As he waited, Sir Henry thought about his wife and hoped she was well. He might be back in time for the birth of his child. He felt ridiculously pleased at the idea of holding his tiny child in his arms.
A sailor brought in a bottle containing the very fine wine he’d bought while in Westfirth. The Rosians might not be good for much else, but they knew how to make wine.
“Set it on the table,” he ordered the sailor, who placed the bottle on the table, along with a corkscrew and two glasses.
“Why two glasses?” Henry demanded. “Do you see anyone else, you dolt?”
The sailor stared at him stupidly, apparently not comprehending. Sir Henry dismissed the fool man with a wave. He opened the bottle and poured a glass of the red wine. The fragrance filled the cabin.
I will drink to Dubois, he thought, and chuckled.
The sailor had walked over to the door, but instead of continuing on out the door, the man shut it, locked it, and came back to sit down in the other chair. The sailor faced Sir Henry with cool aplomb.
The fellow was typical of his type, dressed in duck trousers with a loose fitting shirt, sunburned with bare legs and feet. He wore a sort of stocking cap over his head. Henry glared, outraged, but instead of withering beneath his fury, the sailor crossed his bare legs and held out his glass.
“What is the meaning of this, sirrah?” Henry sputtered with fury. “Get back to work before I have you flogged.”
In answer, the sailor drew off his cap and shook out his hair. Or rather-she shook out her hair.
Long black curls fell around her slender shoulders. A few tendrils trailed over her face. Her gold-flecked eyes regarded Sir Henry with amusement. She held out her glass, indicating he was to pour the wine.
“Eiddwen!” he gasped.
“Hello, Henry,” said Eiddwen.
Chapter Forty-Three
Stephano de Guichen’s own true love is the blue sky of dawn, the orange mists of twilight, and the wings of the dragon that carries him to freedom.
No mere female can compete with such a rival.
- Miri McPike
THE DAMAGE TO THE CLOUD HOPPER WAS SIGNIFICANT, but not as bad as it might have been. Either the gunners aboard the man-of-war were excellent marksmen or terrible shots, for their cannons could have pounded the houseboat to splinters. Cannonballs wrecked the starboard wing lift tank and smashed several large holes in the hull. In a freak accident, one of these balls struck the galley stove, scattering burning embers while, at the same time, splinters from the hull hit a barrel of flour. The combination of flour dust and burning embers resulted in an explosion. In an ironic twist of fate, one of Miri’s healing ointments turned out to be highly flammable and the entire galley was soon burning merrily. The wooden structure of the hull was set with constructs to resist fire and the blaze was contained, but the galley and everything in it, including all their food, was a total loss.
Stephano didn’t have time to think about their future during the frantic moment when he, Dag, Miri, and Gythe were engaged in a desperate battle to save their boat. The sisters filled buckets with water from a nearby lake and flung them on the flames, while Dag and Stephano worked to smother the fire and beat out glowing embers, sometimes with their feet. Stephano saw out of the corner of his eye the merchant ship, Silver Raven, sail off, escorted by the man-of-war. He did spare a moment-several moments-to wonder what had become of Rodrigo. Had Wallace killed him? Stephano considered this likely. Wallace had no use for Rigo anymore, so why leave him alive? Stephano was desperate and grieving and furious and he poured his emotions into saving the boat, since he couldn’t save anything else.
When at last the fire was out, Stephano stood gasping for breath and wiping sweat from his face that was black from the smoke. He and his friends stood in the water-soaked, singed, and flattened weeds and brush, staring in mute sorrow at the ruins of the Cloud Hopper. They watched the smoke rise from the smoldering remains of the galley and trail out the gaping holes in the hull, gazed at the shattered wing and the broken lift tank and listened in dismay to the hiss of the magical Breath they would need to lift them from the island leaking out of the tank. The hard reality of their dire situation began to sink into all of them, with the possible exception of the Doctor. Terrified by the noise and the fire, the cat had leaped from the burning ship the moment it hit ground and disappeared into the surrounding woods.
Stephano saw Gythe looking stricken and woebegone. He made an effort to smile and put his arm around her.
“The damage would be a lot worse if not for your magic,” he told her. “Your protection spells kept the fire from reaching the powder kegs and held us together long enough so that Miri could make a safe landing.”
Gythe gave him a brave smile and an impulsive hug. Foreseeing the difficult times that lay ahead for all of them, Stephano felt tears sting his eyes. Muttering that it must be the smoke, he hurriedly wiped them away.
Miri had stayed at the helm as the ship fell like a crippled bird, steering the Cloud Hopper as best she could to a small clearing formed by a large dome of rock thrusting up out of the wilderness, not far from one of the island’s many lakes. The landing had been bone-jarring. They had all grabbed hold of anything they could hang onto and ridden the tumbling boat down.
Stephano had heard wood cracking, flames crackling. He’d seen Dag go flying across the deck and heard Miri scream, more in heartbreak than pain at the loss of her beloved ship. They had all managed to come through it without injury, save for Dag, who had an enormous lump on his forehead and bruised ribs.
Stephano flung himself down wearily on the ground. Miri was still standing by the wreckage, tears rolling unchecked down her cheeks, leaving trails in the grime that covered her face. Gythe put her arms around her sister, and both gazed sorrowfully at the ship that had been their parents’ only legacy.
Dag came over to sit down beside Stephano and held out a jug. Stephano could smell the sharp odor of calvados.
“Medicinal, sir,” said Dag.
Stephano hesitated, then said bleakly, “What the hell. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”
He took the jug, put it to his lips, and swallowed. The liquor bit into his throat and filled him with warmth. He coughed and handed the jug back to Dag.
“You all right?”
“Mostly,” said Dag in dispirited tones. “Miri and I will inspect the boat, go over the damage and report-”
“No hurry,” said Stephano bitterly.
He was quiet a moment, watching the smoke. He took another pull from the jug. “I made a pig’s breakfast out of this job.”
“It wasn’t your fault, sir,” said Dag stoutly. “You couldn’t know that bastard would have a bloody warship waiting for him.”
“My mother warned me about Wallace. Father Jacob warned me. I should have listened to them. But I was so goddamn arrogant, figured I was so goddamn clever that I could outsmart him. Now the Cloud Hopper is in ruins and we’re stuck here on some godforsaken island with no chance of being found and Rigo’s… Rigo’s…”
Stephano couldn’t finish. He put his hand over his face.
“He’s not dead, sir,” said Dag, an odd note to his voice.
“You can’t know that,” said Stephano.
“Yes, I can, sir. Look there.”
Dag rose to his feet, pointing to three bright flares-lavender in color-bursting above the treetops.
“Rigo!” Stephano exclaimed in relief. “He’s alive!”
“And expecting us to go save his lazy ass, of course.” Dag grumbled, but he was smiling as he said it.
“We have no food,” Miri said, coming to report. Her cheeks were streaked with tears and ashes, but she was brisk and matter-of-fact. “I suppose there’s wild game-rabbits and deer and such-to be had around here.”
She glared at Stephano. Her green eyes glittered in the sunlight. “I should punch you in the nose.”
“I wish you would,” said Stephano. “I deserve it. I’ll find a w
ay to get us out of here. I promise.”
“You will that,” Miri said fiercely. “And pay for the damage to my boat, too.”
“Of course,” Stephano said shamefacedly. “Miri, I’m so sorry.. .”
Miri didn’t answer. Instead she put her arms around him and hugged him close. Shaking back her red hair, she grinned up at him.
“Look at it this way,” she said, tears glimmering in her laughing eyes. “We are now the Cadre of the Truly Lost!”
Before he could clear the choking sensation out of his throat, Miri had slipped out of his arms and stood eyeing Dag and Stephano. “You both have burns on your arms and hands. Fortunately, a jar of my herbal mixture survived the flames-”
Dag cast an alarmed glance at Stephano. “Shouldn’t we go rescue Rigo, sir?”
“Yes, we should,” said Stephano hurriedly. “Bring your musket.”
Miri laughed and shook her head at both of them, then asked Gythe to help her haul out the spare sails to be used as makeshift tents. After a brief search, Dag found his musket and loaded it with powder and shot. Stephano retrieved his dragon pistol. Miri was draping sails over tree limbs to form leantos and Gythe was carrying blankets up from the smoke-filled hold when Doctor Ellington suddenly shot out of the woods, his fur standing on end, his ruff bristling, his tail three times its normal size, his green eyes wide. The cat leaped onto Dag’s shoulder.
“Something’s scared him,” said Dag, setting down his musket to soothe the terrified cat.
“Probably a mouse,” Miri remarked caustically.
Dag was about to make an indignant denial when Stephano ordered sharply, “Dag, don’t move!”
Dag froze, which was not easy, trying to hold the squirming cat in his arms.
“Don’t anyone move,” Stephano reiterated.
Hearing the urgency in his tone, Gythe stopped dead on the deck of the wrecked Cloud Hopper. Miri ducked swiftly beneath a sail and peered out.
“What is it?” she asked in a hissing whisper.
“Look there,” said Stephano softly. “By the lake.”
Gythe and Miri slowly shifted their gaze. Dag was facing the wrong direction. He tried to see, but couldn’t quite manage without moving.
“What is it, sir?” he asked urgently. “Pirates?”
“A dragon,” said Stephano.
The dragon had apparently been having a cooling swim when he’d been disturbed by the Doctor coming down to the water for a drink. The dragon rose up out of the lake, water cascading from the head and body, which was about twenty-five feet in length, or so Stephano judged. The dragon’s scales were crystalline blue, darker than the water. His head was elegantly shaped, the jaw elongated, the nostrils wide, the eyes emerald green, close set, and glittering. His blue mane ran from a central point in his forehead down his neck, all the way down his spine, and onto the tail. He stood in the water, tail lashing slowly back and forth, stirring up waves.
“Maybe the dragon’s never seen a cat,” said Dag, who had managed to twist his neck in order to see.
“I don’t think he’s ever seen a human,” said Stephano.
“A wild dragon!” Miri exclaimed, awed. “No one knew such creatures existed anymore.”
The wild dragon lifted himself out of the water. Unlike his large, ponderous, and civilized cousins, this dragon was smaller, his movements quick and graceful. He kept his keen eyes on the humans. He was curious about them, not afraid of them.
“He doesn’t seem to feel threatened by us, sir,” said Dag.
“Perhaps because he can squash us like bugs,” said Miri.
The wild dragon fluttered his wings in the lake, like a robin taking a bath, sending water splashing high into the air in sparkling droplets. He emerged to stand poised on the shoreline, regarding them with narrowed eyes, his nostrils flaring at the unusual smell of humanity. He seemed uncertain what to do.
“He’s a young dragon,” Stephano said. His heart ached at the astounding beauty of the creature.
“What do we do?” Dag asked, struggling to hang onto the cat, who was undoubtedly thinking fond thoughts of his storage closet. “We can’t stand here all day.”
“Yes, we can,” said Stephano. “The dragon has to make up his mind about us. He has to decide that we’re not a threat and that we’re also not dinner.”
“And how do we convince him of that, sir?” Dag demanded.
“The old stories tell of the first meeting of humans and dragons,” Miri said, her voice quivering with excitement. “Oh, Stephano, this is a dream come true-”
She was interrupted by crashing and blundering sounds emanating from the forest and loud swearing and then Rodrigo emerged from the woods, hot and sweating, his hair bedraggled, his stockings ripped to shreds. He came up short at the sight of his friends and stared at them indignantly.
“I thought you were all dead! And here you are! Perfectly healthy and lolligagging about-”
“Rigo, shut up!” Stephano said furiously, but it was too late.
Perhaps it was Rodrigo’s querulous tone or the crashing sounds or maybe the lavender coat. Whatever it was, there was something about him the wild dragon didn’t like. He lowered his head, green eyes flaring, and began to slink toward them, gliding rapidly over the ground, his body moving like blue quicksilver.
“Oh, my God!” Rodrigo gulped. “You should have told me you had company. What do I do? Climb a tree?”
Stephano drew his pistol. “Run for the Cloud Hopper.”
“Don’t hurt him!” Miri wailed.
“I’m not going to hurt him!” Stephano said through gritted teeth. He raised the pistol and pointed into the air. “I’m going to try to frighten him. Run! All of you!”
Rodrigo was already on his way. Miri hesitated, then she made a dash toward the boat. Dag dropped the Doctor and snatched up his musket. The Doctor, now feeling brave, hissed at the advancing dragon.
Stephano fired the pistol. The dragon was startled by the boom and stopped short. His head reared. His eyes narrowed to slits. The dragon regarded them warily. He did not take flight, as Stephano had hoped.
“Dag,” said Stephano in a low and even tone, “start backing up. Move slowly, make your way to the boat.”
“What about you, sir?” Dag asked.
“I’m right behind you,” said Stephano.
The two of them began to edge their way slowly toward the Cloud Hopper, both of them keeping their eyes on the dragon, who had his eyes on them. Small gouts of flame shot from his nostrils. Tendrils of smoke coiled from his mouth.
“I don’t think you made much of an impression, sir,” said Dag.
“I’m thinking that myself,” said Stephano.
“I could try to wing him-” Dag said, raising his musket.
“Shoot him and I’ll shoot you!” Miri shouted angrily.
“She would, too,” said Stephano. “If you hurt him, he’ll charge. On my word, make a dash for it.”
He tensed, ready to run, and then he heard Dag cry hoarsely, “Gythe, Girl dear, no! Get back!”
Gythe was walking calmly down the gangplank, carrying her harp in one hand and her little stool in the other. Stephano was ready to make a lunge for her, grab her, and drag her back.
Miri called out, “Leave her be, you men! She knows what she’s doing, far better than you two trigger-happy lunatics! Put away your guns, sirs, and come into the boat now, the both of you.”
Dag cast an agonized glance at Stephano. Dag was silently begging him to ignore Miri and carry Gythe out of danger. The big Guundaran did not know much about dragons, however Stephano did. He lowered his pistol and motioned for Dag to lower his musket.
“I think I know what Miri has in mind. We’ll go to the boat.”
Dag obeyed orders, though with a shake of his head, and went to guard Miri and Rodrigo on the deck of the Cloud Hopper. Miri was pale, but confident, standing with her arms crossed, her lips compressed. Dag put his arm around her and held her close.
Gythe calmly placed the little stool on the ground. She sat down, arranged her skirts, shook her blonde hair around her shoulders, placed her harp in her lap, and drew her hands across the strings. The dragon watched her warily all this time. His teeth bared warningly as she came nearer to him. His tongue flickered from between the front fangs.
At the sound of the music, the dragon blinked. Gythe ran her hands over the strings and then began to sing. Stephano recognized the song, one she frequently sang softly to the Doctor.
The dragon did not appear to know what to make of all this. He tilted his head to one side. His eyes narrowed again, but not in anger. He seemed to be enjoying the music.
“When we were invited to visit the houses of the noble dragons, they always loved to hear Gythe sing,” Miri said with quiet pride. “As I was about to tell you, the old stories relate that this is how humans and dragons first came to trust each other. Dragons love music, but they cannot make it. Music brought dragons and humans together.”
The dragon drew nearer to Gythe. Dag tensed, his hand clasping his musket. Miri rested her hand on his arm.
“Trust me,” she said softly. “Trust Gythe.”
The young dragon was quite close to Gythe now. His head hung over her. He could bite her in two with a snap of his jaws. Gythe appeared to take no notice of him. Her eyes were half-closed; she was lost in her music. Her fingers plucked and strummed. The harp strings quivered. Her voice-never used for speaking, only for song-rose in a melody, haunting and sweet and sad, that told the story of some long ago Trundler maiden, mourning her lost love.
The dragon lowered his head to the ground, stretched out his body, fixed his shining eyes on Gythe, and listened.
Stephano relaxed. Sweat ran from his forehead and trickled, stinging, into his eyes. He dared not move to wipe it away lest he break the spell. Of course, the time would come when Gythe would have to quit singing and there was no telling what the dragon might do then, but Stephano wasn’t worried. The dragon trusted them now. They had to continue to reinforce that trust and show the dragon that they trusted him. Time and patience would be required. Fortunately, Stephano had a lot of both.
Shadow Raiders tdb-1 Page 68