Sea of Death (38 page)
For minutes Gord sat in stunned silence, his mind reeling, frantically seeking some different solution. Leda seemed to realize the instant when he finally gave in.
"You know what you must do, my dearest one."
"Yes, I know, Leda," Gord answered. There is an inescapable conclusion, and I understand I must now face it."
"I will love you always, Gord, even when I must become more and more Eclavdra and less and less myself."
"I know…"
Then you must do as Vuron says."
"But I am not ready to give you up yet! Can we have time for a proper farewell, at least?"
There is no time, love. Even the power of the Final Key cannot maintain this static condition for long. Unless it passes to me soon, and I to the deeps of the Abyss, there will be what was here before – all alignments contending in a struggle of doom."
Gord bent and kissed her then, a long, lingering kiss of farewell. It had to last him forever, and he knew it. Then he stepped back, holding her shoulders at arms' length. "You are free to act, Leda, my loved one. Do as you must. I do not resist your decision, be it as it may. I freely give you the Final Key." There was no feeling in his voice as he uttered those words, no light in his eyes as he spoke.
Leda took his hands briefly, then allowed hers to trail slowly from his grasp in a last, unspoken goodbye. "I am ready now, Vuron," she told the pale demon lord as she picked up the brass coffer.
"Eclavdra, High Priestess and Champion of Graz'zt, declares victory in his name and commands you to carry Me and the prize I have won to him!"
Vuron said not a word, but he looked at Gord with what might have been sympathy. His gaze moved aside, fixing on a spot not far from where the young adventurer sat. Then Leda-Eclavdra stepped to a position beside the demon, and the two disappeared without a sound.
His friends looked at him in stunned silence, none daring to speak. Gord didn't notice. He sat slowly, bowed his head, and remained that way in silence, eyes open but not looking at anything. He sat this way for so long that the ones who waited for him might have thought him dead, except for the shallow breathing that was barely discernible to those closest to him. Finally, Shade sat down next to him and spoke.
"You did as a hero would do, Gord. I speak for all when I tell you that none of us would have had the wit or the will to do so brave a thing as you have done."
The young man lifted his head and turned his gray eyes toward the half-elf, but Shade could detect nothing within their depths. The gaze was flat and bore no hint of what lay beyond the windows of his mind.
Then Barrel approached deferentially. Tour sword, cap'n… I found it just layin' in the grass and figured you'd be wan tin' it soon."
Gord accepted the proffered weapon without comment. Then he looked down again, his eyes still dead and his face a mask. Everyone else simply waited as the sky turned a leaden gray and a drizzle of cold rain began to fall. Gord didn't seem to notice. It would be a long afternoon… and a longer night.
"AINT MUCH OF A PLACE!" Barrel said disdainfully, gesturing to indicate that the remark referred to the whole of Dolle Port.
"I thought, big-bellied one, that you came from this place," Dohojar said with mock wonder at the burly man's expression of distaste.
"Sure, sure," Barrel agreed. The Seakings' Lands is where I was born as all babes must be birthed, but I was raised aboard a ship – and it's the smell of salt air and the sound of wind in the rigging that I long for now, you sun-baked lubber!" He made a mock gesture of anger that even the Changa could not fail to interpret as jesting.
"Barrel's right," Smoker agreed. This town is about as dirty and dull as any I've ever seen. What say, Gord? I'm ready to see the last of this place if you are."
Delver rumbled his affirmation of that. "We dwarven folk aren't known as seafarers, captain, but as far as I'm concerned, Barrel said it. Even a sea voyage is better than spending another night in Dolle Port."
At that Shade laughed, and Post too chuckled. That's unanimous, Gord, for the two of us can't disagree," Post said for the half-elf and himself. "It's up to you, though, because you're the one we elected as leader, and nobody's taken that back yet."
"Yet? What does that mean, Post?"
"Hell's flaming floors, captain!" the lean man exclaimed. "You don't really expect us to agree to elect you permanent captain, do you?"
Even Gord had a laugh at that. "Well, I just don't know what to do next," he then said with a serious tone. There are a number of possibilities…"
"Not at all!" Barrel was adamant. "There's a vessel leavin' for a cruise along the coast o' the Western Jungle tomorrow – just the ticket for us, and there's places left we can take. Why, with a bit o' luck, we'll all come out as rich as the potentates of them places Dohojar keeps talkin' about. Even if we don't make it big, exactly, the master of that ship – the Slobberin' Sea Lion, or somethin' like that -tells me he's headed for the Ulek Prince's state to trade when he's done with the jungle savages. With the wealth we pick up there, we can- "
"Enough," Gord said with a sigh of resignation. "I guess a little sailing on the seas of Oerth is bound to do me some good. Seeing as how the rest of you seem to have already made up your minds, I'll go along with the decision. First thing in the morning, we sign up with the Sovereign Sea Lion," he said, casting a sly glance at Barrel as he corrected the man's pronunciation. "For better or worse, we'll be sailing the sea as free traders by tomorrow afternoon."
For a second, Barrel considered pointing out that true sailors didn't consider Jade Bay part of the sea, though it was a good-sized body of water. Then we'd better be prepared, boys!" he caroled happily to the others. "Settin' sail tomorrow means we've a heap o' funnin' to do tonight. It just won't do to board a new ship without an achin' head and a flat purse, you know."
All six managed to get a grasp on some portion of Gord. By pulling and pushing, the laughing band directed their leader toward the line of taverns that stood near the wharf. Barrel was the most experienced sailor of the lot, and there was no profit in disagreeing with such learned opinion.
"Soon I will see the true wonders of the east," Dohojar said to Gord. The young thief couldn't tell for sure if the dark-eyed Changa was serious or pulling his leg. Somehow, it didn't really matter. In a few minutes there would be beakers of wine and lusty songs to fill his mind with meaninglessness. Tomorrow was tomorrow, and there was no merit in knowing either it, or truth, right now.
The light of dawn made the waters of Dolle Port's deep pool a bright mirror, and for a short time the winds were calm, keeping the big ship motionless upon the surface of the bay. Then the heat of the rising sun brought a breeze from the land. The sails flapped idly at first, then filled and grew taut. The wind pushed the Sovereign Sea Lion southward, and in its stout-timbered hull its crew and officers raised a cheer. Even the ship seemed to leap at that, as glad in its own way as the life aboard it was to be making for distant ports and far places.
A solitary, muffled figure stood watching from the docks as the ship's creamy sails grew smaller and soon were but a black specie disappearing on the horizon. The figure stayed until the ship vanished entirely. Then it turned, mingled with the passing throng, and was lost.
Document ID: fbd-870f7a-1273-5d49-a48c-b480-b28f-dec0c0
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Document creation date: 28.06.2009
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