The Seventh Sigil

by Margaret Weis

  “Where’s Gythe?” Dag bellowed.

  “She’s safe!” Miri shouted back. “Once I get off this boat and change into some dry clothes, I’ll explain everything.”

  Stephano gazed somewhat jealously at the man, who was wearing an oilskin coat over Trundler-made trousers.

  “We haven’t been introduced,” Stephano said coolly. “I am Captain Stephano de Guichen.”

  “Sir Conal O’Hairt,” said the man. “Knight Protector. I am glad to meet you. I was your mother’s traveling companion. She spoke of you often.”

  “What do you mean ‘was’?” Stephano demanded angrily. He fixed the knight with a dark look. “Where is my mother? What has happened to her?”

  “Calm down, Stephano,” said Miri crisply. “Your mother is safe—for the moment. Though why you should care is more than I can fathom. You never gave a damn about her before.”

  “Things have changed,” said Stephano remorsefully.

  He sighed and shook his head, unable to explain what he didn’t yet understand.

  Miri gave him a smile and a sympathetic pat. “Sir Conal and I are cold to the bone, wet to the skin, and starving. The sooner you stop talking and help us dock the boat, the sooner we will be ashore and can answer your questions.”

  Checking his impatience, Stephano helped Sir Conal lower the gangplank. Then he and the knight went below to retrieve a bundle of clothes for Miri and Sir Conal’s pistols. Once they disembarked, Stephano introduced Sir Conal to Dag, who appeared to be as amazed and baffled as Stephano. Miri had remained on board to see to it that everything was secure. Before she left, she stroked the helm lovingly.

  “You’re an ugly thing, Firinne, but you saved our lives,” she said to the houseboat. “I’m grateful.”

  Reaching the dock, Miri hugged Dag and gave him a kiss on the cheek. She picked up the Doctor, who had been rubbing around her legs, and hugged him.

  “I’m even glad to see you, you flea-bitten beast.”

  The startled cat apparently thought this unexpected show of affection meant his days were numbered. He gave a startled yowl, squirmed out of Miri’s arms, and fled.

  “You should say hello to them, too,” said Stephano, indicating the dragons flying overhead. “They’ve been concerned.”

  Miri looked up and waved. Petard gave a roaring hoot and performed a somersault. Viola and Verdi more decorously dipped their wings.

  “I was sorry to hear about their homeland,” Miri said. “Gythe told me.” Before Stephano could ask, she changed the subject. “Did I see the Cloud Hopper sitting in a field as I sailed in?”

  “Dag flew the Hopper here from the Abbey of Saint Agnes. You see—we knew you’d come back to us.”

  “You knew more than I did then,” Miri muttered. She looked up at the walls of the fortress, towering above them. “So this is Fort Ignacio. It looks like a skep.” She sighed and leaned against Stephano. He could see Miri shivering in her wet clothes. “Take me to my room before I collapse.”

  As they entered the fortress Sir Conal and Dag lagged a little behind them. Sir Conal was studying the fort with interest, asking Dag questions about its history. Stephano was trying to think where he was going to house his guests.

  “You and Sir Conal can both rest in my quarters while I sort out where you’re going to stay. Our quarters are a bit tight—”

  He was interrupted again by shouts from the lookout and the sound of Verdi bellowing.

  “Now what!” he said in exasperation.

  “I’ll go see what’s the matter, sir,” Dag offered.

  “We might as well all wait here. We’ll soon find out,” said Stephano.

  Sure enough, moments later, Master Tutillo dashed into the room.

  “Griffin riders sighted, Captain, flying this way. Four of them.”

  “Griffin riders,” Dag repeated. “Could be messengers from the prince.”

  “Could be,” Stephano said, but he was dubious. The prince would send one messenger, not four.

  “Best not to take chances. Give the order to hoist the flags, Master Tutillo. Signal the riders they can land, but I want marines out there to guard them. I’ll go see who they are. Dag, stay here with Miri and Sir Conal and find them something to eat. Rigo’s turned up,” he said to Miri. “He arrived today.”

  “Rigo! Someone else I never thought I’d be glad to see,” said Miri, grinning.

  “I’ll come as soon as I can,” said Stephano. He paused, not wanting to leave her. “God! You are beautiful!”

  “Get along with you!” Miri said, laughing and giving him a shove. “Go deal with your latest crisis.”

  He tore himself away. The landing site was located in the rear of the fortress near the cargo dock. Stephano entered the Ring and continued on his way past the two main barracks that housed the sailors and marines, their privies, and the dry goods store rooms. A corridor led to the dock, which was guarded by two gun emplacements, one on either side

  Stephano was in no mood to receive these new visitors, whoever they were, messengers from the prince or not. He wanted to be with Miri, to hear her tale, find out about his mother, and get answers to all the questions that were crashing about his brain.

  Stepping from the darkness of the fort into the bright sunlight, he had to take a moment for his eyes to adjust. By this time the riders had landed and the griffins were flexing their wings and keeping baleful watch on the dragons, while the dragons were circling overhead and keeping their own watch on the griffins. Stephano was glad to see the captain of the marines and his men watching the riders.

  The four men removed their helms and stood staring at the fort with interest.

  “Looks like a bloody beehive,” one remarked to one of his companions.

  That companion caught sight of Stephano and waved his helm in greeting. The gesture brought back the memory of the other time this man had waved a hat at Stephano.

  “Sir Henry Wallace!” Stephano exclaimed blankly.

  This was apparently his day for shocking surprises.

  “Captain de Guichen,” said Sir Henry, coming forward. “We meet again. I am pleased to see you.”

  “I can’t say the same,” said Stephano, his voice grating. “You are on Rosian soil. There is a warrant out for your arrest. And you have flown into a restricted area. Give me a reason why I shouldn’t order the marines to clap you in irons.”

  “I believe you have already met my traveling companions,” said Sir Henry, unruffled. “Father Jacob Northrop and your godfather, Sir Ander. The gentleman who made the disparaging remark about your fortress is Captain Alan Northrop. He saved your life in Braffa.”

  Stephano stared, confounded, and turned to Father Jacob.

  “I must confess, I am at a loss for words,” said Stephano. “The last I heard, Father, you and Sir Ander were imprisoned in the Citadel. Now you are here in the company of a Freyan spymaster and a pirate! I trust someone will tell me what is going on.”

  Father Jacob smiled. “That is a long story…”

  Of course, it would be. Stephano put his hand to his temples. His head was starting to ache.

  “Monsieur Dubois told us of your plan for the fortress, Captain,” Father Jacob explained. “We four agreed that we should meet with you. We propose an exchange of information.”

  Stephano glanced at Sir Henry. He did not trust him or his pirate friend, and he wasn’t sure he trusted the priest.

  “I fear I have no information I am willing to exchange,” Stephano said coolly. “I am sorry you have traveled all this way for nothing, gentlemen. I bid you a good day.”

  “May I speak to you privately, Captain?” Sir Henry asked. “I will take only a moment of your time.”

  Stephano hesitated, then he gave a brief inclination of his head, indicating Sir Henry was to accompany him. As they walked a short distance across the muddy ground, Sir Henry was silent, perhaps considering how to begin. Stephano wasn’t going to give him any encouragement.

  “This is fa
r enough, sir,” he said, turning to confront the Freyan. “Say whatever is it you have to say.”

  Sir Henry looked back over his shoulder at his three companions, who were regarding the fortress with interest and talking companionably.

  “Pirate, priest, soldier, spy,” Sir Henry commented. “Sounds like a child’s nursery rhyme or the start of a rousing jest, doesn’t it?”

  “I am extremely busy, sir—” Stephano began in frozen tones.

  “But this is not a jest, Captain. Far from it,” said Sir Henry gravely. “We have been brought together for a reason. Father Jacob would say we were guided by the hand of God.”

  Sir Henry turned his gaze toward the fort, where the mists of the Breath twined around the uppermost towers. The dragons flew overhead and the wind ruffled the Rosian flag.

  “It is my belief, Captain, that our wits, our reason, and our courage brought us to this day, to this place, at this hour. We have important information regarding the enemy you are about to face, Captain de Guichen. I am not being dramatic when I say we hold the fate of nations in our hands.”

  Brought us together. Stephano thought of Miri, who had traveled from God knew where. And Rodrigo, who had just arrived from Evreux. This day, this place, this hour. God’s guiding hand? Man’s reason? Whichever it was, he decided he needed to take advantage of the opportunity, though he would be very careful about what he shared.

  “We have been enemies in the past, sir,” said Stephano. “God willing, we will be enemies in the future.”

  “But for now,” said Sir Henry, “we are reluctant allies.”

  Stephano extended his hand. Sir Henry clasped the hand in his own.

  “We might as well be comfortable,” Stephano added. “If you gentlemen would consent to join me in my quarters, I can offer you sherry and biscuits.”

  * * *

  Stephano escorted his guests to the officers’ quarters, a block divided into three rooms: a large room meant for a study and off that two small bedchambers, one for him and one for Dag. Stephano had decided to move out of his bedroom, and give it to Rodrigo, while Dag would give his to Miri. Both Stephano and Dag would bunk in the study. As he herded everyone into the small study area, shoving aside furniture to make room, Stephano looked around at the assembly. Pirate, priest, soldier, spy. Add to that a Trundler, a knight, and Rodrigo. One was not likely to find a stranger meeting of the minds. Or, as Rodrigo said, “a meeting of stranger minds.”

  Father Jacob latched on to Rodrigo the moment he saw him and the two disappeared into Rodrigo’s bedroom and shut the door to discuss magic in private. The bedroom was visible from the study and Stephano tried very hard to ignore the green glowing light he saw seeping through the cracks around the door.

  Sir Ander was delighted and amazed to find his comrade and longtime friend, Sir Conal. They kept their voices low. Stephano heard him ask questions about a “monastery.” The knight seemed extremely disturbed to hear whatever Sir Conal said in return.

  Miri had changed into the dry clothes she had brought with her and was sipping a glass of Calvados when they entered. Sir Henry greeted her with pleasure and Alan Northrop with admiration. Stephano handed around the bottle of sherry. Alan chose to share the Calvados with Miri.

  “Now,” said Stephano, relaxing. “Will you please tell your tale? Miri, you start.”

  Miri began by talking of her journey to Glasearrach. She described the invasion fleet and meeting Xavier and the Blood Mage. She told them about the drumming that was destroying the magic here Above and about how Gythe and the princess were being forced to try to stop the terrible wizard storms in time for the invasion.

  Miri spoke of finding Brother Barnaby and how he came to be working for the resistance. She told what she knew about the abduction of the Princess Sophia and how the countess and Sir Conal had gone to save her.

  The men listened in awe and astonishment. When she spoke of the countess, Stephano kept his head down, his face averted. He was filled with relief to know his mother was safe, proud of her for making the terrifying journey, and consumed by remorse for his former harsh treatment of her. He could have gotten down on his knees to beg her forgiveness. He prayed to God she would live to see him be a better son.

  “What is the date Xavier plans to launch this attack against us?” Sir Henry asked.

  “Fulmea the first,” said Miri. “They will coordinate the invasion with their forces already here. They have something special planned for Freya, according to the countess.”

  Alan poured himself another drink. “We believe we have discovered the plot. Think of this as Freya.” He picked a biscuit, cracked it in half and dropped the crumbs onto the floor.

  Sir Henry described the boulders and Simon’s theory.

  “Seven days,” Sir Henry remarked, gazing into his half-empty glass. “Dubois told us about your plan. Can you arrive on the island in time to stop them, Captain?”

  “I will have to,” said Stephano simply.

  Sir Henry consulted his watch. “And now it is time to depart. We need to be in Haever by tomorrow.”

  Stephano went to fetch Father Jacob and Rodrigo. He found his friend in a daze, dazzled, awestruck by whatever the priest had told him.

  “I’ve seen wonders, Stephano,” Rodrigo said softly. “Wonders beyond description. Magic suddenly makes sense.”

  As the men were putting on their cloaks, Father Jacob extended his hands. “This may be the last time we are ever together,” he said. “Let us pray.”

  Captain Northrop muttered something, which caused Sir Henry to cast him a sharp glance; Northrop subsided.

  “The world is changing,” said Father Jacob. “For good or for ill, nothing will ever be the same. God grant us strength and courage to defend the innocent and give us the wisdom to face change with understanding, without fear.”

  Miri whispered something to Father Jacob. He put his arm around her, embraced her and kissed her gently.

  “Time to go,” said Sir Henry.

  Stephano escorted them out of the fortress to where their griffins waited. The Breath was calm this night, and the stars glittered in the heavens. Stephano tried to imagine what it would be like living Below, never seeing the stars, rarely seeing the sun or feeling its warmth on your face.

  He was about to find out.

  “Captain de Guichen,” said Alan, walking up to him. “I wish you luck in your battle, sir. I hope to someday have this fortress of yours in my gun sights.”

  “At which time, it will be my pleasure to blow you out of the sky, Captain Northrop,” said Stephano.

  He bade good-bye to Sir Henry and Father Jacob. As they were walking to their griffins, Stephano stopped Sir Ander.

  “I need you to answer a question, sir. Were my mother and my father married?”

  Sir Ander regarded him in astonishment, taken aback by the suddenness and bluntness of the question. He glanced at the others, who were mounted and waiting impatiently.

  “Your mother and father were married the night before your father’s execution, Stephano,” said Sir Ander quietly. “They spent that last night together in each other’s arms.”

  Stephano could not speak for the emotion that choked him. Sir Ander saw, and put his hand comfortingly on his shoulder.

  “Your mother kept the secret to keep you safe,” he said. “God willing, you will be able to ask her yourself.”

  The griffin riders took to the air, flying west, toward Freya. Stephano stood in front of the fortress gazing after them. A single dragon, Verdi, patrolled the skies, keeping watch. The griffins gave him a wide berth.

  The world is changing …

  This day, this place, this hour …

  Seven days …

  “And so it begins,” said Stephano.

  26

  We are the warp and the woof of Fate.

  —Simon Yates

  After a long and weary journey, upon arriving in Haever, the travelers went first to the Naval Club, which had accommodations
for the griffins. They were met by Mr. Sloan in a wyvern-drawn carriage.

  “Master Yates has invited all of you to stay with him, gentlemen, if that is agreeable.”

  “I won’t sleep in the room with the stuffed bear, Mr. Sloan,” Alan stated.

  “Master Yates recalled the unfortunate incident with the bear, Captain,” said Mr. Sloan. “Saying he did not want any more bullet holes in the wall, he suggested that Mr. Albright and I move the bear to safer quarters.”

  “Very good, Mr. Sloan,” said Alan.

  He and Sir Ander both fell asleep in the cab. Father Jacob remained awake, gazing out the window at the lights of the city below.

  “How does it feel to return to the country you betrayed?” Henry asked, quietly observing the priest.

  “I did not betray my country,” said Father Jacob mildly. “I left to serve God.”

  Henry settled himself more comfortably in the corner of the carriage.

  “Alan loves you, Jacob,” said Henry. “That’s why he hates you so much.”

  Father Jacob sighed and lowered the curtain, blotting out the lights. “My brother has reason to hate me. I betrayed my family, if not my country. I was young and infatuated.”

  “In love with God?” Henry suggested.

  “You are being sarcastic, but that is what happened,” said Father Jacob. “I was in love with God. If I felt a twinge of conscience over the grief I brought to Alan and my father, I told myself I was making the sacrifice to serve the Church.”

  “Do you still believe that?” Henry asked. “Now that you’ve discovered the Church’s lies and the crimes committed in the name of your God?”

  “All of us lose the starry-eyed illusions of our youth. My faith has been dented,” Father Jacob admitted. “It is need of repair, but it will be stronger for the mending. What about you, Henry? You profess to doubt the existence of God. Yet every man believes in something.”

  “Certainly not religion!” Henry gave a brief laugh of disdain. “I’ve watched your kind brutally kill each other in the name of a deity who preaches love and peace. I find it all ludicrous.”

  “I think God would agree with you,” Father Jacob remarked.