The Warrior's Tale (19 page)

We were about to crash into the reefs. Their claws rose, grasping, just ahead of our bows. And there could be no turning, no evading, as another wave was upon us.

Again we were lifted, lifted and then buried in the depths and yet again we lived through it, spinning down into the swirling oceans in the wake of these hell waves, and we yet lived.

I remembered the reef, the reef we were about to impale ourselves on, and searched ahead for that new death. But there was nothing and I realized what had happened and looked
behind and
saw the wave had lifted us up and over those knife-rocks.

But there were more rocks around us and Stryker was giving commands and the oarsmen were trying to obey but there was no time for anything, as yet a third wave bore down on us.

This time, as we rose, I saw two other ships in the grip of the wave -
both Orissan.

Again, we survived.

The waves came four more times that grim day, each time lifting us and taking us further to the west, further into unknown seas, further from that solid line of reefs that blocked our only known path home to Orissa.

But finally the last wave had taken us and passed on, and we were tossing in a 'normal' storm, able to take stock. Through the murk I saw other ships. One of them was Cholla Yi's.

We were not the only survivors.

I saw no sign of the Lycanthian ships. I think, being less quick at the helm, they must have been destroyed by the volcano's waves. But perhaps some survived, to be driven against the reefs or even to live on, to die on barbaric shores. It mattered not to me. Lycanth was ended.

But at an awful price.

We were lost on unknown seas, our charts useless. Men and women were dead and wounded. The only salvadon I could see would be in magic. Just as sorcery had brought us to these straits, so our own magic was the only hope we had.

But lying bloodied, just where his tent had been set just before the
battle
, was Gamelan. He moved not at all, and there was a great bruise at his forehead.

He appeared quite dead.

Eight

A
t heart, am
. gods are malign thugs. I say this without fear, for I have been both favoured and damned by the gods, and I'm still uncertain whether we are better off blessed or cursed. I think we are all part of a game of theirs, overseen by a Master Jester, and the board He designed is so littered with pigshit that no mortal can cross without fouling her boots. I've also never seen a treasure that didn't have a serpent hidden in it. Nor encountered a person, no matter how gifted, who at some point did not have just cause to bemoan her fate.

As I think back on the day of that sea battle, I strongly suspect the halls of the gods were ringing with laughter at ourplight. Once again, they granted Orissa victory. But once again, that banner was hoisted on a fouled stick.

Our losses were frightening: many were dead, and the cries of our wounded echoed across the hissing seas; our fleet of fifteen had been reduced to nine, of which two were so damaged they would soon follow the others into the depths if not repaired. The only real luck that day was nearly all of my women survived the fight unscathed. But those I lost, I mourned deeply, and their absence, as well as Gamelan's, weighed heavily. But there was no time for mourning, nor for the dead, not yet.

In spite of the still-heaving seas, I had a longboat lowered, and told Stryker to detail his best seamen to row me across to the flagship. I needed to talk to Cholla Yi, and not by signal flag or speaking trumpet. I also took Corais and Polillo with me.

The mercenary was sombre when I entered his cabin, but after I'd assured him Orissa would bear the cost of replacing his lost
ships, his mood lightened greatl
y. When I offered condolences for his own dead, he shrugged it off. 'Don't let them trouble your sleep, Captain,' he said. 'They
certainly won't trouble mine. They knew the odds when they signed the papers. Besides, they're nothing but kelp scum, and easily replaced when we return to friendlier seas, and our own share of the spoils will be greater.'

Polillo growled at such disrespect. She'd despised them all, and had even broken the head of one man who'd ogled her too openly. Still, by Polillo's code, they were fellow warriors just the same, and deserved more from their master. My own thoughts ran along similar lines, so I did not admonish her.

I was also vaguely uneasy because I felt Cholla Yi had reacted with barely hidden displeasure when I first boarded his galley. It was as if he were surprised that I'd survived the battle. I reminded myself not to be foolish and let my dislike for the man read emotions onto his scarred face. Of course, Cholla Yi would have held a banquet if I fell and broke my neck when we were safely back in Orissa, but on these strange seas every sword counted as ten, and he was no more likely to indulge his petty hatreds than I.

Corais filled the gap: 'You talk of our return as if it were as easy as polishing new steel.' She pointed at the chart unrolled on the table. 'We don't even know where we are. We've sailed off the great chart, and even that rough map Gamelan had, in case you haven't noticed.'

'It's not so difficult as all that,' he replied, giving Phocas a wink at the foolish question. 'We'll sort it out once we're back on the other side of the reef.'

Corais smiled back, but it was a thin smile and I saw a glint in her eye hard enough to sharpen a dirk.

I looked through Cholla Yi's big stern window at the black reefs studded with growling volcanoes. From the deck, they'd seemed to stretch for ever both to our north and south.

'I suppose they
must
end at some point,' I said. 'The question is, which direction will get us there the quickest?'

'Too bad the wizard's not with us,' Phocas said. 'We could get him to cast the bones.'

I wished Gamelan was at our side for more reasons than that. When I'd seen him lying on the deck, blood streaming down his still face, I'd suffered a deep hurt, almost as if I'd lost one of my own. He'd become a good friend in a very brief time, and I knew I'd miss his company, even if he had nagged me about my supposed magical birthright. The sailors responsible for gathering the dead for burial had refused to
touch his body. They feared the wizard even in death. I'd ordered him placed in his littie cabin until we had time to prepare his corpse for proper purification and funeral ceremonies worthy of the greatest of Orissa's Evocators.

His death-rites should've lasted for weeks, with an entire city in mourning and the Palace of the Evocators darkened, and the skies themselves cast with a magical darkness. Whomever the Evocators' Guild would've named as his replacement, after long and solemn conclave, would've officiated at the ceremonies, and eulogies would be given by all the Magistrates and leading citizens. A square or a boulevard would've been given his name and herds of cattle and perhaps even a human soul or two, possibly a grief-stricken volunteer, would've been sacrificed. But out here, many unknown leagues from Orissa, we would do the best we could, when there was time. I planned to slip him over the side myself.

Cholla Yi's scoffing reply broke through: 'We don't need a wizard to choose,' he said. 'Either will do. What's a few days, one way or the other?'

He fished a gold coin out of his pocket. It was from Irayas, with the head of King Domas engraved on one side, and the serpent-and-sun symbol on the other. I wondered how the thief came by such a rare coin.

'Let's let the tavern gods decide,' he said. 'If it falls kings, we go north. Snakes is south.'

I merely nodded. But as he tossed the coin and it spun upward, King Domas's image leaped into my mind. North. We should strike north. The coin rang against the table and I looked to see the serpent side lying face up.

'South it is then,' Cholla Yi said.

I almost told him - No! We
must
strike north. I prickled all over with the need for the telling.

Then the prickling vanished, leaving me feeling confused and foolish.

'Very well,' I said.

With that, I sealed our fate.

So we sailed south. The chain of reefs was unrelenting, mile after mile of jagged rock ridged with endless volcanoes. Many of them were active, spewing smoke and lava that poured down the sides and set the seas to boiling. At one place, dead fish by the thousand floated bellyup. Swarms of birds circled and cried out in delight at the fresh meat. The wind shifted, carrying with it a dense cloud of smoke from one of the volcanoes. As the birds passed through it, I was shocked to see them plummet from the sky. Then the acrid fumes washed over us. The stench was so poisonous many of us fell retching to the deck. Gasped orders sent us pulling away, but I tell you, Scribe, the rowers were so overcome that we barely moved. And if the wind hadn't shifted at that moment, I doubt I'd be here at this moment boring you with my adventures.

When we reached what we thought to be a safe distance, we hove to, so we could recover. My skull was pounding, and every bone in my body felt as if I had been wrung by a giant. I gulped sweet, tangy air until my head spun; but it soon did its job and I felt cleansed.

As I turned to see how the others fared, I heard a voice cry out: 'Get away from me, you fool!' It was Gamelan! But wasn't he dead? 'By Te-Date, I swear I'll turn you into a frog! And your mother and father will be frogs as well!'

I rushed below in time to see a wizened little fellow with a scar the size of my palm dash out of Gamelan's quarters. I ignored him, and ran inside.

Gamelan was sitting up, ripping at the white cotton cloth that had been wound about him. He looked up when he heard me enter. 'Another thief,' he cried. 'Good. I'll make you a heron and you can eat that other man and his kin. Then I'll conjure a demon to strip your feathers for arrows and flay your skin for his quiver.'

'You're alive!' I cried.

'Of course I'm alive,' the wizard grumbled, tugging at the burial cloth. 'Now, if you'll be so good as to light a lamp so I can see whom I'm cursing, I'll reward you by putting you out of your misery as quickly as possible.'

I didn't answer. I could only stare at those great wide eyes. Instead of fiery yellow, they were washed-out and vacant. He turned his head this way and that, but his eyes would not focus on anything. I knelt by his side.

Gamelan sniffed the air. 'Rali?' He'd smelled my perfume. He reached out a hand, quite tentative, and it touched my breast. I did not push it away.

'Yes, my friend,' I said. 'It's Rali.'

He blushed, realizing where his hand had fallen, and snatched it away. 'I'm sorry,' he said. 'But it's so dark in here. Get them to light a few lamps, will you, Rali? There's a good woman.' 'It's midday,' I said, as softly as I could.

Gamelan grew still. A wrinkled hand lifted slowly to his brow. He shuddered. I gripped his bony shoulder. His face grew stony. Then he smiled and patted my hand.

'I'm
blind,' he said, matter-of-factl
y.

'Yes,' I said.

'Then I'm no good for you,' he said. 'I've only known one blind wizard, and he was stricken quite young. And he had his whole life to learn to cast spells without sight to aid him.'

'It won't take so long,' I said. 'You're a master wizard, after all.'

The silence was very long this time. I could sense Gamelan pulling himself together, reaching deep for strength. When he finally spoke, his tone was almost normal, as if he'd accepted his terrible mutilation, both of body, s
oul and Talent as matter-of-fact
ly as the bravest soldier. He sighed. 'No, I'm just an ordinary old man now. And please don't think I'm wading in self-pity. I know my limitations. I pushed them as far as I could many years ago.'

'We'll be home soon,' I said. 'You'll have acolytes by the score to assist you.'

The wizard shifted his head this way and that. His tongue flickered out - surprisingly youthful and pink - and tasted the air. 'We're lost,' he said.

'Nothing to fear,' I said. 'We've only to get around that confounded reef. We'll find our way in no time.'

Gamelan shook his head. 'I may be blind,' he said, 'but my wits are keen enough to know it won't be so easy.'

'The gods only make things easy,' I said, 'when they are preparing the way for your fall.'

Gamelan laughed. It was good to hear. It almost made him seem whole again. He said: 'Then we'll take my misfortune - and the misfortune of all the others - as a good omen.'

He yawned. Gentl
y, I pushed him back into his bed. He did not resist. I found a cover for him and tucked it around him, and under his chin.

'Don't let me sleep too long,' he said. 'We have much to talk about.' 'I won't,' I promised, dreading the prospect of what I knew he was going to ask of me.

As I was about to go out, he said: 'Rali?' 'Yes?'

Gamelan turned his blind face towards me. He said: 'You must have made your father proud. I didn't know how to answer, so I just shut the door.

That night I dreamed of Tries. It was the same dream as before. We made love, but this time my passion was hot spiced with fear of what I knew the dream demon would bring next. The Archon came again. My nakedness was mocked. I awoke to dream within the dream and found Tries ready to betray me once more. We struggled. I felt the pin-prick of her silver dirk. Then I found myself trembling in my hammock, eyes shut against new dreams, praying the nightmare was done.

There came a hammering. I heard Polillo curse, and the creak of ropes as Corais rolled out of her hammock and went to see what was happening. Still I did not open my eyes, because I did not trust what they might find. I felt the burn of scored flesh where Tries's dirk had entered. I heard a tumble of confusion and then Gamelan's voice.

'Rali!' he shouted. 'Rali!'

I opened my eyes. The wizard stood over me. His flesh was scratched and bleeding from finding his way across the deck from his cabin.

I swung up from the hammock.

'Yes, my friend? What is it?'

'It's the Archon!' Gamelan said. 'He's still with us!'

'I know,' I said.

I felt cold, empty.

'Do you hear me, Rali?' Gamelan cried. 'It's not over yet!'

'I hear you, wizard,' I answered. 'I hear you.'

Far out in the night, I heard a young sea lizard bellow for its mother.