by Jean Lorrah
Wulfston quickly dressed for travel, but he wasn’t fast enough to avoid Aradia. She came into his room as he was turning his small private coffer out onto the bed. There were enough gold and silver coins to buy anything he might need, should Chulaika’s warning prove true.
Aradia wore a serviceable light woolen gown in her favorite violet, which matched her eyes. Her hair was braided and bound simply about her head, and she carried a hooded cloak. “Hurry, Wulfston,” she said, sounding just the way she had when they were children. “We don’t want to miss the tide!”
“Aradia-”
“I’m going with you.”
“No, you’re not, ‘ he told her firmly.
“Wulfston, it’s my husband they’ve taken!”
“And that’s his child you’re carrying/’ he countered. “You were fortunate that the drug did not harm the baby- for Sukuru still let you drink it after he knew you were pregnant. You don’t know what these people are capable of if they have no care for the health of an unborn babe. Will you be as careless as they are? Will you take your child into the midst of Adept conflict?”
“I can take care of my baby and myself,” Aradia insisted. Not wanting to argue, Wulfston turned away from her angry glare and began putting the coins into a leather pouch.
Suddenly his muscles went stiff, as Aradia sought to prove her strength by controlling him. He should have expected it, it was something she had often done to win an argument when they were children. Her powers had always been superior, as she was five years older than he.
But this time it took only a moment’s concentration for Wulfston to shake off Aradia’s Adept hold.
He turned swiftly, showing her plainly that her strength was waning with her pregnancy. “You see?
Aradia, you just don’t have your full powers right now.”
But as he saw tears spring to her eyes he moved quickly to comfort her. “Please… we both know it’s best that you stay here. J know it won’t help for me to tell you not to worry, but I promise you this: I will bring Lenardo back to you, safe and sound. I swear it!”
Captain Laren, owner of the Night Queen, had more than a few objections to his ships being pressed into service as a pursuit vessel. But he needed continued use of Dragon’s Mouth for his merchant business, so a deal was quickly struck.
Wulfston boarded ship with Zanos, Astra, and a number of his own people. Even old Huber, a grizzled warrior who was a water talent, volunteered for the mission. Wulfston put Chulaika and her son in the boat in which he was rowed out to the Night Queen-just in time to sail with the tide.
“You see?” he told her. “My people always work together. We’ll easily catch up to Sukuru, and trade you for Lenardo.”
“You will see,” was all the woman would say from under her veil.
Since Wulfston was the only one on board with weather-changing talents, the other Adepts supported him as he created a strong wind that quickly carried the ship out to sea.
But as the shoreline vanished, Zanos said, “We can’t keep this up much longer, Lord Wulfston. We’ll be exhausted by the time we catch up with Sukuru’s ship.”
“You’re right,” Wulfston conceded, letting the wind die down. “We must conserve our strength. This is going to take longer than I thought, and Sukuru isn’t going to give up Lenardo without some…
‘persuasion.’ ‘
“Perhaps we can use natural weather conditions,” Astra suggested. “I can Read a minor squall building south of here. If we could guide its winds this way, it would take much less work to catch Sukuru.”
Wulfston nodded. “A good suggestion, Astra. Let’s try it.”
By the time the brisk stormwinds filled the Night Queens
Sails, the sun was on the western horizon. Some minutes later, a tiny black dot could be seen in the center of the crimson sphere.
“She’s still several hours ahead of us, Lord Wulfston!” the captain called out over the cheering. “We won’t catch ‘er till after midnight!”
“But we will catch them,” Wulfston replied, glancing at Chulaika. She avoided his eyes as she lifted her son into her arms.
CRACK! A bolt of lightning struck the mainmast, sending down a shower of splinters.
“It’s Sukuru!” Zanos bellowed. “He’s turning the storm against us!”
A second bolt struck the bow before Wulfston could move to deflect it. Flames sprang up in the foredeck, but the Lord Adept extinguished them with a moment’s concentration.
“Combine your powers to shield the ship!” he commanded the Adepts. If he could put everyone on Sukuru’s ship to sleep-
Another loud CRACK! came from the mainmast, this time from within. The captain barked out orders. s Astra cried out, “The mast! It’s going to-”
It split diagonally, the upper half becoming a spear hurtling down at Wulfston’s people. Trying to work with gravity, he put his powers to angling the missile away from the people aboard.
Zanos and two of the other Adepts added their strength to his, but it was not enough to send the debris over the side. The jagged point ripped through the starboard side of the deck and came out the hull, just below the waterline.
Captain Laren shouted, “Hard to port! We’ll have to make it to one of the Turtle Islands and beach er, or we’ll sink for sure!”
Wulfston started to object, but knew the captain was right. The Adepts could do little more than keep the ship afloat for a league or so, until they reached shallow waters. And then at least a day would be spent making repairs.
Very clever, Sukuru, But you won’t escape me!
While Huber and the others helped the crewmen make temporary repairs, Wulfston strode angrily to Chulaika, who was still holding her son, still avoiding his eyes… but somehow seemed less fearful of the Lord Adept than she had been before.
“Very well, woman. Tell me were Sukuru is taking Lenardo.”
“Show me your charts,” she replied, “and I will plot your course.” At least she had the dignity not to say
“I told you so.”
Later, Wulfston stood watching the sun set. Astra and Zanos joined him. “Don’t worry,” said Zanos,
“we’ll catch up and rescue Lenardo.”
Wulfston nodded. “Yes, but we may have to go all the way to Africa to do it. I’ve been trying all day not to think about the prophecy Torio made before he left with you for Madura. He told me, ‘Your fate is linked with Lenardo’s, but it is your own destiny you will seek far away, only to find where you began.’
So here I am, sailing far away because of Lenardo. I wonder-what does the rest of the prophecy mean? Does ‘where I first began’ mean Nubia, the land of my ancestors? I don’t know anything about it!
I may look like Sukuru and the other black people, but they are not my people. If my destiny truly lies among them, will I ever see home again?”
Chapter Two
The repairs on the Night Queen took nearly two days. By the time the ship put to sea again, Sukuru’s vessel was beyond Astra’s Reading range, even out of body. Wulfston was forced to depend entirely on the course Chulaika plotted.
He was not sure he could trust her, even in that regard. Apparently she was following Sukuru’s plan to force the Lord Adept to travel to Africa, but what if all this were part of an even larger scheme-a plot against the Savage Empire?
Wulfston remembered leaving Aradia and Jareth on the dock in his homeland. “What if this is a ruse to divide our strength?” he had wondered aloud. “Enemies have tried to split our alliance before. Sukuru might have friends- strong Adepts and Readers-who hope that all of us will sail off to rescue Lenardo, leaving our lands unprotected.
“You may be right, my lord,” Jareth had agreed. “We must expect the unexpected.”
“Indeed,” Wulfston nodded. “If I’d done that last night, we wouldn’t have lost Lenardo, would we?”
“Don’t blame yourself, my brother,” Aradia said softly. “We were all fooled. Not even Lenardo Read Sukuru’
s intent.”
Wulfston did not forgive himself so easily. Somewhere deep inside him, a voice whispered, “You should have known. You saw the signs and ignored them.”
What signs? he asked himself. What should I have known, but didn’t?
The vast ocean yielded no answers, merely beckoned to his mind, drawing him beyond the railing, seducing him into forgetting all his concerns and losing himself in-
“Lord Wulfston?”
He spun around, bracing his powers-to find Astra beside him, startled by his reaction.
“I’m sorry,” he said, smiling to cover his embarrassment. “I didn’t hear you. I guess I was experiencing that thing sailors are always talking about: ‘the spell of the sea.’ “
“Is this your first time sailing to a foreign land?” the Reader asked.
“My first time out to sea,” he confessed. “My first experience of being totally surrounded by deep water.
It’s beautiful, but I’m beginning to understand how it must have seemed to your fellow Aventine Readers when the invasion fleet left their empire-how vulnerable they must have felt when I sent the storm to drive away their ships from my lands.” N
“You’re thinking about the Readers who drowned?”
“Yes, and how easily the same thing could happen to us,” he said grimly. “Sukuru has two days’ head start. If we can’t close the gap, we may find someone waiting on the African coast to drive us away!”
“Z’Nelia?”
“Or one of her allies. From what Captain Laren tells me, the city of Johara is near Africa’s east coast.
This course that Chulaika has plotted is taking us to the west, a thousand miles from Johara. Even if this witch-queen is as powerful as Sukuru said, her powers cant possibly reach that far. But if she has Adept friends on the west coast…”
“Wouldn’t it be more likely that Sukuru and his allies would be there? If he’s trying to force you to help him depose a powerful sorceress, surely he’s not going to lead you into a trap!”
“How can we be sure of anything? Your husband agrees these people can’t be trusted.” She followed his glance down the length of the deck to where Chulaika sat at the stern, sharing a meal with her son. “For instance, what are your impressions of her?”
“Hard to say. She seems to have as much Adept talent as I do, which is not much. She doesn’t seem to want to be here, away from her homeland, any more than we want to be away from ours. But she’s determined not to show it. And you must have noticed how protective she is of her son, Chaiku. Aren’t you curious as to why a four-year-old never speaks, only cries and makes grunting sounds?”
“With all that’s been going on, I hadn’t noticed,” Wulfston admitted. “Have you Read his physical condition?”
“This morning, before we left the island. It didn’t tell me much. His throat and voice box seem to be normal, which should mean that the disorder is in his brain. When I asked Chulaika if he had ever had the power of speech, she became defensive, bracing her powers. So I left her alone.”
” Our children threatened,’ ” Wulfston said, quoting what Chulaika had told them in his throne room.
“Perhaps he is a victim of more than just a threat.”
Just then Captain Laren strode over to them, looking very serious. “Lord Wulfston, I’m sorry. From my calculations, even with all you Adepts helping, this ship cannot possibly catch up with that African merchantman. They’ll reach the African coast at least a day before we will.”
Wulfston stared at the man, not knowing where to vent his frustration. He expelled it in a controlled breath, then said, “Just get us there as quickly as you can.”
“And then?” Laren asked.
“I don’t know,” the Lord Adept said quietly, then walked to the stern of the ship. Chulaika looked up as he approached her. “You win, it seems. In a few days I will be in your land.”
“But not helping us fight against Z’Nelia,” she said softly, “so it is no victory at all. I told my master that his plan would not work.”
“You’re Sukuru’s slave?” he asked. He had assumed that the two were allies.
” ‘Servant’ would be the best word in this language. He saved me and my son from being sold into slavery, but… sometimes obeying his wishes seems no better than serving a slavemaster. If only you knew how much your help is needed in Africa-”
“We’ve already been through that,” he said firmly. “I haven’t changed my mind. When we reach Africa, I will do whatever I have to do to rescue Lenardo, but I will not become a part of your rebellion!”
“Then what do you require of me, Lord Wulfston?”
Rather than make further demands, Wulfston decided to try another tack. “I’ll make a bargain with you, Chulaika,” he said softly. “I must know more about what I will face in your homeland. If you will teach vme your native language, and as much as possible about your lands and customs, I will do what I can to cure your son’s muteness. With the help of Magister Astra’s Reading powers-”
Chulaika’s reaction was a strange, bitter laugh as she drew the child close. “You cannot help him, Lord Wulfston. No Healer can. The silence of his tongue is the mark of Shangonu, our god. It is His will that Chaiku not speak-to oppose the will of the god would bring disaster upon us.”
Wulfston was amazed at her response. “You believe that it’s wrong for him to be healed?”
“Shangonu forbids it. You cannot understand,” she insisted firmly. “You are not of my people, know nothing of our ways.” Although her voice remained sort, its intensity increased. “I will teach you what I can, most excellent lord, but there are some things about my homeland that even you, a Son of Africa, will never be able to learn.”
Zanos and Astra were included in the language lessons. With the powers of concentration studied by both Readers and Adepts, their progress was swift, and soon all three were capable of intelligible, if not colloquial, conversation in the language of Chulaika’s people, the Zionae. — In the process they learned that Africans perceived Reader and Adept powers much differently than the Aventines or savages did.
Readers in Africa were called Seers, while Adepts were generally called Movers. Minor Adepts were known by their principal talent: healers, firemakers, rainbringers, and so forth.
Readers were often inducted into religious orders, to use their powers for social good. The fate of a person with both Reading and Adept powers depended on where he lived; in some areas such a person might become part of a coven of wizards while in other tribes a Reader/Adept would be a natural ruler.
During one lesson, Astra told Chulaika, “Only in the past few years have our Readers and Adepts begun to learn each other’s powers. Are those with both powers very common in Africa?”
“No, they are not,” Chulaika replied. “In truth, only in recent generations have people with any kind of power become commonplace. As recently as in my great-grandmother’s day, even my meager powers would have been cause for my people to shun me as a witch. But today a very powerful witch-queen sits upon the throne in Johara. Such powers are the only thing that people now respect.”
“Perhaps,” Wulfston said, “and perhaps not. Among my people there is the legend of another Wulfston-Wulfston the Red. He had no powers, yet he is remembered as a great ruler. His strength came from his unselfish love for his people, which earned him their respect and loyalty. Surely your history also contains stories of great kings and queens who ruled the Zionae without powers.”
“Indeed,” Chulaika nodded, “but those were in the days when Movers were few. In recent generations leaders without powers have had to fight constantly to keep their thrones. Of late, few have succeeded.”
The Lord Adept shrugged. “A ruler’s lands are his only for as long as he can hold them. There will always be someone wanting to make those lands his own, and having powers will never change that. You have seen our solution in the Savage Empire, Chulaika. Rulers who respect and trust one another can unite to maintain peace.
Without that unity, powers or no powers, no ruler’s lands are safe.”
“Perhaps,” she whispered. Wulfston could not tell whether she doubted his words, or found a seed of hope in them.
The cry of “Land ho!” rang out from the bow, and the passengers rushed to the rails for the first view of something other than water and sky since they had sailed out of the midland sea and into open ocean. A wide patch of green was slowly rising from the sea,
“Freedom Island,” Chulaika identified. “We must stop there for water and supplies. After that, it is four more days until we reach the African coast.”
Wulfston glanced at Captain Laren, who confirmed her words with a nod.
“Why is it called Freedom Island?” Zanos asked Chulaika.
“Because it is the last hope of slaves who sometimes manage to jump overboard after a slave ship has left Africa’s west coast, bound for distant markets.”
Like the Aventine Empire, Wulfston reflected, until the last earthquake destroyed their system of rule, and we took over.
“Many of the enslaved come from conquered tribes,” Chulaika went on. “Thus they have no home to return to. So they stay on Freedom Island, joining one of the communities there. Pirate bands also use the island as a base, but it is unwritten law that no slave business is conducted here.”
“And all those different factions live side by side in peace?” Astra asked.
“An uneasy peace,” the veiled woman said. “Most uneasy.”
No other ships were in the harbor when the Night Queen dropped anchor. Captain Laren and several of her crew went ashore first for supplies, and the boat returned for Wulfston, Zanos, Astra, Chulaika, and Chaiku.
Chulaika tried to persuade Wulfston to remain aboard, insisting, “There is nothing of interest to you on that island.”
That only made him more certain there was, so he told her, “You said you would be my teacher as well as my guide. Here is my first chance to see African culture-and I need you to explain it to me.” Besides, he thought, I must attempt to send a message to Aradia.