The Destiny of the Sword (22 page)

He was halfway to the door when the lute rang out and her voice rose hi song:

Shonsu...Shonsu...

He stopped. It was a lament, echoing eerily across the barren chamber.

Where have you taken our boys?

Where have you taken our joys?

Shonsu... Shonsu...

The hilts of their swords were bright in the sun,

They held up their heads and submitted to none,

Lovers and brothers and fathers and sons...

He walked back slowly. She stopped and began again, this tune with a slightly changed melody, the pathos and heartrending emotion even stronger, and she added two more hoes. It was a dirge for the forty,nine dead—and she was composing it on the spot.

It would destroy Shonsu utterly.

She stopped and looked up at him mockingly.

He said, ‘Tell me if you plan to complete that, lady. For if you do, then my cause is lost.”

She rose and slung the lute on her back once more. “I shall come with you!”

“Impossible! There will be great danger.”

She shrugged. “I am coming.”

Minstrels were the news media of the World. She wanted to see the next Shonsu battle at firsthand, as a war correspondent. He hesitated, Wallie Smith’s mind suddenly aware of Shonsu’s rampaging glands.

“I,I may fail!” he stammered.

She smiled. “I hope so! I shall enjoy watching you die.”

Indeed?

“I may disappoint you, of course. I may triumph. You had better stay home with the children.”

No reaction to that, thank the gods!

She pouted and seemed to bargain. “If you do succeed, I shall compose an epic for you, Shonsu the hero. It will make you leader.”

He wondered if she were mad, or if he were.

Of course! Honakura!

The old man was meddling again... but surely this was the hand of the Goddess? Nnanji, Katanji, Honakura himself—they were all extraordinary people, sent by the gods to help in his mission. Certainly this superlative minstrel was another. She was a genius. Honakura had seen that and had recruited her. Typical of the old rascal not to give warning!

“There will be great danger,” he said again.

She shrugged. “I have met sorcerers before. They appreciate music more than swordsmen do.”

A spy? There was another possibility!

She started toward the door. He stared after her, thinking of the tiny ship and a week’s voyage. What had she been to Shonsu? Then she reached the bright archway. Sunlight struck through the gauzy wrap as she mounted the steps, and she was a naked woman bearing a lute and walking in blue fire. He had lost his wits to Shonsu’s rage before—now suddenly he blazed with irresistible lust. Shonsu’s mistress! He must have her!

He ran in pursuit.

Nnanji and Thana were sitting outside on a crumbled stump of a wall, hand in hand, lost to everything except each other. They sprang up as the tall woman reached them. Evidently Nnanji had not met her before and probably not known she was there, for he looked startled. He drew his sword and saluted.

Wallie was just in time to catch her response: “I am Doa, minstrel of the seventh rank...”

It was good to know her name, he thought cynically—in case he wanted to speak to her in the dark.

In sunshine and a rollicking wind, Sapphire’s dinghy romped over the water. Thana held the tiller with Nnanji sitting close,

both of them staring in mingled astonishment and amusement at the unexpected recruit. Doa leaned back in complacent contemplation of the scenery, her long brown tresses streaming like a flag. Wallie could not take his eyes off her. His hands trembled.

He had never promised Jja that he would be faithful to her only. He had tried to; she had stopped him from saying the words. Having now heard the People’s version of a marriage contract, he could understand why. He had scoffed at Nnanji’s infatuation over Thana, yet he was behaving like a witless swain himself. He tried to find excuses—this woman had been Shonsu’s mistress and so his reaction was a conditioned reflex.

His conscience did not believe an atom of that.

He told his conscience to shut up.

She might well be a sorcerer spy. He would go and talk with Honakura as soon as he had seen her safely confined aboard Sapphire. Then he saw that Sapphire was not their destination. Griffon had completed her shakedown cruise and was now anchored near the temple. They were almost there.

Thana ran the dinghy alongside and willing hands made her fast. Familiar faces grinned down—most of the males from Sapphire had come along for the ride.

Griffon’s deck was much higher than the dinghy. Wallie wondered how Doa would manage the climb in her impractical silk sheath. He offered a hand. She ignored it, reached for her hem, flashed a brief glimpse of long and shapely legs, and then she was up on the deck, glancing back down at him with a flicker of mockery.

She swung around and made her salute to Tomiyano, who was staring up at her like an astonished boy. Then he recovered his wits and began introducing the others.

Wallie scrambled aboard. “How is she?” he demanded, when the captain was available for business.

“The ship you mean?”

“Of course the ship!”

“Not bad at all,” Tomiyano conceded. There was, of course, only one vessel that could ever be described as good. “Nimble! We could make her faster if we had a couple more days.”

“That we don’t.” Wallie glanced at the sun; two or three hours of daylight left. “We could leave at dawn?**

Tomiyano shrugged. “We could leave now.”

Wallie looked to Nnanji and got an excited nod. Why not? Speed was a priceless skill in warfare.

“Then let’s do so!”

“Who?” the captain asked.

Very good question! “You and me and Nnanji and Thana...” They nodded in turn as he looked their way. “And Lady Doa. We need another sailor.” He turned to the eager group of faces. The youngsters would give their teeth to come, of course: Sinboro and Matarro, for instance. No, he would not fight with children. The obvious choice was the skinny and taciturn Holiyi, who was leaning against the mast with a sardonic smile on his face. He was a bachelor. He had obviously worked it out already.

“Holiyi? Would you?”

Holiyi nodded. Why waste two words when none will do?

“That should be enough,” Wallie said.

Nnanji frowned. “That’s only six!”

Wallie sighed. By the rules of the World it would have to be seven. Jja? But she was not present. He had counted Vixini before, so would have to count him this time, making eight, and to separate Jja from her baby would be... would be as bad as having Jja along with Doa. Not Jja.

Then he saw hope gleaming in impish dark eyes... That seemed ridiculous. With a smashed arm he would be of no practical use. Yet somehow it felt right. He had been ashore in Sen, which was the closest city of the left bank, and must therefore be their destination. An aura of good fortune hung around him... and Wallie would much prefer to keep Katanji under his eye than running wild in Casr when he was away.

Nnanji chuckled and said, “I think so, brother! He brings wisdom.”

Katanji it must be, then. The others would return to Sapphire m the dinghy, and the Griffon expedition could sail at once. If Doa were a spy, she would have no chance to report.

And Wallie would not have to face Jja.

Nnanji began calling out the list of requirements: silk bags, ensorceled wine, food... Each item was acknowledged by whoever had stowed it aboard.

Wallie went over to Doa, who was leaning on the rail, study,

ing the temple. She turned to give him a sultry glance, and it was all he could do to keep his hands off her. “How much did the old man tell you?” he asked.

“Which old man?”

“Lord Honakura.”

Doa frowned. “Who?”

ttt

The World was a simple place. Possessions were few and paperwork nonexistent. Little time was needed to organize the departure. Wallie himself hauled in the anchor as the sailors raised the sails. The stay,at,homes cheered from the dinghy; Griffon leaned her shoulder to the wind and leaped forward.

She was more than nimble. She was speedy, with a sprightli,ness that belied her obvious great age. Her deck was much closer to the water than Sapphire’s and it heeled over at an angle that Wallie at first found alarming. She rocked in the tiny waves of tire River. Very soon, though, he began to relax. A madcap venture this might be, but for the next two or three days he could enjoy a cruise.

Griffon was a simple ship—one mast and a single flat deck, walled around, of course, because anyone who fell off a ship on the River did not live long enough to call for a life preserver. Her planks were scuffed and shabby and bespangled with fish scales. She had two hatches, a small one aft for people and a larger forward for cargo, both presently uncovered. There was also a small dinghy, upturned on the deck, close behind the mast and almost opposite the gate where the plank went out. Clean her up and paint her to kill the stench, Wallie thought, and Griffon would be a very pleasant little vessel.

Yet Griffon was also now a custom,built sorcerer trap, thanks to Holiyi’s carpentry. Even that innocent,seeming upturned dinghy was part of it.

Bright sun and a boisterous wind... and a broad grin on Tb,miyano’s face as he sought the feel of the tiller, squeezing speed from this new toy like juice from a fruit. A cargo ship larger than

t Sapphire was lumbering along ahead, and Wallie was astonished < to see how fast Griffon was overtaking her. Already the first great bend was coming up. He faced aft again and saw that Casr had dwindled into the distance. There was much less shipping there now than there had been—the Goddess had closed down Her swordsman delivery service.

The favorable wind was an encouraging omen, he decided. Of course, if he had made a wrong decision, that next bend might bring him back to Casr. The others were making themselves comfortable on the windward side of the deck, leaning back against tire bulwarks... only four? Where was the minstrel?

Then Doa came scrambling up the ladder. She had ripped her silk wrap into strips and fashioned herself a sailor bikini, as daringly skimpy as Thana’s. She stalked over to the rail to study the scenery.

She was the scenery. Shonsu’s glands went into thundering overdrive again. Barefoot, with waist,length hair surging in the wind, with her unprepossessing face averted and that bare minimum of garment concealing almost nothing, her astounding figure was a fanfare of trumpets to Wallie. Jja was a tall woman, but she was not built on Shonsu’s scale, as this Amazonian minstrel was. He decided it was time to try a little wooing. He had unwittingly offended by ignoring her at the lodge. Wishing he could think of some plausible explanation for that, he walked over to her side and put an arm around her bare flank.

She was fast. Only his own lightning reflexes saved his eyes. He reeled back, fingering a bleeding scrape on his cheek.

“Don’t touch me!”

As he stared open,mouthed, she marched away to join the others.

The others were tying themselves in knots to suppress laughter, waiting to see what Great Lover would do next.

The sun had set. The sky was darkening; remains of the eve,” ning meal were being tidied away by Thana. Griffon’s crew were . stretched out at the aft end of tire deck.

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“Almost time to anchor, Cap’n?” Wallie inquired, pulling a

If
    
blanket over his shoulders.

“Why?” Tomiyano had at last, reluctantly, given Holiyi a chance to try the helm. “Clear sky, good breeze.”

“Fine!” Wallie had not experienced night sailing on the River since he left the holy island, but evidently Griffon could take risks that Sapphire must not. Heroes were allowed to be lucky. He went back to considering Doa.

Hie others had been deferential to her rank. Her attitude to them had been haughty and aloof, yet she had replied graciously to their questions and comments, been tolerant or even friendly. Toward Wallie her behavior was the exact opposite—seductive glances under lowered eyelashes, deep breathing, signals imploring intimacy, but the few words she had spared him had been waspish or openly scurrilous. The combination made no sense at all, a welcome sign hung on a locked door, and he was at a loss to know what reaction was expected of him.

Now she was talking with Katanji, a remarkable concession from a Seventh to a Fust, even a First with his great social skills. Of course it had been Katanji who had supplied the subject matter for her satirical ballad, and now she discovered that he had not yet heard it. She picked up her lute, struck a chord, and launched into Novice Katanji to the Dark Tower Came. Thana and the two sailors hooted with laughter as the tale unfolded; Katanji was soon almost choking. Nnanji’s initial smiles turned rapidly to glares. Wallie tried hard to bury his own resentment under admiration for her troubadour skill, but the satire bit like adders: Shonsu cowering in a ship, sending forth his one,boy army disguised as a slave. The sorcerers were savaged, also, but the swordsmen came off worse.