen’s crew in Reme.”

  The sergeant looked somewhat discomfited. “Well, yes. No hard feelings, I hope. Just obeying orders.”

  “In fact, you were in command. Kathis made the plan and set the men “in place, but then he made some excuse and left you to carry out his plan.”

  “Why, yes, how did you know?”

  “It’s obvious. Had I not been a blind fool I would have solved this riddle in time to save my daughter. Kathis could not be at Zolgis’s pleasure house at the same time the white cat was at the Wayfarer!” Neither Berrock nor Bardon spoke; the one’s eyes showed confusion and the other’s growing horror. Caranga tried to keep his voice flat and hard, to conceal the weight of despair he felt. “You were right about one thing, Berrock. Tiana will not return. Either she’s a helpless captive, or — more likely, dead.”

  “Drood grasp me!” Bardon breathed. “What shall we do?” He made no effort to hide his fear and confusion.

  “Return to your regular duties. I am assuming command.”

  The responsibilities of command had made both men ill at ease but neither would willingly yield his authority.

  “No,” snapped Berrock. “We two was left in charge!”

  “You’re too weak,” added Bardon.

  Each man was so unwise as to place a restraining hand on Caranga’s chest as he started to rise from bed. For Bardon the entire room seemed to rotate. Then he looked up from the floor at Caranga towering above him, his foot resting heavily on Bardon’s chest.

  Bardon spoke quietly. “Your orders, sir?”

  Caranga gestured toward the unconscious Berrock. “Carry that out of here.”

  The black pirate stood erect and proudly naked until the second mate departed with the soldier. Then Caranga nearly collapsed onto his bed. He had flattened those two chiefly by the skill of his arm, not its strength. Yet even that mild exertion made him dizzy and feeble.

  Well Susha’s swinging paps, I’ve babied myself too much! He could have forced himself to be up and about before this. In fact if only he had been up last night, instead of sodden with wine, he might have …

  Self-recriminations were useless. Tiana had rowed off with a deadly enemy. If she was dead, she was dead. If she lived, saving her would require all his wits. Caranga rose slowly and dressed carefully — and gaudily. The crew was frightened. To give them courage he must present an image of iron strength. None of his wounds had pulled open; none were infected. If he used his strength carefully he could manage.

  He sauntered out on deck and surveyed Bardon’s efforts at camouflage. There was no need to muster the crew; curiosity drew them.

  “Hello lads. I got tired of resting. Last night you did a good job dirtying our Vixen. Tonight you’ll do a better job cleaning her, for at dawn we sail into the stronghold of the ‘pirates’ of this middenheap island. King Hower sent us to take his daughter from the Krollers with our swords, and so by Susha we shall! But first we’ll lie to them. Just a little. Our story is that I am an emissary of His Kingship, come to arrange the payment ransom for the princess. Greed will force Storgavar to receive us. When we know what’s about, we’ll take … appropriate action.”

  Caranga looked about at them. Some were grinning. Nervousness was visibly evaporating.

  “Berrock, choose ten of your soldiers and make sure every bit of their armor is polished and shining. Bardon, choose twenty of our sweet crew who might pass as honest seamen.” Caranga winked. “Susha’s armpits, what a task, eh! All the rest will remain below decks at all times. We hide our strength until it is time to strike. Now I’ve got to see to some charts. Move!”

  Caranga retired to his cabin. Fortune favored him in one regard; to play his part he needed an elaborate dress uniform and this he had. The fit was good if not perfect. The tabard had been slightly damaged when Caranga impaled the previous owner, a Captain Zud, but Tiana had mended it that so it scarcely showed. After assembling everything he would need tomorrow morning, he eased himself onto his bunk. Bardon could supervise the preparations, and Caranga knew that tomorrow would demand much of him. He slept.

  The dream began to form slowly. He knew he was in total darkness. He was not alone. There was movement in the dark, a vast slithering. The odor was of something huge and reptilian. Without wondering how he knew, he was sure that Tiana was somewhere in this darkness, in grave danger. He ran to find her, but his feet were turned in circles so that he rushed madly about going nowhere. With each passing moment the situation grew more desperate. Then, in the distance, he saw a light. To find Tiana he needed a guide in this darkness and he rushed toward the light. Nearing, he saw that he approached a block of ice, set ablaze and burning with a brilliant flame of aventurine green. By this light he could see into the darkness: a great snake was about to swallow an apple and that apple was the world.

  Once Caranga saw this, all faded. For a moment he drifted in a limbo, then the dream was repeated. And then again.

  Caranga awoke in a cold sweat. His thrice-experienced dream … was it a portent, a warning of what he must do? Or was it only indigestion? It had not been a dream as other dreams. A normal nightmare may be vivid, but the dreamer does not sense he is being forced to watch it. This dream had compulsion, as if some iron hand had held his head and made him watch.

  Well, it didn’t matter. If the thing had meaning it was not a meaning he could see. The night was best forgotten. Dawn was here.

  He dressed in his finery, then stepped grinning out on deck. The sun was a ball of red gold in the east and the morning breeze was brisk and favorable. Soon men were staring at Caranga, pointing, calling out comments.

  “All right, you baying hounds,” he roared, “lift anchor and make sail. Today we will either save Captain Tiana and the princess, or we’ll feed the sharks. I for one am dressed to meet a princess … or Theba Herself.”

  Caranga’s tall boots and tight leggings were black, divided by the scarlet of the boots’ rolled tops. His mail-coat gleamed a dark blue-gray in which gilded links flashed and winked. Over it hung the tabard, a sleeveless front-and-back cloak of scarlet emblazoned with a rampant dragon in gold thread. His helmet was a peaked casque surmounted by a gilded dragon. The huge buckle of his shining black belt was of solid gold, as big as his hand minus the fingers. Gold, too, was the hilt of his — Captain Zud’s — sword.

  He had left off poor old Zud’s ridiculous jingly spurs.

  As they neared the harbor, Caranga noted only small ships, several. Perhaps most of the enemy’s fighting men were asea. How nice! If it were so, he must forget his plans and attack at once. He had after all captained this ship for years ere he had handed it over to his foster daughter, while he retired — and returned from that boredom to act as First Mate to a woman in love with command and competent at it as well.

  Ships were not all that was missing from the harbor of the Krollers’ keep. The docks were empty. From where he stood in his vessel’s prow, the pirate could see six guardposts — all unmanned. Behind the docks lay the tangle of buildings that served these island-dwelling pirates
as a town. The streets were empty.

  Weird. And no one even comes to draw at the well! The hideous dark scars told him that part of the town had burned last night. Burned down. One low building still smoldered. The fire had spread, he saw, until it was stopped by that wide street. Since there had been no wind last night, the flames had spread only because no one had fought them.

  “Oh, pox take it, why must this sweet world contain so many mysteries?”

  He heard murmuring among the crew. They were prepared to carry out a dangerous imposture, but their audience had vanished. They were fighting shadows.

  Caranga felt dismay — and, as leader, must put up a bold front anyhow.

  “The cowards have fled!” he called, forcing a smile. “Helmsman! Steer for that dock to larboard.”

  As soon as Vixen docked, Caranga marched ashore with ten men. The small group was enough for a search while being easily controllable. Each wore a sword and carried a spear.

  The first building they entered had been a tavern. Some of the tables and chairs were overturned. The big room stank of spilled ale and the floor was littered with mugs and broken crockery. Splotches here and there were easily identified as fresh blood. Hanging undisturbed above the door was a gold-embossed sword, definitely Thesian, apparently the trophy of some past success. The small but flawless ruby in the hilt made it valuable. While Caranga considered that, a man called up that the cellar was well stocked; Caranga ordered three kegs carried back to Vixen. A few mugs after supper would ease the crew’s nerves and their griping. The kitchen yielded no food; every shelf was bare.

  The next several buildings told the same story. The people had been taken, swiftly. If they fought, it had been brief and unsuccessful. Whoever seized them did not deign to take their valuables. Only food was missing. And bodies.

  Caranga recognized the fulfillment of the first portion of his dream. This mystery was darkness, and Tiana was lost in it. Who had kidnapped the people of Kroll Isle? What, for sometimes it wore the shape of a man, the soldier Kathis; and sometimes the shape of a white cat. Of its true nature Caranga knew only that it was powerful, and evil. Why had the people been carried off? He had no doubt that the answer would be grim. Even the how of it was a problem. Three large ships had sailed yesterday. Yet even with people crowded in like slaves, there would hardly have been enough room.

  He continued the search in that town of eerie silence. Soon they learned that some of the Krollers had remained. In a narrow alley they found a tangled pile of corpses, all drained of blood.

  The pattern was clear, now. The Enemy planned a long sea voyage and loaded the ships accordingly. Large amounts of food for the islanders — and they themselves as food for the Enemy!

  No doubt other heaps of bodies were scattered over the island. Did Tiana and Princess Jiltha lie in one of them? Caranga thought not, and did not intend to search. If his daughter still lived, he must pursue the three ships and rescue her. If not, he’d have vengeance.

  As he made this vow to himself, he knew it was empty. The ocean was wide and trackless. His quarry had more than a full day’s start. He had no idea of its course or destination. He had nothing at all, save for a dream. A dream!

  Caranga, who prided himself on being a practical man, must choose: abandon all hope or base his actions on a dream. He knew Bardon thought him too old and weak to command Vixen. Well, perhaps he would prove that sad-faced white boy right, but he would take whatever fate gave him.

  He led his men into the town’s burned-out section. One building still burned a little, and it stank. There were many things that building might logically be; the least likely choice was an ice-house for ice was rare in this part of the world and mountains not close. The charred door opened at his touch and Caranga was not surprised when he stepped into cold.

  He had found burning ice.

  But where was the light that would find Tiana? Caranga asked himself the meaning of fire burning on ice and a most unpleasant answer suggested itself. To save his daughter he must follow the leadership of one more dread than all the demons in hell!

  “You,” he yelled at the nearest soldier; “Make a torch and light it from the fire on this building.”

  That was quickly done, and the black pirate grasped the torch. He passed the flame close to a block of ice. Most likely this was not needful, but he wanted to be certain the charm was complete. Caranga led his men back to Vixen. Placing the torch in the prow, he ordered the ship back to sea. There was nothing left to do on Kroll Isle; nothing at all.

  The vessel was swiftly under weigh. “Captain, what course?”

  Caranga stood silent. As he half expected — with a crawling of his backbone — it was the torch that gave answer. The flame grew longer, brighter until it was a brilliant pale green finger of fire. It turned and pointed … into the wind .

  Caranga said calmly, “That is our course, and though it leads to heaven or hell we shall follow it.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The light was so strong that it bleached all things and nothing could be seen. She was running through the blinding white void, yet she did not seem to be moving. Anger formed. How dare they do this to her? She was — who? It didn’t matter: she was important to herself and she would make others treat her with respect!

  As her rage mounted like roiling thunderheads, the void thickened. Glutinously, it resisted her motion. At first it merely seemed there were feeble cobwebs in her path. Then they were cobwebs. Then there were more and more of them, until she was wrapped in a tight cocoon. In a burst of fury she tore through the cocoon and Tiana awoke.

  Her first vision was the face of Princess Jiltha. “Oh Captain, thanks be to Theba you’re awake. We were so worried.”

  The girl began to weep hysterically. Tiana tried to reach her — and could not. She was chained, secured spread-eagle to the floor. The princess was chained similarly to a bed. Next to Tiana was the third captive — the blond giant Jiltha had found. Tiana noted that their captor did things in proportion. Gold bands were fastened about Jiltha’s ankles and wrists, with light silver chains, connecting them to the bedposts. Tiana’s iron manacles were attached by short lengths of strong chain to bolts set in the flooring. For the giant, the oaken planks had not been reckoned strong enough. His massive chains were attached to steel beams. It was hard to imagine how a man so weighted with iron could move at all, but apparently the giant was something of a problem to their guards since someone had left several teeth on the floor.

  The entire chamber was moving. They were at sea! From the pattern and degree of movement, they lay in a large ship under full sail amove through heavy seas. This cabin had once been lavishly decorated; now the velvet drapes were tattered rags. Where one would expect gold ornaments were only gaping holes. Of what was probably a lovely chandelier there remained only a few bits of broken glass. The waste vaguely annoyed Tiana. No doubt the Kroll pirates had worked hard to steal this ship and they had been foolish not to take better care of their property.

  Still, that was their problem. Tiana had enough trouble of her own. Not that this was her first time chained down like a starfish! At least this time she wasn’t naked. She spoke firmly.

  “Jiltha, you are a princess. You must act with courage worthy of your high birth. We’re in great danger and our only hope is to be brave.”

  The girl controlled herself with some difficulty. “I — I suppose I should make in-introductions. Captain Tiana Highrider, may I present Captain Bjaine. I believe you both came to rescue me from the Kroll pirates.”

  Tiana stared at the Northron in frank admiration. He was a magnificant physical specimen. His huge frame was in perfect balance and proportion. The hard, corded muscles of his arms and legs bespoke not merely strength but speed and agility. Although his face showed the marks of a hard and violent life, it also showed a personality that loved life. Bjaine was a bronze giant crowned with golden hair and Tiana was immediately attracted to him.

  She was well aware that his ice-c
olored eyes were roaming over her body, up the fine round curves of her bare legs, across her firm almost inexistent stomach and narrow waist, then onto her full breasts. He stared most intently at those last, and she guessed he was trying to make out her nipples through her green silk shirt. She pressed her shoulders down, pulling the shirt even tighter.

  Well, she thought, chained like this we certainly can’t get anywhere just staring hungrily at each other! By the Cow’s back — what a boy! She spoke.

  “I gather you were the leader of the Thesian raiding party, Captain. I know you were captured but I don’t understand how you escaped.”

  The Northron laughed. “That fool Storgavar thinks himself the only strong man in the world, but I can open his locks as well as he, that’s how.”

  “Better, since he’s dead now.”

  Bjaine frowned, for thought was not among his habits. Yet, in view of the mystery there was no avoiding it. “You say Storgavar’s dead. Our guards talk like he’s alive and in command of this ship. Can you explain what’s going on here?”

  “Partially.” Beginning with the events of the Wayfarer Tavern, Tiana related her adventures. “When I killed the Bear,” she concluded, “I thought I had disabled the Eye. Apparently it has some power to drive even the dead to its purpose. Once it opened the chest, it gained the magical powers of the Jewels of Ullatara. The crew sees him as their Storgavar.”

  The pale-haired, pale-eyed man smiled broadly. “Girl, I’ll give you credit: you spin a tale passing well. Now tell Bjaine: what’s your real name and what’s happened to you?”

  “My name, boy, is Tiana Highrider of Reme, Captain of Vixen!” She spat the words in anger. “A pirate ship. Crewed by men.”

  “Now now, we both know it’s impossible for a girl to command fighting men. You southern people are soft and weak, but even here nothing so contrary to nature could happen. Now, really. What’s your name?” His smile was beautiful. Teeth like snow. Dog!

 

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