The Crystal Chalice (Book 1) (22 page)

 “Just stand back. Don’t
get in my way,” he ordered curtly.

  Obediently, she
retreated a pace or two, still staring wildly into the darkness.

 The blackness was
closer now, much larger than it had first appeared to be. Celedorn thought that
very faintly he could distinguish two lights, like fireflies, glowing in the
midst of the darkness. As it approached, the cloud seemed to swell upwards
until it towered higher than a tree. Eyes, like burning coals, fixed themselves
on Celedorn standing far beneath it on the shore, sword in hand. The cold knife
of fear sliced into him. He did not flinch but planted his feet firmly apart
and gripped his sword with both hands, waiting for the attack that was sure to
come.

 Elorin’s words came
back to him unbidden -
This cannot be fought with swords -
and he
knew
in his heart that she was right.

 Still the burning eyes
sent their skewering gaze blazing down upon him. Up and up grew the towering
pillar of blackness against the cloudy sky.

 He heard Elorin give a
sob of fright behind him. Then, in an instant, when he felt that the cloud must
fall upon him like a black avalanche, the moon burst from behind the clouds and
abruptly flung its radiant, silver light across the water. A roaring howl of
pain broke from the depths of the darkness. The great pillar of blackness
twisted and writhed in torment, dwindling in size as it did so. The burning
eyes disappeared as if black eyelids had closed upon them. With another
thunderous roar of agony, it fled back across the silver water to the darkness
of the forest. The terrible cry echoed round the marshes, rebounding from the
clouds and the surface of the river. Flocks of birds sheltering amongst the
reeds, exploded from cover screeching with alarm.

 For a full minute,
Celedorn was unable to move and stood like a carven image, sword still poised,
head still tilted back towards the sky. With an effort he broke the spell, and
sheathing his sword, turned to find Elorin trembling on her knees behind him.

 He went down on one
knee before her and gripped her shoulders, feeling the tremors that still
wracked her body.

 “Elorin,” he said a
little huskily, “I will never doubt your word again.”

 “W....what was it?” she
asked, her whole frame shaking.

 “I don’t know, but I do
know that my sword would have been useless against it. Kerrea was right. It is
a creature of the darkness and shade. It cannot tolerate the full light of
either sun or moon.”

 “Yervenar sent his
light to help us,” she stammered.

 “Then he must have sent
it to help
you
,” he said, glancing up at the silver orb sailing serenely
against the silky black sky, “for he has long ago forgotten me.”

  
Celedorn and Elorin spent the rest of that night in a
state of the most acute tension. Every time the coquettish moon danced behind a
cloud, depriving them of the safety of its light, they were gripped with fear
that the blackness would return. Never were two people more relieved to see the
first pale glimmers of dawn in the sky. By the time the sun came up, shedding
its rosy beams amongst the departing clouds, its light fell on two weary and
ragged travellers asleep beneath a willow tree.

  When Elorin finally
awoke, the morning was far advanced. The sun shone placidly on the still waters
of the estuary. She lay relaxed for a while, feeling its warmth touch her face
and listening to the gentle lapping of the water and the distant cry of the
gulls. The soft breeze rustled the sparse branches of the willow tree, brushing
its long, thin leaves together, but in addition to this pleasant sound, Elorin
detected a sound she had not expected to hear - the sound of voices.

 She sat up abruptly.
There, in the centre of the lagoon, floating like a cockleshell on the glassy
surface, was a small brightly-coloured fishing boat. She gripped Celedorn’s
shoulder and shook him. He groaned softly and rolled onto his back.

 “Celedorn, wake up! A
fishing boat has arrived!”

 He sat up with a jerk,
instantly fully awake. Two men from the boat were wading about on the far side
of the estuary, carrying nets already full of oysters. Two others were sitting
on boxes on the deck, deftly opening their bounty with sharp knives. Celedorn
made to rise but Elorin restrained him.

 “Wait!” she commanded.
“We had better get our stories straight. They must not suspect who you really
are. We will say that we are brother and sister. Your name had better
be...ah....Dorgan.”

 “Dorgan?” he repeated,
highly amused.

 “Be serious,” she
admonished him. “We come from......name a village on the southern coast of
Serendar.”

 “Calbon.”

 “Very well. We were sailing
to Kelendore to trade, and our boat sprang a leak and sank just off the coast
here. We swam ashore and have been marooned here for a week.” She studied his
appearance critically. “Better make that two weeks - and I don’t see what
you’ve got to grin about.”

 “Don’t you? The efforts
you are currently making to save the neck of the blackguardly mountain brigand
are, I assure you, the most entertaining thing I have seen in a long time. Do
you think with a face like mine they will ever take me for a merchant?”

 But Elorin was in no
mood to be diverted. “Just remember our story - and don’t forget you are now
Dorgan.”

 “How do you propose to
explain to them that I wish to be set down on a deserted part of the coast,
instead of Sar-es-Marn?”

 “I’ll think of something.
If it comes to that, why don’t
you
think of something. You haven’t been
much help so far.”

 He placed his hand on
his heart. “Please accept my humble apologies.”

 She cast him a look of
annoyance and rising to her feet, descended to the shore waving her arms as she
did so.

 One of the fishermen on
the boat was the first to notice her. The oyster he was opening slid from his
hand and he slowly stood up, his jaw dropping.

 “Well I’ll be.....
look, Sorgis, a girl! Oh, and a man with her. How on earth did they get here?”

 His companion also
stood up and after staring for a while said: “I’ll take the rowing boat over
and see what’s going on.”

 “Be careful, Sorgis.
Watch it isn’t a trick by those damned Turog.”

 When the boat neared
the islet, Elorin waded out to meet it. “Thank goodness you’ve come,” she
gasped. “Our ship sank while we were on our way to Kelendore to trade and we
have been marooned here.” She beckoned to Celedorn who had been hanging back.
“This is my brother, Dorgan, and I am Elorin.” She saw shock register on the
fisherman’s face as he saw the three long scars on Celedorn’s cheek but carried
on relentlessly with her story. “We  have been marooned here for days. We
lost everything when our ship foundered and have been living on oysters. You
have no idea how glad we are to see you.”

 The man dragged his
eyes from Celedorn and looked at Elorin’s earnest countenance. His expression
softened a little. “You two look as if you have been through a rough time. I’m
sure you could do with something to eat other than oysters. Come, I’ll take you
back to the boat.”

 On the return journey,
Elorin who had been pondering the problem of how to get the fishermen to leave
before nightfall, had sudden inspiration.

 “You’ve turned up in
the nick of time, you know,” she told Sorgis. “These woods are full of Turog.
More and more seem to be gathering here. I don’t think they know of our
presence yet, but it could only be a matter of time.” 

 The fisherman looked at
her speculatively. “You say there are many?”

 “Dozens,” said Elorin
comprehensively, ignoring a slight choking sound issuing from Celedorn.

 “That’s bad news
indeed. We were hoping to stay for at least a week. I’d better tell the Captain
that.”

  As they approached the
vessel they could see that the other two fishermen had returned to the ship,
clearly anxious to find out what was going on. Friendly hands reached over the
side to help them up. Sorgin obligingly repeated their story to his crewmates.
But one young man, less tactful than his fellows, stared at Celedorn in
round-eyed fascination and blurted out: “How in hell’s name did you get those?”

 Celedorn stiffened but
before he could respond, Elorin intervened. “My brother was attacked by a sea
eagle who thought he was after her young. They are fiercely protective of their
nests you know.”

 “Aye, that they are,”
agreed an older, grey-haired man who was the captain. “A nasty misfortune that,
young man.”

 Celedorn shrugged
indifferently. “Accidents happen.”

  Letting the subject
go, the Captain said: “Now, you’ll be wanting something to eat and I see you’ve
lost your shirt. Sorgin here is about your size. He’ll lend you one. We’ll stay
for the rest of the day collecting what we can, but in view of your news we
dare not stay any longer. We’ll be putting to sea at sunset. Unless we hit it
lucky and find a large pearl soon, our trip will have been wasted. Those damned
creatures can always be relied upon to turn up just when you don’t want them.
You two have been lucky to have survived here for so long without being
caught.”

 “Have you found any
pearls?” Elorin asked, steering the conversation onto safer topics.

 “A few small ones.
Enough to pay our costs but not much more. I take it, when you were living off
oysters, you didn’t find any?”

 Elorin shook her head.
“Not one. I so much wanted to see a silver pearl.”

 The Captain smiled at
her indulgently. “Well so you shall.” He reached into his pocket and produced a
tiny pearl which he set in her hand. For a moment she was disappointed, for it
looked grey and dull, but then the light caught it and in its depths it began
to glow with a silver light like the brightest moonlight. Reading her thoughts
the Captain remarked: “Some call them moonpearls. You should see their light
when the full moon shines on them. King Orovin’s crown is made entirely of the
finest moonpearls. They are ten times more valuable than the white ones. It
makes it worth our while taking the risk of coming to these dangerous shores.”

 “Thank you,” she said,
handing it back to him. “I wish I had something to give you for all the trouble
we are causing you, but we lost everything.”

 “I see your brother
kept his sword.”

 She laughed. “Oh,
you’ll never part him from that. It has accounted for quite a few Turog in its
time,” she said, quite forgetting that Celedorn was supposed to be a merchant.

 The Captain looked at
her thoughtfully. “I would say it has. Now if you’ll follow me down to the
cabin, I’ll get you some food and a shirt for your brother.”

 Celedorn had remained
silent during this exchange, deeming it prudent not to draw attention to
himself, but the Captain suddenly turned to him and asked him what goods he had
intended to trade in Kelendore.

 “Cloth,” replied
Celedorn curtly, not feeling he had quite Elorin’s talent for invention. “It’s
all at the bottom of the sea now.”

 The Captain shook his
grey head sadly. “I suppose it represented everything you had.”

 Celedorn nodded, hoping
that he looked appropriately crushed.

 “The sea is a cruel
mistress,” continued the older man, “full of moods and whims. You may love her
or hate her, but you must always treat her with respect.”

 When Elorin had
finished her meal, she went back on deck and was soon engaged in helping the
fishermen, chattering gaily and soon making friends with them. Celedorn emerged
from the cabin some time later, wearing a white shirt and minus his beard.

 Elorin abandoned her
task of sorting the oysters and came over to him. “What took you so long?”

  He ruefully rubbed the
injured side of his face. “Shaving is tricky.” He nodded towards the crew. “I
see you’ve made friends.”

 “Yes. They all come
from Sar-es-Marn and fortunately know nothing of Calbon. I was dreading one of
them asking me if I knew his cousin who lived there, but I think we have got
away with it.”

 “I’m not so sure. The
Captain has been giving me some strange looks, however, it may not mean
anything.” He raised his eyebrows quizzically at her. “I never realised you
were so talented. It’s worth the risk of discovery, just for the excitement of
finding out what kind of tale you are going to invent next.”

 She laughed. “I have
been impressing upon them the numbers of Turog we are supposed to have seen. I,
for one, am not keen to spend another night here and somehow I feel that if I
tried to describe to them what happened to us last night, they would be
convinced I was either mad or drunk.”

 “They wouldn’t think
that if they had ever seen you drunk.”

  She folded her arms in
chagrin. “Well, isn’t that just typical of you to remind me of that. I suppose
you make no allowance for the fact that I was half starved and scared to
death.”

 To her surprise, his
smile vanished and he frowned a little. “Are you still afraid of me?” he asked
quietly.

 “Only when you try to
be nice to me,” she replied saucily.

 He gave a crack of
laughter, as she knew he would.

 “I think the least we
can do is help to gather oysters today,” she remarked. “I feel guilty about
tricking them into leaving when they have found nothing of value.” She looked at
him significantly.

 “Oh, very well,” he
conceded ungraciously and began to pull off his boots. “Hand me one of those
nets and try to remember that we wouldn’t be in all this trouble if it wasn’t
for you.”

 By the time the sun
began to sink westwards, four moonpearls of fine quality had been found and
Elorin’s conscience rested a little easier. The fishermen assured her it was
enough to make their trip worthwhile. But as the clouds became painted with
lemon and gold, Elorin grew more and more disquiet and stood in the stern of
the ship anxiously watching the darkening shore.

 The Captain, noticing
her restlessness, came and stood beside her.

 “What is it?” he asked.
“Do you see something?”

 “No, not yet but we
have dodged the Turog for so long that I will find no peace until this accursed
shore is left behind. Night-time was always the worst. One could never tell
what might be creeping about in the darkness of the woods. In the end we
abandoned the forest in favour of the islet where you found us. I don’t think
we could have survived another night here.”

 “You and your brother
did well to survive for so long.” The Captain looked at her curiously. “He’s a
good deal older than you isn’t he?”

 Elorin, aware of being
drawn into dangerous territory, replied: “Yes. He’s ten years older than me. In
fact he is my half-brother.”

 “Ah, that would explain
it.”

 “Explain what?”

 “The fact that you
don’t look anything alike.”

  Elorin warily took the
gambit. “He is thought to favour my father, whereas I look like my mother.”

 “He has the look of
someone who knows how to handle that sword.”

 “Yes,” she agreed
cautiously. “Father thought that he should know how to protect me - especially
when we are travelling over land.”

  Her companion
chuckled. “You mean, through the mountains. I doubt even your brother could
deal with that scoundrel Celedorn.”

 Her heart thumped. “No,
I suppose not.” She shot him a suspicious glance but he was looking at the sky,
apparently satisfied with her replies.

 “A good breeze has
sprung up and the tide is on the turn. Time to leave, I think. We have done
well enough and must not press our luck.”