The Destruction of the Books (5 page)

“I don’t see a goblin ship out there,” Juhg said.

“Nor do I,” Raisho growled.

“It’s not out there now,” Herby said. “It’s comin’ in.”

A chill, colder even than the frozen teeth the whirling wind brought, rushed and twisted through Juhg’s guts. He hadn’t seen a goblin in thirty years.

Raisho shrugged. “Even so, boy, ye needn’t fear fer yerself so. Here in Kelloch’s Harbor, why, they’ll not be allowed to go clappin’ honest sailors in irons.” He glanced at Juhg. “Nor dwellers either, bookworm. So cease ye to be a-frettin’ as ye are.”

“I’m not fretting,” Juhg said, knowing he covered his anxiety badly.
But I will be staying aboard
Windchaser
till the goblin ship is gone or we set sail.

There was no need in taking chances. In fact, drawn to his journal as he was, Juhg would appreciate the chance to work in peace. Then again, days and probably weeks would pass before
Windchaser
again put in to port. He missed being on land. Even during the few travels he’d shared with Grandmagister Lamplighter, he’d never truly enjoyed sailing. Then his mind, freed from his fear now that he had a plan, focused on the other aspects of Herby’s news. “The goblin ship isn’t here now?”

“No.” Herby shook his head.

The monk shook his head as well, then reached up and laid a hand against his young master’s jaw. Gust cooed sympathetically.

“How do you know it’s coming?” Juhg asked.

“Heard it, is all.” Herby spat over the side of the landing, eliciting a stern curse from below.

A group of longshoremen swayed along the broken path that led down to the harbor. One of them raised a lantern. All of them wore cloaks, but the wind pressed the material against their bodies and revealed that none of them was a warrior. Their vicious threats against Herby stopped the instant the lantern settled on Raisho. Grumbling, the men lowered their lantern and moved along.

“Where did you hear about the goblin ship?” Juhg asked.

“Around.” Herby shuffled his mud-encrusted feet.

Juhg didn’t understand how the boy’s feet withstood the biting wind or the seeping cold of the wooden landing. “Herby, if I need to, I’ll go to Captain Attikus and ask him to get to the bottom of this.”

“Ye’d rat me out after I brung this to yer attention as I did?” Herby frowned petulantly and crossed his thin arms over his skinny chest.

“Yes,” Juhg replied.

Herby cursed offensively.

“No more of that,” Raisho growled. “An’ ye’ll give us an answer right quick-like.”

Blowing his breath out angrily, Herby said, “I was out back of a shop.”

Juhg maintained his patience with effort. “What shop?”

“The cooper’s.”

“Which cooper?” Raisho asked.

“Ain’t but one cooper.” Herby grinned in delight at knowing more than either Juhg or Raisho.

“You were interested in watching barrels being made?” Juhg’s tone plainly indicated the doubt he felt. Beside him, Raisho moved restively.

Frowning, Juhg said, “I heard the cooper doesn’t just make barrels.”

“Who gave you this tidbit of information?”

“A boy.”

Juhg sighed. “What boy?”

“A boy I met on the docks.”

“What business did you have with this boy?”

Herby raised his blade-thin shoulders and dropped them. “Just talk.”

“About what?” Juhg asked.

“Thievin’,” Raisho rumbled. “The kind of thing what’s always on his crooked little mind.”

“Thievin’s not always bad,” Herby argued.

Glancing around quickly, Juhg made sure no one stood nearby. However, the cold wind carried words a long distance. He heard fragments of conversations while standing on the landing. A lot of those came from skiff crews and even sailors aboard the ship. The harbor water carried voices and noises farther than the land did.

“Maybe,” Juhg suggested, “we shouldn’t talk so much about … about that … occupation.”

“Thievin’s not always bad,” Herby insisted. Some of his petulance turned to challenge. “Why, them stories Juhg sometimes tells is all about thieves what steals fer their kings or fer the love of a lady. Where would Portablaine have been in
The Terror of Qulog’s Tower
had he not been a thief?”

Surprised, Juhg knew that Herby’s argument held weight. The ship’s boy didn’t usually harbor deep or serious thoughts.

“There was a lot of warriors what lost their heads an’ such while tryin’ to rescue the fair Princess Ellaquar from Qulog’s flesh-eatin’ trolls,” Herby went on. “But Portablaine done for ’em. Bein’ a thief, why, that is a callin’ fer some.”

Raisho took a step forward, towering over the boy with his girth. Even as humans went, Juhg knew, not many years separated the two. But those years were enough to ensure enmity.

“Well, then,” Raisho stated, “I won’t be surprised if’n yer puffed-up pride puts you in a troll’s pot someday. Get yerself baked into a troll pie, ye will, the way ye’re a-goin’. Maybe ye’ll break the cap’n’s heart when ye do, but I’ll shed no tears over ye.”

Herby leaned back over the landing railing.

Gust shoved his head out and shrilled loudly.

“I’ll shed no tears,” Raisho corrected, turning his baleful glare full upon the monk, “unless them trolls find themselves too particular to bake up that noisy fleabag with ye.”

Gust withdrew meekly into the protection of Herby’s cloak.

“The cooper,” Juhg reminded. Thoughts of the goblin ship possibly pulling into the harbor at any moment bounced through his head.

Sliding away from Raisho, Herby turned his attention to Juhg. “The cooper’s a fence. He trades in stolen goods. Takes ’em in, breaks ’em down, changes ’em, or just swaps ’em out fer other stolen goods or coins. Whatever as may come into his hands.”

“What business did you have with such a person?” Juhg asked, fearing the answer.

Herby kept silent for a moment. Out in the harbor, men laughed and cursed and bemoaned the work they had before them the next day. Drunken sea shanties sailed between the tall mountain walls that enclosed Kelloch’s Harbor.

“Been thievin’ again,” Raisho accused.

“The captain told you not to do that,” Juhg remonstrated. The image of the young boy hanging from a gibbet in the harbor filled the dweller’s mind. Books in the Vault of All Known Knowledge possessed pictures of such grim deaths. Tongues lolled from mouths set above broken necks and below bulging eyes. The sudden visual onslaught almost made Juhg sick.

As despicable as Herby could be in his personal grooming and his choice of trades, he was still one of the best audiences Juhg had found aboard
Windchaser.
The other sailors liked the tales that he couldn’t help telling during the quiet hours of a voyage, but Herby hung on every word of every adventure Juhg could remember reading in Hralbomm’s Wing.

Maybe some of the guilt is your own,
Juhg told himself.
You filled the boy’s head full of the foolishness from Hralbomm’s Wing. Maybe you didn’t put that calling in him, but those stories have given him an excuse to pursue his course.
If they lived to get out of Kelloch’s Harbor, the dweller promised himself that he would tell no more such stories to the boy.

“I didn’t steal nothin’ from our crew,” Herby said.

“Then who?” Raisho demanded.

In a quieter voice, Herby said, “I slipped through some of the taverns.” He shrugged. “Had a bit of luck.”

Raisho swore as he turned to Juhg. “This little gutter rat is gonna be the death of us. Ye know that, don’t ye?”

“It’s a skill,” Herby protested. “A game. I’m just trainin’ meself to be more’n what I am. Just like ye do with that blasted sword.”

“An’ what are ye a-doin’ with yer ill-gotten gain from yer little game?” Raisho demanded.

Herby didn’t answer. Juhg knew speculation aboard
Windchaser
held that the boy kept a treasure cache hidden on the ship. Several of the sailors had searched for it, but nothing ever came to light.

“The goblin ship,” Juhg prompted.

Snuffling, shooting Raisho a look of dark condemnation, Herby looked back at Juhg. “The cooper said to another man in there that the goblin ship is comin’ in tonight. At least sometime afore cock’s crow.”

“What man?”

Herby shrugged. “A cap’n. Or a quartermaster. Somebody what handles manifests an’ cargoes an’ such. Somebody what had business with the cooper.”

“Was that man waiting for the goblin ship’s arrival?”

“I don’t think so. The cooper, his name’s Muole, he was just talkin’ about the goblin ship like it were somethin’ new.”

“Ain’t new fer goblins to be a-tradin’ this far north,” Raisho commented. “Like as not, they trade with pirates what put into port here.”

Men like we’re supposed to be,
Juhg thought.
Windchaser
enjoyed, if such a thing could be possible, the reputation of being a pirate ship. Not a formidable pirate ship, of course, because such a reputation often worked against a ship and her crew, made them more watched while they tried to spy on the mainland and carry news to Greydawn Moors while they traded for things the island dwellers wanted. It was better that they be mediocre pirates and excellent spies.

“Weren’t because the ship’s a goblin ship,” Herby said. “The cooper talked of it because of its cargo.” He smiled, and Juhg knew the boy enjoyed the secret he held.

“What cargo?” Raisho demanded impatiently. He lifted a huge hand in a threatening manner.

Gust retreated farther under Herby’s cloak and made fearful clucking noises.

“Out with it, boy,” Raisho snarled. “Ye tires me with yer endless prattle an’ half-truths.”

“A book,” Herby stated quietly. “The goblin ship’s supposed to have a book aboard her.”

Listening to the answer, Juhg felt his world capsize and he thought he was going to throw up.
A book in the hands of goblins?

*   *   *

“Impossible,” Captain Attikus said in a calm voice. “This has to be gossip and twaddle and suchlike that surfaces in a port of liars and thieves. Can’t be any truth in that story.”

“I know,” Juhg replied patiently, watching as good sense and pride struggled within Herby to keep still or argue with the captain over the information he’d brought forth. “And yet, Captain, what if Herby has the truth of it?”

Raisho snorted. “Herby an’ the truth ain’t ever been bunkmates.”

“Ye big lummox!” Herby squalled, doubling up his fists and making as if to launch himself into a sudden attack on Raisho. Of course, in the captain’s presence as he was, Herby knew he would be immediately protected from Raisho’s wrath.

With a shrill cry of alarm, Gust hurled himself from Herby’s shoulder. The monk landed on the captain’s private desk in his personal quarters, where they had all gathered. Woodworking tools scattered and the oil lantern seated there almost overturned. Only Juhg’s quick reflexes prevented the mishap as he caught the lamp and held it till the monk vacated the desk.

“Herby!” Captain Attikus warned sternly.

The boy stepped back but didn’t give up his show of anger. He waved to Gust, who dove from the desktop and hid beneath the desk.

The captain shifted his gaze to the young sailor. “Raisho, that’ll be just about enough out of you, too.”

“Aye, Cap’n.” Raisho scratched the back of his neck self-consciously. “I apologize, Cap’n, but the little guttersnipe just brings out the worst—”

“Belay that as well, sailor.” Captain Attikus drew himself up to his full, impressive height. He stood taller than Raisho, but was built like a wolf, lean and hard. Gray touched his temples, constrasting sharply with his curly black hair. His face was long and lean, mapped by scars and wear from worry and weather. Even standing still, the captain never appeared truly at rest, always churning beneath the surface even as the sea did. He wore a long coat over his nightclothes and padded about in thick woolen slippers. “I’ll have no man talking ill of another man in my crew.”

“Aye, Cap’n,” Raisho grumbled.

Captain Attikus pierced Juhg with a green-eyed stare. “Do you believe the lad’s tale about the book, Librarian Juhg?”

Despite the fact that everyone aboard
Windchaser
knew that Juhg had willingly stepped down from his station at the Vault of All Known Knowledge, Captain Attikus insisted on addressing him by his title. The habit made the dweller uncomfortable. During his stay at the Vault of All Known Knowledge, he’d seldom felt he earned either his stay or his promotion to First Level Librarian, despite the hard work he’d done. Knowledge that the island was not his native home remained always in his mind.

Juhg felt the certain weight of the captain’s gaze upon him. He framed his answer judiciously. “I believe Herby thinks he heard what he says he heard.”

Irritably, the captain waved the answer away. “That wasn’t what I was asking.”

Juhg took a deep breath and released it. “Captain, the goblinkin aren’t known for keeping books. While the goblinkin served Lord Kharrion, those creatures destroyed every book as quickly it was found.”

“Aye.” The captain nodded. “As I understand from tales of the Cataclysm as well.” He folded his arms behind his back and paced the short length of his personal quarters.

Windchaser
wasn’t an accommodating ship when it came to personal space. She served primarily as a merchant ship, but one that held a fighting deck and plenty of hands aboard her to battle pirates or sea monsters, or take ships that might threaten Greydawn Moors by sailing too close and risking discovery.

“I believe Herby heard what he says he heard, too,” Attikus stated.

Herby shot Raisho a snide look. Raisho chose to ignore the look. Captain Attikus pretended not to see either of them, though Juhg knew the captain seldom missed anything.

“But the question begs,” the captain said. “What would a goblin ship be doing with a book?”

“I don’t know,” Juhg answered. “As you said, sir, it has to be gossip. Maybe the cooper was lying to a prospective customer.”

“Possibly, Librarian Juhg. Possibly. You’ve been trained to think more on these weighty matters than I have.”

Juhg cringed anew. He didn’t want any of the responsibility for making a decision in whether to believe in the existence of the book; and he certainly didn’t want
all
of that responsibility.