Battledragon (11 page)

Relkin gripped the rail and breathed deep. Ahead, a half mile away, could be seen the mighty
Oat
, two thousand tons, under a pyramid of gleaming white sail. On the starboard beam rode the
Barley's
sister ship
Sugar
. Behind came the old, slow
Potato
, smaller than the
Oat
class and normally kept for the grain trade between the Isles and the Argonath. Beside her rode the
Malt
, another older ship. Neither of these vessels had enjoyed the recent blow, losing spars and sails, while the troops aboard had been forced to man the pumps when their aged timbers began to work and let in water.

They were too massive to be really threatened, however, and now they held their position, as did the rest of the fleet, both ahead and astern. Despite the rough weather, the components of the fleet had come together smoothly off Cape Balder, eight ships from the Argonath and eight ships from the Isles of Cunfshon. Those from the Argonath bore an expeditionary legion made up of units from Marneri, Kadein, Bea, Talion, and Pennar. Taken from units that had been available in the cities or reservists hastily called to active duty. The ships from Cunfshon carried the famous Legion of the White Rose. Now sixteen great ships, hurriedly, and secretly pulled away from their normal trading schedules, bore away into the south, heading for the Indramatic Ocean.

Swane and Manuel were also on the foredeck, taking a breather before the bells went for lunch.

"Wiliger's up on his feet," said Swane. "Manuel saw him in the galley." Dragon Leader Wiliger had been stricken since the first day at sea. Indeed, he had sickened directly following his fierce and public dressing down by Commander Voolward. This had been brought about by the debacle of Wiliger's luggage. This had originally consisted of twelve huge trunks, including one that carried nothing but sweetmeats and potted foods, another of expensive wine. Wiliger had forty shirts and sixty pairs of stockings packed in yet another. Voolward told him he was allowed a single trunk, and that only half the size of any of those he had brought aboard the
Barley
.

When Wiliger's trunks had been transshipped to a lighter in the Long Sound the next morning, Wiliger had disappeared to the sick bay and had hardly been seen since.

"I can't say as I've missed him," said Relkin.

"Nor me, either," grunted Swane. "Manuel said he was a bit green in the face."

Relkin shared in Swane's amusement. This pleased Swane enormously.

"Pity they never packed him off home with all those trunks of his," said Swane.

Manuel was intent on the other ships, craning his head around the rigging to get a view of the
Potato
.

"There's a frigate coming up," he said. "She's moving very fast."

The others crowded to the side, leaning out until they earned a sharp rebuke from a sailor in the waist.

"You silly buggers fall in and ye'll not survive, not in winter sea. Nor will any of us'n jump in to rescue ye."

"There's a frigate coming," shouted Relkin.

"Aye," said the sailor, calmly. "That be the
Lyre
all right, Captain Renard. My cousin Shephuel is third mate. She's a flyer, is that
Lyre
."

Clearly the sailors had all been aware of the frigate for a long time.

Now the smaller ship, under a tremendous press of canvas, came racing up to starboard and then pulled up just a cable's length away. A cutter was set down to the sea and bore across the gap under the powerful strokes of six men. The captain of the frigate, Captain Renard, came aboard the
Barley
and brought with him two small figures clad in hooded robes of a soft grey.

Relkin saw them climb onto the sacred quarterdeck, and he knew at once who it was. On the quarterdeck the small grey figures were greeted with considerable ceremony by the captain herself, who introduced her mates, and then they were conducted down the steps to the rear cabins and were lost from sight. Down those steps, Relkin knew, lay the staterooms and grand salons where the admiral of the fleet had his quarters. The admiral's long golden pennant flew from the mainmast. The admiral had come aboard from a frigate that had brought him from Andiquant, slightly ahead of the rest of the Cunfshon fleet.

"Who was that, do you think?" said Endi, who had joined them from below.

Swane looked to Relkin and held his tongue. Swane knew who they were but couldn't tell, even though he longed to. It was up to Relkin.

Manuel did not feel the same compulsions. "Witches," he muttered. Like most citizens of the realm, he found it difficult to accept the women of the magic arts. There they were, these people who could control anyone with a spell or two. They moved secretively through the society of the empire, and no one could control what they did. Manuel, as an educated person, tended to distrust such small but powerful groups. The other dragonboys, largely bereft of education, had less distrust, but even more awe, a sense verging on that of the religious.

Endi looked sharply at Relkin for confirmation.

Relkin nodded, noticing Endi's look of apprehensive awe.

"What do you think they want?" said Endi.

"I expect they're talking to Admiral Cranx. The witches like to control everything at the top level." Manuel voiced his suspicion bluntly.

Endi again looked anxiously to Relkin. Relkin shrugged.

"Don't ask me, your guess is as good as mine, but I expect it's something to do with our mission, whatever that may be."

"I'd love to know," said Endi.

"So would the rest of us," growled Swane. "Packed off to sea with virtually no warning. Up and down like galley slaves for days in weather that's not fit for fish and still no idea of what we're in for."

The door on the quarterdeck opened again and one of the figures in grey emerged. Captain Zudith Olinas conversed with the witch for a few minutes, gesturing to the rigging now and again, clearly showing off her ship, of which she was justly proud. Then the hooded figure came forward, stepped lightly down from the quarterdeck into the waist and made its way along the gangways and up onto the foredeck.

"Relkin, I hoped I'd find you here," said Lagdalen of the Tarcho.

"I'm glad you did." They embraced. Then Relkin introduced Endi, whom Lagdalen had never met before, and then she shook hands with Swane and Manuel.

Endi was awed into silence at the sight of this beautiful young Woman, clad in the grey of the sisterhood, obviously a personage of great importance and yet consorting with dragonboys!

"Are you with us for long?" said Relkin.

"I don't think so. We will go back to the
Lyre
and then go on, the Lady hopes to reach Bogon well before the rest of the fleet."

"Bogon?" said Swane. "Where in the name of the Mother is that?"

"For shame, Swane, to take the Mother's name in vain," said Lagdalen.

"Sorry, lady, I was just, surprised."

"You should say contrition." Lagdalen saw Relkin's eyes on her. Her sad half smile admitted the truth of his unspoken accusation. Who was she to be giving contrition? She had grown very high and mighty since they'd first met, when she was a failed novice in the temple service and he was a young provincial scruff trying to get into the legions illegally. Both those young people were gone, transformed into more serious minds. It seemed a very long time ago.

"And to answer your question, Swane, Bogon is on the east coast of Eigo. It is a tropical land, with great forests and enormous rivers."

"And why would we be going there?" said Manuel.

"This is the first we've heard about anything to do with this mission. It's just been 'very important' and 'top secret' since we first heard about it," said Swane.

Lagdalen was clearly wondering how much she could tell them. "All I can say is that we're not going to Bogon itself. We're to leave the ships there and move inland."

"But why?" said Manuel.

"I'm sorry, I cannot say." She smoothed down the front of her robe, exchanged a smile with Relkin. "How did the dragons do during the storm?"

"They quite enjoyed it, I think. They would come up here to get splashed by cold seawater. They were really hungry the whole time."

"They are the strangest, most wonderful creatures. To think of wanting to eat during all that heaving and shuddering. Everyone was sick, except the crew of course. Even the Lady was sick!"

Relkin smiled. "Were you sick, Lagdalen?"

"A little, not as much as the others, though."

"So we're going to Bogon, way across the ocean. All jungles and monsters and things like that," said Swane, wonderingly.

"We're going to Bogon," said Manuel, "and then we're going to go on, into the interior of Eigo, the dark continent."

"The very heart of the dark continent, does anyone know what lies there?"

"Myths, legends, and most recently direct, terrifying intelligence."

Admiral Cranx nodded, then sipped his cup of kalut. "I can remember only too well your address to the Imperial Council in which you outlined that intelligence."

The woman he spoke to was uncannily ordinary in appearance. Indeed, if anything, she looked undernourished. Her garb was plain, a grey woolen robe over a white cotton blouse and trousers. Her thin, pale grey hair was pulled back loosely behind her head. She wore no jewelry, no cosmetics, no accentuations whatsoever.

Cranx was aware, however, that this woman was hundreds of years old, that she was one of the greatest sorcerers of her time, and that she was anything but the plain person she appeared to be.

She fixed him with pale grey eyes that were peculiarly intense.

"This menace is well known to those who Serve the Light," she said softly. "It is the first step to the road of absolute material power. At the end of this road, men will take control of the very stuff of matter and make weapons with it. Weapons that can destroy an entire world in a matter of moments."

"So the wise inform us." Cranx smiled sadly. "Myself, I am a man of tide and sail, and I leave these things to others with greater wisdom, though I will admit that we have developed many weapons ourselves. We have these great ships that can outsail any enemy, and when we cannot avoid a battle, we have our weapons, terrible weapons indeed."

"Yes, Admiral, fire arrows and catapults are fearsome things for causing destruction, but believe me when I tell you that they are toys compared with the dark fruit of the road to power."

Cranx put down his cup. "Then we must see to it that we destroy the seeds of this terrible fruit."

"Indeed, sir, and if your fleet can deliver this force to the shores of Bogon intact within three months, then I think we may succeed in doing so."

"As to the duration of the passage, all that can be said is that much depends on our catching the tail of the winter winds in the Gulf of Ourdh. Once we round Cape Hazard, we should pick up those winds, and they will carry us halfway to Bogon with steady sailing, if they are still blowing."

He pointed to a chart of the Indramatic Ocean on the wall. "However, once we have ridden the winter winds to their end, we shall be in the Mother's Hands. The airs in the tropics at this season are notoriously vague and fickle. We might sit there for months."

"Let us pray not, there is not a moment to lose."

Cranx gestured to the pot of kalut on the table. "Would you care for another cup?"

"Yes, thank you. It is a most excellent, invigorating draft." For a moment they sat there, contemplating the chart and the immensity of the ocean that lay ahead of them. Six thousand miles sailing, from the cold waters of the Bright Sea to the tropical doldrums of the western Indramatic, it inspired awe, even in such an experienced mariner as Admiral Cranx. Then he turned away from it to pose a question that had been on his mind for days.

"I wonder, Lady, if you have any news of the situation at Axoxo? Since we left Andiquant harbor I have heard nothing."

Her eyebrows rose a fraction.

"I am afraid I have had no communications regarding the siege. I expect that it will continue. We will take Axoxo eventually."

"I ask because my grandson, Ericht, is serving there in the Talion Light Cavalry. I think of him often."

"I am sure he will have much to do."

"He was in a cavalry action two months ago. We received a letter with very dramatic descriptions of the fighting. It appeared that our forces had held their own against the enemy's tribal forces."

"There is a possibility that Axoxo might fall before next winter."

"It would be a famous victory."

"But if we fail in our present mission, it will not happen. The enemy will overthrow all opposition to his rule."

They finished the kalut, and Lessis made her good-byes, most especially to Captain Zudith Olinas. Then she noticed that Lagdalen was absent from the quarterdeck.

"Your assistant went forward," said Olinas. "She seems to be on great terms with the dragonboys."

"Dragonboys? What units are you carrying aboard?"

Captain Olinas pursed her lips. "We have three dragon squadrons, ninety tons of the great beasts, can you imagine?"

"Carry them safely, Captain, they are priceless."

"Their appetites are what's priceless." Olinas signaled to her second mate, a lean, hollow-looking man with an eye patch.

"Eents, what are the unit numbers for the dragons?"

"Thirty-fourth Bea, 66th Marneri, and 109th Marneri."

"Ah, the 109th," said Lessis rolling her eyes, "I should have known. I must join her."

Lessis moved quietly past the sailors in the waist, leaving behind a somewhat puzzled Captain Olinas, who wondered why a personage like the Grey Lady would wish to talk to a bunch of scruffy dragonboys.

On the foredeck the conversation came to a sudden stop at the appearance of Lessis. She stopped in front of Relkin.

"Just as I expected, Relkin of Quosh." Lessis embraced Relkin. "How good it is to see you, young man."

Relkin was unaccountably nervous. He recalled the last time they'd spoken; she was then a small bird with terribly bright eyes, and they'd floated on an underground river.