The Grand Crusade (49 page)

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Authors: Michael A. Stackpole

Tags: #Fantasy, #Science Fiction

BOOK: The Grand Crusade
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Kerrigan had high hopes when they came down to a cove where an Aurolani

ship sheltered. A quick spell put everyone on board asleep. The Grey Misters swarmed over the single-masted vessel, dispatching the crew and pitching their bodies overboard. Kerrigan, Oracle, Bok, Rym, Trawyn, and the sleeper had remained onshore during the ship’s takeover. With the assault successfully completed, they came on board. Some of the Vorquelves brought the gangway aboard while others quickly surrounded them on the rowers’ deck and Predator looked down on them from the wheeldeck.

“There has been a change of plans. We are sailing south.” Kerrigan shook his head. “You know that won’t happen. I won’t let that happen.”

“What are you going to do, Kerrigan? Are you going to hole this boat? No, of course not.” Predator began to strut. “I have tolerated what you have done because heading north was in keeping with my plans. Had we turned south, we would have been in more danger. But now we have a ship and will be able to sail back to Yslin with the fragments. You can’t stop us because you can’t sail this ship all by yourself.”

Kerrigan gaped at him. “You can’t stop now, Predator.” He pointed north toward Vorquellyn. “We are so close.”

“We aretooclose.” The Vorquelf shook his head. “When you brought the Lakaslin fragment to Loquellyn they wouldn’t let you take it to Fortress Draconis because they knew there was a chance that Chytrine would take it from you there. Now you want us to taketwofragments to an island she’s owned for more than a century? The foolishness of that choice is obvious. The Loquelves wouldn’t let you do it, and neither will I.”

Kerrigan shook his head. “The only place this ship is sailing is to Vorquellyn. Count on that.”

“Idle threat, Kerrigan.” Predator folded his arms across his chest. “The only way to stop us from taking it is to kill us, and you won’t do that. You’re not a killer.”

“He’s not, butIam.”

Predator whirled to face the speaker. “But

You’re dead!”

“Not really; I just feel like it.” Resolute, sodden from his swim to the ship and climb up the tiller, caught Predator in the side of the head with a punch. The blow knocked the smaller Vorquelf into the ship’s wheel, where his arms caught and he hung limply. Resolute shook his hand out, then rubbed at it. After a moment he looked out over the knot of Grey Misters.

“We’re going to Vorquellyn. Now let’s get moving.”

“Wait.” Oracle took a step forward. “Before we go, we have to offer gifts to Tagothcha to guarantee safe passage.”

Resolute nodded. “I’ll toss him Predator.”

“Gifts, Resolute, not something you don’t want.”

The silver-eyed Vorquelf shrugged. “The gibberers left me little save Syverce. I really have nothing to offer.”

“I do.” Kerrigan shucked his pack and rooted around in it. He withdrew a slender cloth-wrapped cylinder. He undid the ties, then peeled the cloth from a long, slender crystal with gold collars on each end. The collars had been set with various gemstones. Several of the Grey Misters gasped when they saw it, and greed lit their faces. “I’ll give him this.”

Resolute shook his head. “That’s too valuable.”

“Which makes it even more appropriate. I got this from the urZrethi to reward me for helping them do something important. That’s what we want Tagothcha to do, so this is fitting.”

Holding it before him, he walked to the prow. Tagothcha, theweirunof the Crescent Sea, had a reputation for being notoriously capricious and even malevolent. Fishermen and traders regularly offered him gifts of wine or gold before setting out on a journey in hope the sea would be kind to them. While the mages of Vilwan tended to be dismissive of the gods, even they offered gifts to appease Tagothcha before sailing.

Kerrigan smiled. “Tagothcha, this is a treasure carried from the heart of Bokagul to you. Please grant us safe passage in our journey.” He pulled his hand back, then threw the wand out into the darkness and heard it splash.

After him, one by one, the Grey Misters made their own offerings. None of them had anything to equal the wand, but coins, a ring or two, several knives, and a dozen gibberer pelts all sank beneath the waves. Resolute carved Elvish words on a wooden plate he’d taken from below and sailed that out into the night.

Kerrigan looked at him with an upraised eyebrow. “What did you offer?”

“Dozens of gibberers driven into his arms.”

Trawyn likewise inscribed a plate and flung it into the night. “There are wards at Rellaence Bay that bar his entry. I will have them removed.”

Qwc, who had flown to the ship after Predator had been dealt with, landed on the masthead and raised his spear over his head. “Yours. Qwc is done with it.” The silver spear spun out and sank beneath the waves with a tiny splash.

By far the most curious of the gifts was the one offered by Oracle. She lowered a bucket on a rope and brought it up full of water. She sank her face into it and spoke—or so Kerrigan assumed, since the water bubbled—then poured the water back into the sea. She wiped her face on a sleeve, but refused to say much about what she had offered. “A vision of the future, nothing more.”

Resolute watched for a moment, then nodded. “I believe, then, we are ready to go. To the oars.”

The Grey Misters moved to comply with his order. Resolute, Bok, and Kerrigan brought the anchor up while Trawyn stepped over Predator and took hold of the wheel.

Resolute pointed at a star winking above the horizon. “Steer by Plenariath and soon enough we’ll be home.”

I thought I was never to see you again.“ Sayce’s comment, voiced in little more than a whisper, sank like a knife into Isaura’s heart. The first time she’d spoken to the woman had been less than two weeks before, and Isaura had brought her food every day. They’d conversed a little and Sayce had become a bit emboldened and even feisty. It was an aspect of people Isaura had not seen before, and she had come to enjoy it.

Then, barely a half week past, her mother fell into a towering rage. Isaura didn’t know what to do. Ferxigo had told her to be available to her mother constantly while thesullanciriheaded south to deal with Aurolan’s defenses. While nothing was said, Isaura felt there must have been some sort of reversal in the south. Her mother had not been nearly as upset when Okrannel had been lost, so this was clearly something that had not been expected.

Isaura had not been able to visit Sayce. Hlucri had seen to it that the Murosan got her food and had enough in the way of blankets to keep her warm, but for the last six days, Sayce’s shackles had not been loosed, nor had she been allowed to leave her cell, even fettered.

Isaura slipped an arm around Sayce’s shoulders and could feel the woman shivering beneath the drearbeast cloak. “I wanted to come, but my mother needed me.”

Sayce, walking along beside Isaura through the castle corridors, kept her voice small. “Something happened, didn’t it?”

Isaura nodded. She had pieced things together from her mother’s mutter-ings, of which she heard far too much. Her mother spent most of her time in the highest reaches of the palace working at spells, or deep in the bowels of the earth visiting the Oromise. Isaura had accompanied her on one trip down there, and spent hours listening to her mother in herarcanorium.

i

Neither experience made her feel good, and both made her wonder after her mother’s sanity.

Isaura knew she should not tell Sayce anything about the war, and especially nothing that would suggest difficulty with the Aurolani effort. It would be cruel to give the woman false hope. A momentary setback would not stop her mother’s march to victory. Isaura did not doubt the final outcome of the war, but she also could not bring herself to crush Sayce’s spirit, especially when the woman already felt abandoned and alone.

Much as I do these days.

Isaura kept her voice low, though she knew Hlucri could hear her despite his remaining at a discreet distance behind them. “One of my mother’ssullanciridied. About the same time anothersullancirihad her army mauled in Saporicia. That army has fallen back and will join with Nefrai-kesh’s forces in Muroso.”

Sayce stiffened at the mention of her home.

“I’m sorry.”

“Actually you are not, Isaura, but I know that. I don’t mind.” The smaller woman turned her head, offering Isaura half a smile from within a furred hood. “I would tell you that I’m sorry your mother lost asullanciri, but I am not. Was that Dark Lancer a friend of yours?”

What was she to me? Myrall’mara had always kept herself apart, even more than the othersullanciri, save perhaps for the dead ones. They offered nothing in the way of conversation or intellectual engagement at all. But Myrall’mara had always been melancholy around her and avoided her as much as possible. Isaura had returned the favor, and while she would have thought that would have been something thesullanciriwanted, Isaura’s withdrawal seemed to cause Myrall’mara more pain, not less.

“Myrall’mara was someone I had known, but not well. None of my mother’ssullanciri, except Hlucri, were exactly what you would call friendly. Though Nefrai-kesh is always nice to me and brings me things.” Isaura slipped a glove off her hand and showed the sapphire ring he’d brought from Oriosa. “He gave me this. He said the Oriosan Queen wanted me to have it.”

Sayce shivered again. “You know he murdered her, don’t you?”

“I don’t

”

“Twisted her head off and put it in the hands of her son, Scrainwood.” The Murosan nodded toward the ring. “He must have taken that from her corpse and presented it to you. Must have cleaned it first, though.”

Isaura looked closely at the ring, seeking any tiny fleck of blood. She knew it was impossible that there would be any, but still she could almost feel blood flowing from beneath the stone and washing over her hand in a warm, sticky coat.He couldn’t have, could he?

“You must be mistaken. He was quite clear about her intent.”

Sayce sighed. “You surprise me.”

“How so?”

“You are Chytrine’s heir. You command many people here, and yet you are so naive. Why would she offer you the ring when no one knew you existed? Had anyone known Chytrine had an heir, and that gifts offered might curry favor, there would be miles of caravans waiting to enrich you beyond all knowing. And why, if she did offer you the ring, would he murder her?”

“How do you know he did?”

“There are witnesses and he is asullanciri. Either explanation suffices.”

The dull finality in Sayce’s reply sent a shiver crawling down Isaura’s spine. She peered at the ring even more closely and thought about using a spell to see if there were impressions left on the ring by the queen’s death. She could have cast it and learned, once and for all, if Sayce told the truth, but she already knew what the outcome of that casting would be.

She quickly pried the tainted ring off her finger and tossed it to Hlucri.

Thesullanciricaught it, sniffed, then let it hang from a talon.

“When we get outside, throw it as far away as you can.”

Hlucri nodded silently.

“We’re going outside?”

“Yes. You can’t outrun Hlucri.” Isaura turned left and made quickly for a doorway that led into the ice garden. When Neskartu still instructed students from the south in the ways of Aurolani magick, they used to come to the garden and practice spells that would grow marvelous things from a seed of enchanted ice. Neskartu was dead, and most of his students were as well—with most of the survivors in the south already fighting. The garden would have fallen to ruin save for Isaura’s work and Drolda’s careful tending.

Sayce gasped as she saw the garden. Plants, complete with flowers, and creatures of incredible delicacy, had been grown from ice. Glassine trees had leaves that swayed in unfelt breezes, and birds had individually rendered feathers fletching them. Timid rabbits peered out from the base of ice bushes, and flowers pointed their crystal faces toward the sun—never having to move much in so northern a clime.

“Isaura, this is so beautiful.” Sayce reached a gloved hand toward a flower, but held back from touching it. “I don’t want to ruin anything.”

Isaura grasped the flower for which she reached and snapped it off, then handed it to her. “You see, thereisbeauty in my nation.”

Sayce took the proffered flower and slowly nodded her head. “I never thought there wasn’t.”

“You hate Aurolan.”

“No, I don’t. I hate what Aurolan is doing to my nation. I know your mother is making those things happen. I can understand people following her. That doesn’t mean I don’t think there is beauty here.” Sayce raised the flower to her nose and sniffed. “You have shown me the beauty of Aurolan.”

Isaura frowned. “This is but one part of it.”

The Murosan shook her head. “Not this, not the countryside, but the true

beauty of it. Isaura, you could have left me to starve in the dungeons. You didn’t have to bring me food. You didn’t have to befriend me. You did that because of something inside you. Chytrine may be your mother in one way or another, but you don’t have her heart. You have a loving heart, agoodheart. You would be cherished anywhere, respected anywhere, accepted anywhere, and loved anywhere.“

The redheaded woman’s face came up. “Have you ever been in love?”

Isaura shook her head quickly. “No.”

“Oh, Isaura.” Sayce lowered the flower and began to walk deeper into the garden. “I have. It is beautiful. I loved—Ilove—Will Norrington.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Sayce laughed lightly. “Hard to say, really. He wasn’t what I expected him to be. You grow up hearing the Norrington Prophecy and you expect him to be this huge man with bulging muscles who could break a hoargoun over his knee. That’s what I thought I would find when I met him but

Well, you saw him when you healed him.”

“He was nothing as you described him.”

“No, he wasn’t. I think that is how he got to me. Here he was, this little thief, but someone who could be kind and gentle. He made me laugh. He reminded me that kings and princes and lords and ladies were just people, too, and not always very good. In him I found a nobility—a little tarnished, but nobility nonetheless—that born nobles seldom possess.”

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