Master of the Five Magics

by Lyndon Hardy

  The wheel exploded from its post in a shower of splinters and careened across the deck. Grengor thrust out again, his sword biting deeply into an arm as it swung past, but the guardsman took no notice. Alodar watched in amazement as the axe rose high overhead and crashed it down on the post, splitting it asunder.

  “Enchantment, master Alodar,” Grengor called out. “Somehow the sorcerer from the south has made him a slave. I can dispatch him in a few strokes more, but I fear his damage is done. Get quickly below and alarm the rowers to bend their oars. Without the helm, we cannot long stay pointed into the wind. And the patch that was placed over the hole ripped by the wargalley may not last long if we are wallowing in the troughs.”

  Alodar grasped what Grengor was saying. Without another word, he ran from the deckhouse to the ladder leading to midship. Another wave toppled over the bow and raced down the deck. As the water coursed by, he felt a slight lurch and then saw the runoff at his feet reverse direction and head for the port side. With a backstraining pull, he flung the hatch cover aside and bolted downward to the first deck. He ran for midship where the passageway opened wide on either side to the benches of the rowers. As he sprinted along, he could feel a noticeable tilt to port as the ship responded to each wave.

  Up ahead, before he reached the benches, he heard the sound of a disturbance and saw several heads pop from cabins along the way. He pulled himself up as he passed the last cabin, ready to shout the alarm. But the sound died in his throat as he saw the reason for the commotion. Two more guards with Feston’s arm bands were hacking at the oars along the benches, ignoring the blows raining down to stop them.

  Another wave rolled under the ship, and Alodar grabbed for support as the deck tipped dizzily to the side. Through a port, he saw the choppy horizon shoot past skyward and then slowly return as the barge almost righted itself.

  Reversing direction, he sprinted the length of the ship. On a dead run, he barreled by the two guardsmen who stood with halberds at parade over a single entrance that led to cabins far aft. The men hesitated at Alodar’s approach, not immediately dropping their weapons to block the way.

  Alodar thundered past their indecision, yelling over his shoulder about an oversight as he passed. One turned to follow, then shrugged his shoulders and resumed his stance. Racing down the narrow passageway, Alodar pushed aside a curtain and exploded into a great cabin at the very stern of the ship. Only a few supporting posts interfered with a volume open from beam to beam, windowed on three sides with huge sheets of isinglass painted opaque by the bounding spray.

  Vendora shrieked at Alodar’s sudden entrance. Aeriel rose to her feet, eyes wide in surprise at the intrusion, Kelric sat numbly cross-legged before the two and responded not at all. “A full moon of pardons, my fair lady,” Alodar gasped, “but I fear the ship is in great danger. We must sound a general alarm before it is too late.”

  “What is the peril, Alodar?” Aeriel asked as she picked up her cloak. “What besides the storm presents risk for the royal barge?”

  “I am not a man of the sea,” Alodar replied, “but we have lost our steerage and with the weakened hull we may founder.”

  “Then there is no time,” Aeriel decided. “We must board the other vessels, those that can.”

  “The longboats are far smaller than the barge,” Alodar said. “They could be easily swamped in the high waves. Our safety would be greater if we could get the great ship about.”

  “Then which is it?” Aeriel said. “If the hull does not hold, there may be little time to change our minds.”

  Alodar quickly thought of the enchanted guardsmen and the struggle amidst the oars. “If I were to decide, my choice would be for the longboats despite their meager size. But by no means can we provide for everyone aboard.”

  “Then we shall begin with the queen,” Aeriel said waving her hand to the door.

  Alodar nodded, grasped Vendora by the waist and began to push her down the corridor. Aeriel tugged Kelric to his feet and spun him to follow. The two guards turned questioning glances to the queen as she came to their station, but she waved them to silence as she passed.

  The ship lurched violently as they reached the companionway to the main deck. Cabin doors along the corridor burst open in surprise. Vendora cried out as she reached for the railing and tumbled from her footing instead.

  “What happens with the fair lady?” Feston shouted as he peered out of his doorway in the direction of the queen. Receiving no answer, he reached back inside his cabin and buckled on his sword to follow.

  “Lord Feston races after the queen,” a voice shouted from another of the open doorways. In an instant Basil and Duncan also scrambled forth.

  Alodar pulled Vendora to her feet. As the ship righted, he pushed her up the ladder banging shins and ankles in his haste. They climbed but four rungs when the barge rolled again, this time heeling far over. Alodar grasped the rails with both hands and held Vendora against his chest as she fell backwards. Behind him he could hear Aeriel’s frantic struggle with Kelric as their feet slid from under them and they grasped wildly for balance. Alodar gathered up his strength and, with one thrust, shoved the queen to the hatchway. Holding her firmly with one arm, he shouldered the hatch aside with the other and stepped into the fury of the quickening storm.

  Grengor and the others of his band were there at the opening, extending arms to aid. He shoved Vendora forward and turned to pull Aeriel and Kelric up onto the deck. The wind now came at his side, stinging his cheek with the spray. The barge was wallowing in the troughs.

  “The longboats,” Alodar shouted. “We must get the fair lady safely over the side.” He led Vendora across the heaving deck and the party streamed after. They climbed the ladders to the stern and ran to where the two boats were battened besides the wreckage of the deckhouse. Quickly, the canvas covering was ripped away. Alodar thrust Vendora and then Aeriel into one of the hulls as the barge lunged dizzily when another wave rolled underneath. Feston and the others exploded from the hatchway as Alodar’s men cranked at the hoists and swung the boat over the side.

  With great leaping strides, Feston bounded across the deck and up the ladder. He plunged into the marines, shouldering several aside, and jumped aboard next to the queen. “Followers of lord Feston,” he bellowed above the wind, “assemble unto me and aid the fair lady.”

  The men scrambling on deck looked about hesitantly for a moment; then they shouted with alarm as they saw the activity at the stern. The boat began to lower, and they sloshed through the water, climbed up the ladders to the poop, and ran to the rail. A knot of men collected against the bulwark and, pushed from behind, Basil and Duncan tumbled aboard into the midst of Alodar’s small crew. The barge listed heavily and several more sprang to the rail and jumped into the descending boat.

  “Too many,” Alodar shouted. “We will sink as surely as the barge. Cast off, cast off before more hurl aboard.” Grengor and another of his men began to pay out rope more quickly and the sloop plunged away from the rolling deck.

  “Followers of my banner,” Feston shouted, “seize the second boat and after us.”

  “To my banner,” Basil yelled as loud. “Prevent the others from taking what we must have, and then after me.”

  Alodar looked up to the deck as his own boat hit the waves. He could see the beginnings of a mêlée as the factions fought with drawn swords for possession of the other longboat. In the press of battle no one could focus his attention on the blocks, and the boat remained immobile on the deck. Alodar turned back to his own plight and quickly counted the men aboard. Of his own eight, he saw that all had made it safely. Vendora, Aeriel, Kelric, Feston, Basil and Duncan were accompanied by a tangle of six more men. Whose supporters they were, he could not tell.

  “Man the oars,” he commanded. “Get us clear of the barge before some wave dashes us back into her side. You there, make room for the queen. My fair lady, if you and lady Aeriel can move forward, you will find that the small shelter will protect two
from the strength of this gale.”

  “I command the forces of the queen,” Feston growled as he wriggled himself erect in the pile of men amidship. But before he could say more, a wave broke over them ending a deluge of water into the midst.

  “The rest of you to the bailing,” Alodar continued and several of the men about Feston began to look for buckets in the hatchway aft. Feston glowered at Alodar for a moment, and then a second wave washed over the rails. The men about him filled and dumped buckets furiously. When Basil thrust one into Feston’s hands, he bent and started bailing with the rest.

  Alodar turned to look back towards the barge and saw that the thrust of the wind had opened a wide gulf between them. The huge ship was crosswind. As she rolled, the leeward rail almost touched the waves.

  “Grengor and you, Melab, in the rear,” he shouted. “Let us assemble the mast and try to erect it now. If we are lucky and the wind slackens, we will be ready to hoist sail.”

  Alodar glanced about the boat. Except for Kelric still lying in a jumble, his face barely above water, every man was usefully employed. He shut out all thoughts of the precariousness of their position and bent his mind to the task of raising the mast.

  Weary with cold and fatigue, Alodar steadied one leg on top of the small shelter and held the glass from the meager stores to his eye. The wind was dying beneath a placid moon, and the sea was growing calm. All about the boat, men slumped in the disarray of sleep. Alodar leaned against the mast, now holding aloft a sail unfurled to catch the breeze that remained from the storm. How soothing it would feel to collapse among the tangle of limbs at his feet and let consciousness slide away as it had from the rest. But he dared not relinquish the grip. So long as he stayed awake, threatening, cajoling, and pushing himself harder than any, the random collection of men who had jumped from the barge would act enough in consort to save their lives.

  Twice again Feston had balked at the continual bailing, but Alodar had stared him down. One of his marines and Duncan’s retainers squabbled over what constituted a fair share of the load, and he had pushed between them before their inattention let the boom run free and rake across the rear deck with a vicious sweep.

  They somehow had bailed enough to keep afloat, mended the sail at least thrice, and tumbled in rough water throughout. To relax now and let chance determine which of Feston’s, Basil’s or Duncan’s followers awoke first might throw away all they had struggled for in the past four days.

  With only half-open eyes, Alodar slowly scanned the sea. The clouds were all but swept away, but the sliver of moon did not provide enough light to see to the horizon. They must find land soon, and drifting about aimlessly the few hours till dawn was a waste they could ill afford.

  Alodar grimaced and collapsed the glass. He stepped down into the jumble of sleeping forms and gingerly picked his way to where Kelric was curled up in the stern. The sorcerer shivered in his sleep. His breath gurgled and wheezed as it struggled in and out of his lungs. His flesh was pale and hung limply on his scrawny frame. The exposure had been hard for all of them, but on the old man it had taken the greatest toll.

  Alodar bent down and gently shook him awake. In the quietness of the night, Alodar explained what had to be done and then listened attentively as Kelric provided the detailed instructions. In an hour, he had memorized the cantrip and returned to the shelter amidship.

  Alodar climbed wearily to the roof, made himself as comfortable as possible, and began the charm. Had he been fully alert, he would have spoken the words with great care, fighting the increasing resistance a measured step at a time. But both his mind and body were dulled. He rattled off the three repetitions like a schoolboy reciting his pledge to the queen. In an instant it was finished. He blinked in surprise at how mild was the internal reaction.

  Alodar slowly scanned a full circle from where he sat and then closed his eyes against the scene. An image of what he had just seen sprang into sharp focus as if lighted by the noonday sun. He willed his thoughts forward and, like a great-winged bird, he seemed to spring from the boat. Soaring low over the water, his mind raced ahead of the bow, straining for the horizon and sight of ship or land. The miles sped by, but the scene remained an unbroken circle of water as far as he could see.

  Gradually the rush of his thoughts began to slow; though he strained all the harder, the waves dissolved into an indistinct haze, and the sky dimmed. His pace slowed to a crawl and then, at the moment he seemed to stop, the scene blacked out from view. Instinctively Alodar realized he had reached the limits of his vision and brought his thoughts back to his inert body sitting on the shelter roof.

  With his eyes still closed, he turned his head and sought to port, again sailing over the waves far faster than any ship could take him. He breathed deeply as he finally slowed, hoping to see a landfall of Arcadia before the scene faded away. But when the blackness came, the ocean looked as unchanging as it had from the bow, and Alodar returned a second time to begin the search anew.

  He turned to starboard and saw over the horizon in a heartbeat. Before he even noticed any slowing, he saw a line of low hills pushing down to a sandy beach. Land, he dimly thought in his trance, land to the west and not far away.

  He willed his thoughts to return so that he could break the spell and head for shore; but to his surprise, the rush in his mind continued onward. Up into the hills his sight took him, past smouldering campfires and huddles of sleeping figures. On and on his thoughts raced, to higher and rougher ground. The mountains were cleft and folded, fissured and cracked with jumbles of boulders strewn about. Alodar’s attention wandered over the scene but then focused upon a slender spur of rock that soared before him. A monolith of cold granite, it stood like a giant spike thrust into the contours of the hills and seemed to challenge even the peaks beyond for height.

  Alodar recognized the spire as the one he had seen when he tried to use the sorcerer’s eye. As before, he felt himself drawn inside into a tomblike room. In the very center stood a stone coffin with a thick glass lid, and Alodar’s thoughts rushed forward to peer inside. He saw a man of middle age, eyes peacefully closed, and mouth curled up in a haughty smile. The hands were folded across the chest over a robe sprinkled with many small, stylized logos of flame.

  Alodar tried to look about the room, but the scene suddenly went black. He felt himself slowly pitching forward from the roof of the boat’s shelter. He quickly blinked his eyes open and grabbed at the mast to steady himself. A moment of vertigo washed over him and then a hot fever that turned his limbs to rubber. Alodar clutched at the mast to gain support and gradually the feelings subsided, leaving him weak and lethargic.

  Slowly Alodar climbed down into the hull and picked his way aft. For a moment, he puzzled at his vision but then pushed it aside, too weary to expend the effort when there were more important things to be done. The coast was not that far away; perhaps by late morning, they could be safely ashore.

  Alodar nodded his head with decision, loosened the boom and cut hard on the tiller to aim the small craft landward. The wind hit the sail at a flatter angle. With gathering momentum, the boat began moving towards the shore. Alodar leaned against the after railing, holding the craft on course and staring into the darkness.

  The hours passed, and gradually the sky brightened, until the boundary between sea and air could be discerned in all directions. Alodar watched the west. Finally a second hazy line appeared above the first. As the boat approached, it resolved into individual low hills that began to loom higher and higher on the horizon. Eventually the sound of breaking surf mingled with the whistling of the wind. Alodar saw a row of whitecaps racing up towards a sandy beach.

  With more seamanship and alertness, he might be able to bring the boat smartly about and drop sail and anchor. But such detail was beyond what little energy remained. Holding his course, the craft sped directly onwards and, with a sudden lurch, ran aground.

  The sleeping men scrambled awake with surprise. “You there,” Alodar shouted, �
�to the shelter and rouse the queen. And you on the left, give aid to the sorcerer. He is too weak even to walk on his own.”

  The men sluggishly complied and, one by one, dropped overboard to head for shore. Water began to bubble in through the hull. The longboat sagged gently to one side as she slowly filled. Duncan arose from a position in the bow. With shaking legs, he staggered to the queen.

  “At last, my chance to protect the fair lady,” he croaked through lips cracked from the salt air. He withdrew his sphere from the small bag at his waist. After several moments, Alodar could see a shimmering bubble of translucence which engulfed Duncan and Vendora. His two followers rolled the bubble up on the bulwark and tossed it into the waves, tumbling Duncan and Vendora together in a confusion of cloak and gown. Obviously, from its motions, the bubble could not be used in any rough sea. Alodar watched as the attendants jumped in after and began pushing the two landward, untouched by the chilling water. He saw Aerial come back to join him, as the last two, they jumped overboard and waded to shore.

  Watersoaked and fatigued as they were, simple foraging and lighting a fire took the rest of the day. Only Alodar’s curt commands and steadfastness kept tempers in line and limbs moving until it was done. As darkness fell, the small band huddled in close about the flame, seeking at last dryness, warmth, and rest from their ordeal.

  “Now that the emergency is over,” Feston said, rubbing his hands together and then touching the hilt of his sword, “we can, I feel, revert to our original chain of command. And my first direction is that we should abandon this beach and quickly search out a cave in the hills, so that the night can be spent in some sort of shelter.”

  “There is no strength left for that, Feston,” Alodar said. “We have already endured the elements for four full nights. Another will tax us less dearly than a search without light over the rough ground.”

  “I have given a directive,” Feston growled. With a savage gesture, he withdrew six inches of blade from his scabbard. A sudden rumble of disapproval checked his action, and Feston looked quickly about at the men who circled the fire. “You there, by your insignia, you are royal marines. Follow the orders of your commander,” he said.