Kadie’s fear exploded like red flame in the ambience. “You’re not going to leave me here!” she said shrilly. “You promised!”
After all those months of terror, she had seized on Thaile as her rescuer and protector—and in truth she had no one else to rely on and nowhere else to go. She was almost as much a victim of this terrible war as the legionaries had been.
“Are you quite sure that’s what you want?”
Green eyes lit up with relief and excitement. “Why not? I want to see Thume!”
“Let’s take a day or two to think about it,” Thaile said. It felt strangely, sadly inevitable. Premonition told her of danger and horror if she went home, but it also hinted at far worse futures if she did not, and in some vague, unlocatable way, it suggested that returning and taking Kadie along might be the best choice of all. Only one thing felt certain—she had a destiny to meet, and a duty.
4
Rap had been wrong; Thrugg had been right.
Rap had thought he would have several days in which to perfect his plans. Thrugg had foreseen the storm. Dreadnought was hurtling through Rip Channel like a trout in a water pipe, and leaking at every joint.
The hammocks and sea chests littered around showed that the fo’c’s’le had been sleeping quarters for eight men. It was low and smelly and loud with the groans of the ship. Although he was in many ways a most unusual jotunn, Sagorn had a typical disregard for the perils of the sea. He was sleeping like a very long baby in a wildly swaying hammock. The darkness was complete, and Rap risked a flash of power to light a lantern. A chorus of protest in the ambience complained that he was breaking the ship’s rule against using sorcery.
“Sorry! We haven’t much time! Doctor?” he said aloud, shouting over the tumult of wind and waves.
The old man opened his eyes and blinked. “We have to leave,” Rap said.
“Our position?”
“About half a league off Dragon Reach and sinking.”
“Oh?” Sagorn pulled a smile, which for once seemed genuinely amused and not scornful. “That doesn’t seem very efficient for a shipload of sorcerers!”
“We could correct the situation, but the power required can better be applied otherwise.”
“How?” The old jotunn twisted expertly in the hammock and planted his feet safely on the deck. Had he been a sailor at some time in his many shared lives, or was that a racial skill?
Dreadnought heeled over at a dangerous angle and this time seemed reluctant to straighten. Timbers groaned menacingly. A sea chest slid gratingly across the deck and slammed into another.
Rap offered the old man a hand to help him straighten. “You and I will be transported to Ilrane. The others will go ashore on Dragon Reach.”
Sagorn banged his head on a beam and cursed. “When you say me, you mean one of my associates?”
“Andor, I think. He has been to Ilrane before.”
“And you can do this without alerting the Covin?”
“With thirty-seven of us in concert, we have ample power.” Sagorn nodded and rubbed his eyes. “And the vessel will be left to sink alone? I see. Of course your journey will be wasted or even suicidal if Zinixo has already located Warlock Lith’rian. So you must assume that he hasn’t?”
“Olybino mentioned him and Zinixo did not produce him, which suggests that he is still at liberty.”
The ship heeled again. The old man swayed unconsciously to remain upright. ”You risk a lot on a mere suggestion. And just how do you intend to locate the missing warlock when the Almighty has failed?”
“I shall look in the obvious place, of course.”
Sagorn’s eyes glinted in the gloom. With the barest hesitation he said, ”Isn’t that too obvious?”
“Then—knowing elves as we both do—doesn’t that make it certain?”
The jotunn chuckled. “Well, you may be right there.”
“I’m glad you agree with me.” Rap had a great deal of respect for Sagorn’s acumen. “Time is pressing, Doctor.”
“One question before I depart. When are you going to start the war?”
Rap shrugged. Dreadnought was listing badly now and shipping water at an alarming rate.
“I don’t know. I’m not sure it’s up to me to sound the trumpet. Three weeks to Longday, roughly.”
The old man looked hard at him, frowning. “The Midsummer Moot? The imperor was going to Nordland?”
“That was the plan, and Raspnex had some scheme he wouldn’t discuss, remember? I think it may have involved the thanes. I doubt that there are very many sorcerers to be garnered among the jotnar, but it’s worth a try, I suppose. We’re not sure that Olybino was loud enough to be heard in Nordland.”
“I see. That’s why you think Longday matters?”
“Not really,” Rap admitted. “This afternoon Thrugg announced that it felt important, and Thrugg’s the most potent sorcerer on the ship. Now his mother and Tik Tok are agreeing with him. Grunth and the others will need time to deal with the dragons. Three weeks will be cutting it very fine.”
“Of course.” Sagom smiled grimly and held out a frail hand. ”Then I shall call Andor in my place and wish you luck of him. I also wish you luck with Warlock Lith’rian!”
“Thanks,” Rap said. “I’ll need it.”
5
The post inn at Yugg had no name and would never rank stars in any travelers’ guide. Shandie had met worse in his time—but not often. Nonetheless, as dawn brightened the rain clouds outside he tackled a greasy breakfast with an enthusiasm he would probably regret as soon as the stagecoach began to move. Last night’s meeting with Oshpoo had encouraged him greatly. He had enlisted a substantial, if unknown, number of sorcerers to battle the Almighty, he had also solved the Guwush problem that had baffled his grandfather for thirty years. If you can’t win give up! What could be more obvious? The Senate would howl, of course. Shandie looked forward to that struggle with pleasure. It would certainly beat fighting sorcerers.
The sooner that war was fought and won the better!
He recognized the feeling: It was time for battle to commence. This was not a campaign like any other he had ever fought, but there came a point in all conflicts when the opposing forces were arrayed and preliminary skirmishing gave way to the main event. Time was now on Zinixo’s side, for the Covin must still be tracking down and enlisting sorcerers. The counterrevolution would rot away if it was not soon shown some leadership.
Raspnex and Inos were crammed in beside him at the little corner table. He cleared his throat. Neither paid any attention. The dwarf was picking grumpily at a bowl of some darkly anonymous gruel. He was grouchy at the best of times and venomous at breakfast. So far he had not said a word.
Inos had abandoned her food altogether and was apparently writing a letter. She had steadied a paper on the back of a book and was holding it up to the uncertain light from the window, chewing her tongue and frowning as she doodled.
Shandie started over. “We shan’t have a chance to talk until noon at the earliest. Has anyone got any suggestions about where we go from here?”
Raspnex continued eating, his chin barely higher than the dishes. “Out of this flea-ridden swamp, posthaste.”
“Granted. I mean after we meet up with Wirax and the others.” The other sorcerers were rounding Guwush by sea, due to rendezvous at Randport—two dwarves, two goblins, and a jotunn. “When does the war start?”
“Longday,” Raspnex mumbled with his mouth full. “What! Midsummer? How do you know that?”
The warlock glanced up blankly, seeming surprised “Dunno; Just feels right, somehow. Hunch.”
About to bark a scathing comment, Shandie remembered that he was talking with a sorcerer, whose hunches might well be reliable. Longday was still three weeks off, though. “Then what do we do next?”
Again the dwarf filled his mouth with gruel. He looked up sourly and said, ”We wait for the leader’s signal, of course.”
“Meaning Rap?”
“Who else?”
Mm! It was Shandie’s impire that had been stolen. He was a soldier and Rap was not.
“Much as I respect the king of Krasnegar as a man—and I agree completely with Ishist’s remark that he `stands out of the light’ as few other—”
“I suppose you want to go on the offensive?”
“Yes I do! Now that everyone knows about—”
“And attack what?” Raspnex growled.
“The Covin, of course.”
“Where?” the warlock demanded, scowling. “How? You’re thinking like a brainless musclebound legionary. Find the enemy and stick a spear in him, I presume? Well, that doesn’t work with sorcery.”
Inos whistled a small tune and continued with her writing, not looking up.
“Perhaps you should explain,” Shandie said coldly. “I am feeling unusually musclebound this morning.”
Page: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102