The King's Buccaneer

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The King's Buccaneer Page 33

by Raymond E. Feist


  Nicholas looked upward and saw that the sun was now fully hidden from the face of the cliffs. He nodded and crossed to the cave mouth. “Marcus, Calis. It’s time.”

  Calis nimbly jumped up and gathered a long coil of rope, and tied it firmly into a large loop. Then he slipped one arm and his head through the coil. Marcus and Nicholas did the same. When all three were at the top, they’d tie the three coils together and lower the rope down, providing an easier way upward. Harry came to Nicholas and said, “I wish you’d let me go instead.”

  Nicholas grinned. “You?” Putting his hand on his friend’s shoulder, he said, “I thank you, but I’m not the one whose hands grow clammy standing on the rampart of the castle, remember? You never did care for heights.”

  “I know, but if one of us is going to fall—”

  “No one is going to fall.”

  Nicholas walked past his friend, into the cave mouth. To the sailors gathered he said, “We should be at the top before sundown. We’ll lower the rope and you can start climbing.” To Amos he said, “You judge the order of the climb and who is to help those less able. If we can, I want every man up there by nightfall.”

  Amos nodded, but they both knew it was an impossible request. One of the sailors hobbled forward, his leg swollen from a broken ankle. The man’s face was ashen with pain, but he gamely said, “I’ll make sure as many make the climb as can, Highness.”

  Nicholas nodded and moved toward the cave. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Amos hand the man his own dagger and he quickly turned away. He knew why the man had asked for the weapon. Hunger and thirst were not clean ways to die.

  Nicholas climbed up on the narrow trail and moved to the base of the chimney, where Calis and Marcus waited. Harry followed after. Calis said, “I will go first, since I am the most experienced. Marcus, you come next. Nicholas, watch clearly where we place our hands and feet. Something that looks solid may not be; there are cracks in the stone behind which water gathers. If it freezes, it weakens the rocks. Test each hand- and foothold before trusting it with your full weight. If you become fatigued or get into trouble, say something. We are not in a hurry.”

  Nicholas nodded, relieved the elfling had taken charge. This was not a time to dwell upon rank. He turned to Harry and said, “When we drop the rope, call for the others to begin climbing.” He put his hand on Harry’s shoulder and whispered, “And make sure Amos comes before you. If you have to hit him over the head with a rock and we have to haul him up the cliff, don’t let him stay behind with the wounded.”

  Harry nodded.

  Calis placed his hands on a small outcropping of stone and pulled himself upward, bracing his legs on either side of the chimney. Reaching out to the opposite side of the fissure, he found another handhold and moved upward. Marcus and Nicholas both watched closely, and when Calis was ten feet up the chimney, Marcus began his ascent.

  Nicholas watched his cousin, and when he had enough height, the Prince reached up and placed his hands where the others had. He felt sudden panic, as there wasn’t much to grip. For an instant he hesitated, then he pulled himself upward, putting his feet where he had seen the others place theirs. A dull ache struck his left foot and he swore softly, “Not now, damn it!”

  Marcus looked down. “What is it?”

  “Nothing,” answered Nicholas. He turned his mind away from his balky foot and stared up, surprised at how deep the gloom in the chimney was against the bright sky. Willing himself to see Calis and Marcus, he watched how they moved. He reached across the chimney and put his hand upon the opposite face and pulled himself upward.

  Like three insects climbing a wall, they inched their way up the rocks.

  —

  TIME BLURRED. FOR Nicholas it became a series of pauses, watching those ahead, then moving up a little at a time. Three times Calis called down warnings of possible weak purchase along the way, and once his foot slipped, sending small rocks cascading down upon Marcus and Nicholas.

  Several times Nicholas halted to catch his breath, but he found that most of the time moving was no more demanding on his arms and legs than hanging motionless. He was tired, but he simply focused his mind on the task of putting one hand higher than the other, of moving a foot, securing it, and pushing himself up a little bit higher.

  Once he looked down and was surprised to discover that they had come only a third of the way up the cliff from the path. He decided to avoid that, as the disappointment that struck him was accompanied by a stab of pain in his left foot.

  Despite his being in the shadows, the heat caused sweat to run down his face, blinding him momentarily when he looked up. He wiped his eyes upon his shoulder several times, and cursed the need.

  Time passed as he struggled to keep up with Calis and Marcus. Each passing hour brought them closer to the top, but when he had begun to feel optimistic he heard Calis say, “We have a problem.”

  Nicholas looked up, but couldn’t clearly see the elfling past his cousin. “What?” he called.

  “The chimney widens here.”

  “What do we do?” asked Nicholas.

  “This is tricky. When you get here, you’ll see that the left side tapers up and away. It looks like you only need to extend out a little to reach it, but it’s dangerous. Better to back down a little, swing both feet to that side, and propel yourself up with your back on the right side, feet on the left. Do you understand?”

  Nicholas said, “I think so. I’ll watch Marcus.”

  Marcus remained motionless for what seemed a long time, and Nicholas felt his arms and legs starting to knot as he held the same position without moving. He felt a stab of panic as his left hand began to slip upon the face of the rock, then he gripped harder. Breathing deeply, to become calm, he told himself, “Don’t let your concentration lapse.”

  Time dragged on, and Nicholas felt small cramps and aches and knew that he had never been so tired before, when suddenly Marcus said, “Calis has cleared the wide spot.”

  Nicholas watched as his cousin climbed another ten feet or so, then swung his right leg and planted it firmly on the left face, his back against the right. Bracing himself with one leg, he’d lift the other, then use his hands against the rocks to raise his body to the new height. The progress was slow, but to Nicholas it didn’t look too difficult. A small voice warned, Don’t take anything for granted.

  When he reached the point where Marcus had turned, he suddenly felt a hot stab in his left foot. “Damn,” he said softly as he attempted to put his weight upon it. His left leg trembled and he had to shut his eyes to concentrate on keeping pressure on the foot. His every instinct was to pull back, but he willed himself to continue. Then his right foot was firm against the opposite wall and he withdrew pressure from his left. Taking a deep breath, he glanced up.

  Marcus was now shifting back to his original position, when suddenly his left foot slipped. He cried out as he scrambled to find a grip, and suddenly he was hanging by his hands from a tiny ridge of stone, his feet scrambling for purchase on the smooth rock face.

  Nicholas felt a stab of panic through his stomach and shouted, “Hang on!” He forced his aching legs and knotted back to obey as he muscled his way up the chimney.

  Marcus shouted, “Get back! If…I fall…I’ll hit you.” From the gasps between each word, Nicholas could tell that he was struggling heroically just to keep his handholds.

  Nicholas ignored the warning and forced himself to a reckless pace. He blinked against dirt and gravel that rained down upon him as he moved closer to Marcus. He could see nothing of Calis.

  Reaching a point below Marcus’s dangling feet, he shouted, “Hold still a moment!”

  Marcus hung there silently, while Nicholas shimmied up below him. Gently he put one hand upon Marcus’s boot and said, “Don’t kick me, or we’ll both fall.” He resisted the almost instinctive urge to grip the boot before his face.

  Wedging himself as firmly into place as he could, Nicholas put his hand under Marcus’s right foot.
“Push down slowly!” he shouted.

  Marcus put his weight upon his cousin’s hand. Nicholas grimaced at the effort, feeling his shoulders burn from the effort as the skin beneath his tunic was scraped raw by the stone. His legs trembled and his left foot burned as if on fire, but he held firm as Marcus pushed down.

  Nicholas found himself taking shallow, rapid breaths and forced himself to breathe deeply. Tears ran down his face from the pain in his back and legs, but he held himself as taut as a bowstring, as rigid as an iron rod, for he knew that to relent in his concentration for an instant would cost both Marcus and himself their lives.

  Then suddenly the weight was gone and Marcus was again moving upward. Nicholas wished to the gods he could relax, but he knew he was in the most perilous position he had been so far in the climb. He needed to lower himself down slightly, then start upward again.

  With burning shoulders and legs, Nicholas felt himself slide down a few inches, and suddenly he knew he was wedged in. “Ah…Calis!” he called.

  “What?” came the question from above.

  “I’ve got a small problem.”

  “What?” asked Marcus, looking down.

  “I’ve let my feet get above my shoulders. I can’t lower my feet, and I can’t get enough push to get my shoulders higher.”

  “Don’t move,” shouted the elfling. “I’m almost at the top!”

  Nicholas knew that once Calis was up there he could lower the rope and pull him up. All he had to do was hold tight.

  Seconds slowed and passed before Nicholas’s mind’s eye like a parade of snails upon the garden path. He forced himself to look at the unforgiving rock face opposite him, for he knew that if he looked down he might fall.

  He felt panic start to rise, and his left foot now throbbed as badly as when it had been injured back at Crydee. He wanted to flex his calf to remove some of the discomfort, but couldn’t without slipping. He closed his eyes and turned his mind to Abigail.

  He remembered sitting in the garden with her, that last night, and he remembered the swell of her bosom against the gown she wore, the ringlets of her hair, golden with highlights from the torches on the wall. She smelled of summer blossoms and spice, and her eyes had been enormous pools of blue. He relived the moment of their first kiss and could feel her full lips upon his. He had to get to the top of the cliff, he told himself. If he ever hoped to see Abigail again, he must not let himself fall.

  Suddenly he felt something slap him in the face as a voice shouted, “Tie it around your waist!”

  Nicholas opened his eyes to see a rope before him and he reached for it with his left hand. He pulled; more line was fed out to him, and he snaked it around his waist. Pushing his shoulders hard against the rocks, ignoring the pain of torn skin and burning muscles, he reached below and found the rope with his right hand. He pulled it up and around and awkwardly tied it about his middle. “I don’t know if it will hold.”

  “It’s not far. Just grip tight with both hands.”

  He gripped the rope with his right hand and shouted, “Ready?”

  “Ready,” came the answer.

  He let go with his left hand, grabbing the rope as his feet lost purchase on the opposite wall. Suddenly he was hanging from the rope, twisting as he felt it slip around his waist. He swung into the rocks, bruising his face. The rope seemed to hold, and he shouted, “Pull!”

  Faster than he had thought possible, he rose, scraping every exposed inch of skin on unyielding rock. Then he was at the rim of the cliff, and saw two large brown eyes staring down at him.

  The goat gave a surprised bleat and scampered away as Nicholas was dragged up and over the edge of the cliff. He let himself be pulled away from the brink, rolled over on his back, and stared at the blue sky. Then he tried to sit up. Every muscle in his stomach and back clenched in spasm and he cried out in pain.

  “Don’t move,” cautioned Marcus. “Just lie there and rest.”

  Nicholas turned his head and saw Calis standing a short distance away, putting down the rope. “He pulled me up by himself?”

  Marcus nodded. “He’s a lot stronger than I thought.”

  Calis said, “I have unusual parents.” Without further comment, he took Marcus’s rope and tied it to the end of his own with a strong knot. He ran it out and re-coiled it until he had inspected each foot for possible frays and damage. Judging it suitable for the task, he said, “I need the other.”

  Marcus helped Nicholas sit up, and while every muscle in his body was agony, he could move. He let Marcus pull the rope off his shoulder, and looked around. They were in a small glade with tough grass growing below odd-looking trees, with bark that grew upward in points like a ring of blades, from the base to the top, some twenty feet or more above their heads. There large broad green leaves grew like giant fans, providing shade. A murmur of water nearby announced the presence of a small spring, and near the edge he saw a small band of goats, including the one who had greeted his arrival.

  Calis went to the edge and shouted down, “Can you hear me?”

  A faint response indicated they could, though Nicholas couldn’t understand the words. He motioned for Marcus to help him to his feet, and when he was standing he said, “I’m glad that’s behind us.”

  Marcus smiled, the first open expression other than hostility Nicholas had ever seen in him. “I’m glad you were behind me,” he said, extending his hand.

  Nicholas shook it. “I’d say it was my pleasure, but I’d be lying.” He stretched his shoulders and commented, “I don’t think there’s an inch of me that doesn’t hurt.”

  Marcus nodded. “I know.”

  “How high did we climb?”

  Marcus said, “Less than three hundred feet, I judge.”

  “I thought it was a couple of miles.”

  “I know the feeling,” said Marcus.

  Calis stood with his feet planted in the ground and said, “I could use some help.”

  Marcus said to Nicholas, “You rest,” and went to hold the rope with Calis.

  After less than five minutes, Brisa’s head appeared above the edge of the rim, and she clambered over. She rose and dusted herself off and smiled at Marcus. “I’ve done a lot of climbing in my day. Made sense for me to come up first. Ghuda’s next.”

  Nicholas hobbled up to stand behind Marcus, and he took a grip on the rope. Even though there were now three others beside him, the little effort he could expend to assist them caused his shoulders and legs to cramp. But he was determined to help, and after a few minutes, Ghuda appeared.

  The large mercenary pulled himself over the edge and stood up at once. He looked at Calis and said, “I’ll spell you.” He took the elfling’s place at the head of the rope and planted his feet. “If we had another hundred feet of rope, we could wrap it around that date palm.”

  “Is that what it is?” said Nicholas, grunting with exertion.

  “Yes. I’ll show you how to climb one if you’d like. Should be dates up there we can eat. It may be fall at home, but it’s spring here.”

  “I don’t think I’ll be wishing to climb anymore today,” Nicholas answered as a sailor climbed over the edge of the cliff. As the sailor got to his feet, Calis said, “Lend a hand.”

  Saying nothing, the sailor came to where Nicholas was and took his place on the rope. Nicholas stumbled to the edge of the pool and knelt, his entire body protesting. He drank deeply. He pulled himself upright and took a deep breath, then looked up. Suddenly the sky turned above him and he fell into a black pit.

  —

  NICHOLAS REGAINED CONSCIOUSNESS in the dark. He saw Harry’s face above him, illuminated by firelight. “How long?” he asked.

  “You passed out a couple of hours ago. Ghuda said to just let you rest.”

  Nicholas sat up and found he was still light-headed and bruised from head to toe, but he didn’t have the horrible cramps that had seized him after letting go of the rope.

  Harry helped him to his feet. Nicholas looked around a
nd saw that a fire had been built in the center of the clearing. Men sat around eating quietly. “Is everyone up here?” asked Nicholas.

  Amos came and said, “All who are going to come.”

  Nicholas counted and found only forty-six in the clearing. “Another eleven?”

  “Six were too ill to climb,” said Amos bitterly. “And the rope parted as the other five were climbing. Night was coming, and they panicked and didn’t wait long enough to let the men before them get up the rope. It could hold three, but not five.”

  Harry said, “Calis and Ghuda lowered the rope as far as they could and I climbed up with the broken part and fastened it with a good knot and I climbed up. I was the last that came.”

  Nicholas said, “Perhaps we can lower some food.”

  Ghuda said, “Come with me.”

  Nicholas glanced at Amos, who nodded. Calis approached and the three walked through a small screen of tough grass, and then into another opening. Nicholas halted.

  Before them the grass stretched out a few dozen paces, then, beyond that, sand. Under the moonlight, sand stretched away as far as the eye could see. Calis said, “The men below are dead. You must accept that. We will need all the food and water we can carry.”

  “How far?” asked Nicholas.

  “I don’t know,” answered Ghuda. I saw it just after the sun set, before it got really dark, but my guess is a three- or four-day crossing. We can hope to find another oasis out there.”

  “There’s something else,” said Calis.

  “What?” asked Nicholas.

  It was Ghuda who answered. “Those goats. Someone left them here. There was a glyph tattooed into the ear of the older ones. The young ones did not have it.” He stroked his grey beard. “I’ve traveled the Jal-Pur. If the desert men leave animals at the oasis, it’s because a particular tribe claims that water. Other tribes leave them alone. It can cause blood feud to take another tribe’s water without its permission.”

  Nicholas said, “You think someone is coming here?”

  “Sooner or later,” said the mercenary. “I don’t know if there are smugglers using the cliffs or if these are just wanderers who don’t like strangers, or why they’d have a herd out here at the edge of the world, but I can promise they’ll not look happily on our having butchered their entire herd. They won’t leave them here long untended, as goats would strip this oasis of every plant in less than a year. That little herd was someone’s food reserve, and they won’t be thrilled by our eating their stores.”

 

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