Voyage of the Fox Rider

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Voyage of the Fox Rider Page 36

by Dennis L McKiernan


  “And just how do we know this?”

  Aylis turned to Bokar. “We know this because my father said so.”

  “Is he always correct?”

  “No, Armsmaster, but he is always truthful.”

  Bokar turned his face to the sea and watched as the dinghy drew farther away. “Then let us hope that he is correct as well as sincere.”

  Tivir came to the foredeck bearing a tray of tea, offering it all ‘round. Aravan and Jatu each took a cup, the others declining, their eyes fixed on the now distant boat.

  “Oy,” said Tivir, peering at the dinghy as well, “they tell me Maige Aliamar needs t’ be alone t’ meet th’ Children o’ the Sea. Naow, if ‘at’s so, then just ‘ow is ‘e going t’ do it, eh?”

  Jatu turned to the cabin boy. “Tivir, your meaning…?”

  “Just this, Mister Jatu: Oi mean, if ‘e’s got t’ be alone, then is th’ crew going t’ leap from th’ dinghy ’n’ swim back? Or is ‘e instead going t’ tread water? Wot’ll it be, eh?”

  Jinnarin grinned. “Just watch, Tivir.”

  Bokar growled, “I told him that he should tow a dinghy after, but did he listen? Oh no. No sitting about in a boat for him. Instead—”

  “There he goes,” interjected Jatu.

  While the Men and Dwarves aboard the dinghy gesticulated wildly, as if arguing with Alamar, the elder clambered over the starboard wale and walked out on the surface of the sea, as if the long, low swells were nought but dry land gradually rising and falling.

  “Oh, lor!” breathed Tivir. “Naow Oi’ve seen it all, Oi ‘ave.”

  With a disdainful wave of a hand, Alamar dismissed the crew of the dinghy, and they turned about and pulled oars for the Eroean, coming back considerably faster than they had gone.

  When they had nearly reached the ship, Alamar drew up his sleeve and squatted down, immersing the wrist with the bracelet into the brine. He remained motionless for some lengthy time, then with effort stood upright again, holding his hands to the small of his back and slowly twisting and stretching.

  “Oh my,” murmured Aylis, “he does so need to return to Vadaria.”

  Time passed, an hour or so, the ship continuing its deosil drift as the Sun crept down the sky, and all the crew stood transfixed at the larboard rail and marvelled over the old Mage standing as he did on nought but water, the dinghy crew below marvelling as well. And on the foredeck, Aylis, Aravan, Jinnarin, Jatu, and Bokar stood watch…and slow swells passed below in the pale green sea.

  At times Alamar paced in a small circle; at other times he squatted and plunged his bracelet into the brine, each time getting up more slowly.

  “How long can he keep this up, chieran?” asked Aravan.

  Aylis shook her head. “Father says that it is a simple casting. Even so, given his lack of youth, it must be draining. —Oh where are the Children of the Sea?”

  Tivir brought more tea, along with slabs of bread and a new jar of Tholander honey, and this time all partook of his bounty. And still the Sun crept down toward the horizon and still the ship drifted. Until…

  “Cap’n,” called down the mainmast lookout, “something moving under the weed!”

  “Where away?” called Jatu.

  “It’s making a run at the Mage!” the lookout cried.

  “Kruk!” spat Bokar. “I knew that he should have warriors with him! —Stand by ballistas!” he called to the crews. “Ready to cast!”

  Jinnarin’s heart hammered in her breast, and Aylis’s lips drew into a grim line.

  “Hold, Bokar!” barked Aravan, the amulet at his throat emitting no chill. He called to the mainmast lookout, “Man-size or bigger?”

  “There’s more than one—”

  “Look! Look!” cried Jinnarin.

  In a wide ring about Alamar five dolphin came leaping out of the water, gracefully arching up and over and down, splashing into the weedy brine, ripples marking the surface where they had been. Again the pod leapt, still in a ring, this time closer to the Mage.

  “Oh my,” breathed Jinnarin, “how elegant.”

  Aravan glanced down at her. “I deem, Lady Jinnarin, that they herald the coming of the Children of the Sea.”

  Once more the dolphin arched up and over, even closer to Alamar, the splash of their entry showering the Mage. Jinnarin burst out laughing as Alamar raised a clenched fist and shook it at where the dolphin had been, though she could not hear what he was yelling.

  Now in a wide ring about Alamar, the dolphin came to the surface and took up station, their sleek muzzles out of water, their curious eyes fixed upon the Mage, their high-pitched voices chattering, calling.

  And then another sleek head broke through the water, and another and one more—three altogether, with flowing silver locks…

  …The Children of the Sea had arrived.

  Slowly the Merfolk swam to and fro, seldom pausing, maintaining a margin of four yards or so between themselves and the stranger.

  Alamar gazed down at the three, with their translucent, pale jade flesh and delicate elfin features, their large, catlike light green eyes and their silvery hair spreading in the water. A bit smaller than Magekind, they were, and a long, wide, webbed fin ran down each side of their supple bodies, from shoulder to ankle, merging with their finlike feet, and a similar fin ran along the outside of each arm. All three returned the Mage’s gaze, and one—the one slightly to the fore—glanced at the drifting ship and then back at Alamar and raised a hand, his long, webbed fingers spread wide. “¡Tklat!”

  As the pod of dolphin slowly swam a circular path, stopping every now and again to turn a dark eye to the proceedings, Alamar searched his mind for the tongue he had learned long past, for unlike his daughter, he could not simply say a and know a language.

  [“Yes, it was I,”] he said. Alamar drew back his sleeve and turned his wrist so that the bracelet glittered in the angling sunlight.

  The Child to the fore cocked his head to the side, his slitted pupils expanding slightly. Then he smiled, his wide mouth showing a row of pointed white teeth. [“You are a Friend?”]

  [“Yes. I was given this by Sinthe, she whom I saved at the Isle of Faro.”]

  [“Faro?”]

  [“Yes. It is in the…hm…it is a small island in what are called the Twilight Waters, there on the edge of the Bright Sea. It has a tower on it: Lady Katlaw’s tower.”]

  Now the swimmers looked at one another and smiled, and the one to the fore turned back to Alamar and said, [“Ah, Lady Katlaw. Another Friend.”]

  One of the Merfolk swam ‘round the leader and said. [“I would see this bracelet of yours.”]

  Alamar grunted down to one knee on the water and held out his wrist. Timidly, the one came forward and reached up a slender finger to the circlet, gently touching the red coral inset. Now through the pellucid water Alamar could see that she was female, somewhat like Sinthe, with her small breasts and sleek form, the cartilaginous gill slits along her rib cage now closed since she was breathing air. She turned her exotic face to his and smiled, and Alamar felt his heart clench, she was so strangely beautiful.

  [“I am Rania”]—liquid as silk, she turned and gestured toward the others—[“this is Nalin, and that is Imro beyond.”] Rania faced Alamar once again. [“And you are…?”]

  [“Alamar. I am a Mage.”]

  Rania wafted backwards and looked at him kneeling on the water and laughed. [“That, Mage Alamar, we deduced, given where you now stand. What we didn’t know was whether you were the Friend who called. Your bracelet, though, answers that question.”]

  Imro surged forward. [“‘That ship”]—he raised a hand and pointed a finger toward the Eroean, a talon unsheathing, indicating his displeasure—[“you came aboard it?”]

  [“Yes,”] responded Alamar, grunting back to his feet.

  [“You are accounted a Friend, yet you bring others with you? Those who are not Friends? Destroyers?”] Now a full set of talons sprang forth from the tips of Imro’s fingers, and
the web down the length of his arm spread stiffly wide, with evenly spaced, wickedly sharp spines jutting out the full of its length.

  Alamar glared at Imro, but before he could reply, Nalin spoke: [“We know that ship, Imro. Long has it plied the Mother Waters, never to the harm of the”]—Nalin thumped himself on the chest—[“¡Nat!io…nor to the”]—he swept his arm toward the encircling ring of dolphin—[“A!miî. Imro, I think this vessel no threat, even though it bears those we ordinarily name destroyers.”]

  Rania added, [“Imro, you know that there has ever been a Friend aboard that ship. I can feel the token he bears even now.”]

  Alamar smiled at the female. [“His name is Aravan. He has always been master of the Eroean.”]

  Nalin drifted back and grinned. [“Ah, so that is his name: Aravan. —And her name, too. We ¡Nat!io call her Silver Bottom. Long has she plied the Mother Waters. She is swift, through not as swift as we.”] His voice took on a tinge of pride. [“When she comes through our demesne at night, at times we race before her bow…along with the A!miî.”]

  As Imro’s claws slowly retracted and his arm fins relaxed, he faced Alamar again. [“Why are you here and why have you called us? Especially, why have you called us to this foul place?”]

  [“Ha!”] barked Alamar. [“So you name it a foul place, too.”]

  Rania took up a tendril of green weed, holding it out of the water. [“Long ago it was a place of great bounty, and we hunted and frolicked within. But now we like it not, and we were far from here when you summoned, else we would have come sooner.”]

  [“You have not answered my questions,”] said Imro impatiently.

  Alamar glanced over from Rania to Imro, and his eyes narrowed as he readied a retort, but Rania interrupted, [“Why have you called us, Friend?”]

  Alamar looked back down at her. [“We pursue an evildoer, one who caused great harm long past and is like to cause even more. We think he sometimes comes to the Great Swirl, here to the clutches of the weed. His ship…although we are not certain, we deem to be a galley.”]

  [“G-¡g!alley?”] Nalin had trouble pronouncing the Common word and he added tick-lock clicks to it. He cocked his head. [“What is a ¡g!alley?“]

  [“A ship of many oars, long and sweeping, propelled by rowers. Sails, too.”]

  Rania sucked air through her sharp teeth and backed water and said, [“It is black, with evil aboard. Vile destroyers. We give it wide berth.”]

  Alamar demanded, [“You have seen it?”]

  All three nodded, ringlets spreading outward, Imro adding, [“And this one you hunt, you say he is aboard?”]

  [“Yes,”] gritted Alamar. [“Do you know where it is, the black galley?”]

  The three looked at one another and shook their heads.

  “Damnation!” spat Alamar in Common. Puffing his cheeks, he blew out his breath, then said, [“We think there might be an island somewhere in the weed. Do you know of any?”]

  Rania’s cat-eyes widened. [“Yes. But it is an evil place now. We do not go there.”]

  [“Will you lead us there?”]

  Startled, Imro sounded a harsh clattering clack, and the ring of dolphin disappeared, diving under. [“You do not hear well, Mage,”] snapped Imro. [“Rania said that we never go there.”]

  [“Listen to me, you stupid minnow,”] shouted Alamar, [“I’ve had about enough of your suspicions, your gall. We came to rid the world of an evil, and you keep—“]

  A piercing shrill note came from the throat of Rania. She spun toward Imro. [“Imro, he is a Friend!”] she declared. Then she rounded on Alamar. [“And you, Alamar, you must remember that we are Friends, too!”] A subdued quiet fell upon the sea.

  Imro submerged and emitted a clicking clatter of chirps. Of a sudden the dolphin reappeared, once again forming a ring.

  Nalin’s exotic features were sunk in thought as he drifted. At last he said, [“If those on the Silver Bottom rid the island of the evil, and rid the Mother Waters of the black ¡g!alley as well, then perhaps the weed will become ours again.”]

  [“Exactly!”] proclaimed Alamar. [“If that Child”]—he pointed a finger at Imro—[“had only listened long enough before getting uppity—”]

  Rania’s warning voice cut sharply through Alamar’s tirade: [“Friend, remember my words.”]

  Alamar spluttered to silence.

  Nalin looked at the others. [“I say we go.”]

  Imro asked sourly, [“Go where?”]

  [“Show them the way.”]

  Rania again sharply sucked air in through her pointed teeth. [“Go to the island? Shouldn’t we put this to the Grex?“]

  Nalin shook his head. [“Those elders? It would take them a spawning season to make up their minds.”]

  Rania nodded grudgingly, sunlight sparkling off the ripples of her movement. [“What about the weed? On the surface it becomes impassable, or nearly so.”]

  Imro scowled. [“It’s a stupid plan. They will never be able to get Silver Bottom through.”]

  [“Ha!”] barked Alamar. [“We don’t plan on taking the Eroean any farther. We have flat-hulled boats for that task. All we need to know is where to go.”]

  Imro yet scowled. [“We can pass the weed by swimming far under, down where it does not reach. But then how will the A!miî go? They need to breathe air, and they cannot swim up through the thick weed from below. They are faithful protectors, and I would not wish to leave them behind while we go alone into the dangerous weed. And these destroyers, they breathe air as well. They, too, cannot go under…which means if we are to guide them, then we must do it by swimming on the surface, through the weed, which will only grow thicker the farther inward we go. And so, Nalin, just how do you propose that we and the A!miî pass the weed?”]

  [“Simple,”] replied Nalin, [“we will call a ¡th!rix. We will let it clear the way.”]

  Rania shook her head. [“We cannot ask a gentle ¡th!rix to go to the island. That would be wicked.”]

  Now it was Alamar who scowled. [“What is this—this ¡th!rix?“]

  [“Besides,”] added Rania, [“I will not go all the way to the island. It is an evil place.”]

  Nalin drifted over to Rania. [“We will only ask the ¡th!rix to take us to where the island can be seen, guiding Friend Alamar and his companions through the weed. Then we will turn back, riding the ¡th!rix out.”]

  Alamar threw up his hands. [“Would one of you young jackfools tell me what a ¡th!rix is?”]

  Nalin looked at Rania and Imro. [“Well, shall we do it?”]

  Rania glanced back and forth between the two. [“And none of us goes to the island—neither you, Nalin, nor Imro nor I…nor the ¡th!rix, right?”] At Nalin’s nod she inclined her head, Yes.

  Imro stared long at the Eroean, then at Alamar, and finally he nodded, too.

  Nalin spun to Alamar. [“We will take you to within sight of the isle.”]

  Alamar stood glaring at the sky, his arms folded tightly, his chin jutting out stubbornly, his foot tapping the water, ringlets rippling outward. [“I am not going anywhere until someone tells me just what this blasted ¡th!rix is!”]

  Rania laughed up at him, her voice liquid silver. [“You will see, Friend Alamar. Oh yes indeed, you will see.”]

  At the sound of her voice, Alamar looked down at her incredible elfin face and could do nought but smile.

  “Oh, oh, look, there they go,” cried Jinnarin. “Oh my!”

  In the distance the Children of the Sea rolled a surface dive, the silver-haired Merfolk speeding down and away, and some of the crew at the rail cried out that the Children had the tails of fish, claiming that they had glimpsed them, though it was not so. As the Merfolk dived, the ring of dolphin broke, and leaping and plunging alongside one another they swiftly sped away.

  Alamar turned toward the Eroean, gesturing wearily, and the crew in the dinghy below pushed off and began rowing out toward him. When they reached him, aided by two sailors Alamar clambered over the side and in. The crew then turne
d about and rowed back to the Eroean. Davit ropes were lowered and affixed, and the dinghy was winched upward. As the boat was swung aboard, Aylis looked at the drawn face of her father—he was weary yet strangely flushed. Aravan helped him to climb out, and Jinnarin, bouncing and jiggling on the balls of her feet in excitement, asked, “Well, Alamar, what happened out there?”

  Alamar looked down at her, a beatific smile on his face. “What happened? Out there? I’ll tell you what happened, Pysk: I fell in love again, that’s what.”

  “Oh, lordy, he’s been charmed by a Mermaid,” declared Artus, standing nearby.

  “Pish tush!” poo pooed Jamie. “There ain’t no such thing as Mermaids.”

  Artus turned and pointed out to the sea where Alamar had stood. “Then tell me, Mister Smarty, what do you call those we just saw dive under if not Mermaids?”

  “Is it true?” asked Jinnarin. “Were you charmed by a Mermaid, Alamar?”

  “Of course not, Pysk,” snapped Alamar, but Aylis looked at her father and wondered if his denial hadn’t come a bit too swiftly.

  Bokar cut through the chitchat. “Is there an island, Mage Alamar? If so, where?”

  “Island? Yes.” Alamar nodded. “Where? They did not say. Inwards, is all.”

  “If you did not discover where lies the island,” growled Bokar, “then how are we to find it?”

  Alamar drew himself up, peering down his nose at the armsmaster. “They will guide us, that’s how. Dawn tomorrow they return to do so, bringing with them a ¡th!rix to clear the way.”

  “A th-th,” stuttered Jinnarin, unable to cope with the clicks. “Hmm, whatever you said, Alamar—what is it?”

  Alamar threw up his hands in delayed frustration and snapped. “They wouldn’t tell me!”

  “Bah!” burst out Bokar, his own frustration mounting. “Tell me, Mage, just what did you find out?”

  Alamar glared at the armsmaster. “What I found out, Dwarf, is that Durlok plies a black galley in these waters.”

  “Aha!” crowed Jinnarin. “The black ship! So then we were right!”

 

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