“Well, given the choice, I think I’d rather be marooned than sunk. But I’d rather be sailing than either of the above, so I’m going back to the pump. If you feel up to it, you might relieve me in a while, Fata Morgana or no Fata Morgana.”
He went below and I went back to checking our emergency equipment. After a while, I had done everything I could think of, even reading the checklist, and went below to help Adam. Then, suddenly, the ladder wasn’t where it was supposed to be, and I was knocked unconscious again.
NINE
On the highest peak of the Western Isles, two figures stood watching as the storm winds blew their long capes high behind their backs. Aldrich Skybolt, journeyman wizard and Master of Radios, pointed due east into the wind.
“There! A ship! I told you it was coming!” He shouted above the wind in a language akin to ancient French.
“Yes, but it’s an old one! Look, it has a mast. It’s broken, but it’s still a mast. That thing is a sailing ship. I was told that the outsiders stopped using such craft a century ago,” cried Sister Joan of the Lyonnesse Nunnery.
“That’s no ancient ship, sister! I have been hearing its many radios for hours. It may be powered by the wind, but its equipment is brand new.”
“Believe what you want. How do you know that this ship is the one you heard? They stopped calling half an hour ago!”
“I tell you, I know! The law says that the Shire Reeve must be told immediately, as must the Council of Wizards and the Warlock!”
“Then you must tell them yourself, Master Aldrich, because I am going to alert the Archbishop of this ship’s coming!”
“You’re going to play politics when Christian lives are in danger? You know that I can’t leave my post! Look! They’re sure to be shipwrecked on our shore, near the Point of Avalon! The Shire Reeve there must be told first, so he can call out the Sea Farmers and the Fishermen! Lives are at stake!”
“All lives are in the hands of God, Aldrich, and God will decide whether they live or die. And how do you know that the people in that ship are Christians? Odds are that they are Heathens, or even Atheists!”
“I warn you of the law, sister! When there is danger from the sea, the Reeve must be told first. If you must suck up to your superiors, and try to advance yourself at the expense of innocent lives, do so and be damned! But you must go to the Reeve first!”
“He’s on my way, so I’ll do it. But the Archbishop will hear about this before your Warlock does!”
“Then so be it, but get moving, woman! There are lives at stake!”
The nun ran down the long path to the shore. When she was out of sight, the wizard hurried down to his cave, unlocked a chest, picked up crude, handmade telephone and said, “Warlock? Warlock? Are you there, master? A ship, a strange new ship is about to wreck on the point of Avalon. This may be the one we have waited for all these years! Warlock, are you there?”
* * *
I awoke, naked and in pain, on a stiff, lumpy bed with scratchy sheets. For some reason, this inferior bed had been covered by a rich blue velvet bedspread with a wide border that was heavily embroidered with threads of at least a dozen colors. It portrayed some sort of a medieval scene, a party of noble knights and ladies with their dogs and horses on a field of flowers. It looked to be done by hand, and if so, must have taken thousands of man-hours, or more likely woman-hours, to make. For a few moments, my back and neck in pain, I couldn’t help wishing that they had spent more money on the mattress and less on the decoration.
The ceiling was high above me, thirty feet at least, and glancing about I saw that I was alone in a sparsely furnished bedroom that was big enough to be used for a game of professional basketball. Three walls and the whole domed ceiling were heavily carved, or maybe it was plaster work, but it was done in a style that I had never seen before. It was partly an elaborate floral decoration, but there were also bas reliefs of men and women that gave the feeling of being actual portraits rather than simple decoration.
One wall was made up of tall, thick Doric pillars, beyond which was a small garden that looked out on the sea, a few hundred feet below. There was no glass in the windows thus formed, but the weather was fair, and the temperature comfortable. The storm was over, the sky was a cloudless blue with the beginnings of a sunset, the sun being just a few degrees above the horizon. Seagulls were flying above a blue sea touched with pink by the occasional breaking wave.
I rolled and sat up at the edge of the bed, and an incredible pain shot through my head. I stayed there a bit, groaning, and then let myself slowly back under the covers. It seemed that I would live, but I was far from well. My body was a mass of bruises, from my lumpy head to my smashed toes. It felt as though every tendon, ligament, and muscle I had was pulled. Except for my eyeballs, all bodily motion was painful. The good news was that as best as I could tell, my bones were reasonably sound, I could wiggle my toes, so my spinal cord was all right, and the cuts on my back were sewn up and bandaged.
My groans must have attracted the nurse, because she came immediately. She wasn’t the adolescent dream that my ex-wife had been, but she was nonetheless a remarkably attractive woman. She looked to be in her early thirties, with very fair skin and long, blond hair, held back by a jeweled clasp. She wore no makeup, but I caught a hint of a strange, musky perfume. Her posture was very erect, and she walked with a sort of flowing motion, almost as if she were on wheels rather than legs.
I called her a nurse since somehow she acted that way, but she certainly wasn’t dressed like one. She wore a floor-length vermilion dress held out by hoops. The bodice was tight and was cut about as low as it could go, actually exposing the upper parts of her nipples. The entire dress, like my fabulous bedspread, had been adorned with several thousand woman-hours of embroidery.
She felt my forehead and then my pulse.
“Where am I?” I said. “What is this place?”
She answered me in something that was maybe French, or even Latin, and I couldn’t make out a word of it.
“Is there anyone here who understands English?” I said slowly, carefully, and a bit too loudly. I had to find out about Adam, and The Brick Royal.
Again, her response meant nothing to me. I used the few words I remembered from my high school Latin, but got no response.
All I remembered from my college Russian was how to say that I was going to go soon to the library, but I was either not understood, or the nurse didn’t care about who went to Russian libraries. I tried the limited Vietnamese that my parents had allowed me to learn, but that too drew a blank.
Finally, resorting to sign language, I gesticulated that I was thirsty and hungry, and at last met with some success. Within minutes she was back with a bowl of almost meatless stew in a porcelain bowl, a wooden spoon, a clay cup, and a pottery pitcher of beer. That is to say, I thought it might be beer, even though it was thin, flat, and strangely flavored. It definitely contained alcohol, which in my book put this place way ahead of the average American hospital.
After a cup of the beer, I felt the call of nature, and though it embarrassed me to do so, I had to gesticulate my needs. She handed me a chamber pot from under the bed, and discreetly left for a few minutes. I’d never used a chamber pot before, but I’d heard of them. It sufficed.
On returning, she talked a long while, and although I still could not understand a word of what she said, her tone and her bearing let me know that somehow I was in good hands, that all would be well. Later, she rolled me over and massaged my back, carefully avoiding the places where I had been cut.
The sun was setting. Contented and comfortable, I fell asleep. When I awoke, the thin grey light of morning was coming through the window wall. It was almost unpleasantly cool. My nose was cold, but the rest of me was warm enough under the thick covers, some of which must have been added while I was asleep. In a short while, the sun came up and shined directly in my eyes. I watched it for a long time, and it was definitely rising.