Savage Messiah dobas-1

by Robert Newcomb

  "I find that curious," he added with a smile. "After our first encounter, I would have thought him eager to meet me again. And someone is cloaking Shailiha's blood-either Wigg or Faegan, no doubt. They think that they can hide it from me, but they can't. The enemy fleet must be out there. They're coming fast."

  He turned to look at Merriwhether. "Signal the other Black Ships," he ordered, "and alert them to the situation. For now, I want them to maintain this formation. Unless I miss my guess, the enemy will try to surround us. When I give the order, I want the other Black Ships to follow our actions to the letter. It is not my intent to crush the enemy fleet. Our primary goal remains to break through their lines and reach the coast intact. But if we can send a few of them to the bottom, so be it."

  "Yes, my lord," Merriwhether answered. "But there is something that I don't understand. If you were unable to detect Shailiha's blood at the Citadel, how is it that you can sense it now-especially if it is cloaked as it was before?"

  Wulfgar smiled. "Because I also sense lesser endowed blood out there," he answered. "The wizards are trying to cloak all of it at the same time, and it is taxing their meager gifts. That means that there are also Acolytes of the Redoubt aboard at least some of the enemy vessels. There are, without question, hosts of Minion warriors with them as well. I expected as much. They are throwing everything at us that they dare, while also keeping a suitable force in reserve at the palace. Even so, that will not be enough."

  Wulfgar gave Merriwhether a hard glare. "Now stop questioning me and go and carry out your orders."

  With a slight bow, the captain hurried away.

  Wulfgar turned back to look westward. He would land his troops and Earthshakers on Eutracian soil this night, no matter the cost. And then he could begin the all-important journey to the Tolenkas, just as the Heretics had ordered him to do. As the northern half of her fleet sailed up the coast, Tyranny searched the sea with her spyglass. She could see nothing but empty ocean.

  She stood in the stern, next to the ship's wheel. Scars manned the wheel and Shailiha stood by his side. Duvessa had gone off to assemble her female warriors, and Tyranny had ordered Adrian into the crow's nest to use her heightened senses to search for the Enseterat's fleet. The assembled Minion warriors aboard the Reprise were spoiling for a fight. K'jarr stood before them, ready to follow Tyranny's orders at a moment's notice.

  Collapsing her spyglass, the privateer took a deep breath. The thirty-one vessels to her south were long gone by now, and they would soon be altering course to help intercept Wulfgar's Black Ships. At this point, she could only hope that she had done the right thing in dividing her fleet.

  She was about to speak to the princess when another peal came from the warning bell in the crow's nest.

  "I see them!" Adrian called down.

  "Where away?" Tyranny shouted back.

  Adrian pointed an arm out over the waves. "North by northeast and closing fast!" she answered. "Less than half a league away!"

  Tyranny turned and raised her glass. At first she saw nothing. She twisted the cylinders to bring the image into better focus. Suddenly, there they were.

  Seven huge moonlit forms flew eerily just above sea, closing in on her position with a speed that she couldn't match. Even at this distance their size was spectacular. She was glad to see that they were sailing in an arrowhead formation. They would be easier to surround, she thought. Perhaps her plan to stop Wulfgar here and now might work after all.

  "Steer north by northeast!" she ordered Scars. As the giant spun the wheel, Tyranny called for K'jarr. He was by her side in a flash.

  "Send thirty of your fastest messengers to each of our other vessels," she ordered him. "When they see Reprise turn due east, they are to do the same. Once our line has formed east to west we will turn due south, to trap the Black Ships against the other half of our fleet. Then the circle will close."

  Worry crowded her face. "Go now. We have no time to lose!"

  As K'jarr ran off to follow his orders, Tyranny stabbed another cigarillo between her lips and lit it. She raised the spyglass to her eye once more. This time the Black Ships seemed much larger, and she could almost make out their skeletal captains in their bows. Their course remained unchanged.

  "Yes, that's right," she whispered, as she looked though the glass. "Keep on coming, you dark bastards. Soon you'll all know the sharp, unmistakable kiss of Minion dreggans." Unlike Tyranny, the Enseterat had no need of a spyglass. Enhancing his vision with the craft, he could easily see both the northern and southern lines of the enemy fleet as they advanced on his position. Soon they would close their circle and be upon him. Perfect, he thought.

  "Your orders, my lord?" Merriwhether asked.

  Smiling, Wulfgar shook his head. "The other captains of the Black Ships have been commanded to do exactly as we do, isn't that right?" he asked.

  Merriwhether nodded.

  "Then I have no additional orders," Wulfgar said softly. "Watch and learn."

  The two lines of Tyranny's fleet started to close. Hundreds of Minion warriors launched themselves into the air from the enemy decks.

  "Their warriors will to try to board us," Wulfgar said calmly. "Make sure the demonslavers are ready to welcome them."

  When the first Minions arrived, they were met by rows upon rows of battle-hungry demonslavers banging their weapons against their shields. The rising cacophony was deafening.

  Wulfgar turned to Merriwhether and nodded. Then, slowly-almost lazily-the Enseterat and his dark servant raised their arms and began blasting Minion warriors from the nighttime sky. When Tyranny saw the gleaming azure bolts streaking though the darkness, her heart skipped a beat. The nightmare they had feared was quickly coming to pass: Wulfgar wasn't their only enemy to command the craft. His skeletal captains did as well-and that could spell disaster.

  Faegan had warned them of this possibility, and yet he had refused to come along, insisting that he stay deep in the Redoubt with Jessamay to continue their research. As Tyranny looked through her glass at the carnage, her blood began to boil.

  Damn your eyes, Faegan! she thought. We need you now!

  As the Black Ships approached, Minion warriors were blasted from the sky in staggering numbers. For each one who fought his or her way down to the enemy decks, four or five more burst apart in midair. Others were burned so badly that they crashed helplessly into the sea. As Tyranny looked down at the water, she felt her stomach turn. The sea had turned from black to red in the moonlight.

  Looking up at the crow's nest, Tyranny was about to shout an order to Sister Adrian but the acolyte acted first. Twin beams shot from Adrian's hands toward the first of the Black Ships. The acolytes aboard Tyranny's other ships followed suit. The night sky turned bright as day.

  The privateer and the princess held their breath as literally hundreds of the sisters' bolts screamed across the waves. Surely nothing can stand up to that, Tyranny thought.

  But to her horror, as the azure bolts struck the Black Ships they flattened out and fell away, sizzling harmlessly into the sea-almost as if the enemy vessels wore some kind of endowed armor. Over and over again the acolytes tried, but each time it was the same. The Black Ships were so close now that Tyranny and Shailiha could see their skeletal captains without the use of the spyglass.

  Tyranny's ring of ships continued to tighten around Wulfgar's small fleet, but even with their huge advantage in numbers, the Minions failed to take control of the enemy decks. The acolytes' use of the craft seemed little more than pinpricks against the onrushing Black Ships.

  Her face grim, Tyranny looked over at Shailiha. The princess immediately understood. Both women drew their swords.

  Tyranny turned to K'jarr. "Prepare to board the enemy vessels!" she shouted. "Gangplanks and grappling hooks at the ready!"

  She looked out across the sea. Even without her glass, she could see the other half of her fleet taking a line on the port sides of Wulfgar's vessels. There was no going back now. She turned to
Scars.

  "Steer due south-hard to starboard!" she shouted.

  With a massive groan, the Reprise came over hard, the vessels following her quickly doing the same. Tyranny saw her southern line of ships come to port and head north. She knew that in mere moments her vise would tighten its grip, and both lines of her fleet would be near enough to try to board the Black Ships.

  As Tyranny's fleet closed, she watched with dread as Wulfgar, in the bow of the lead vessel, raised his hands.

  The Black Ships rose higher into the air and their speed increased dramatically. The western ends of Tyranny's two rows of ships finally closed ranks, but to no avail: hulls gleaming in the moonlight, the seven incredible vessels literally flew over the mast tops of Tyranny's fleet.

  As they soared overhead they blotted out the moonlight. Tyranny and Shailiha could do nothing but stand there and watch the spectacle in awestruck wonder.

  Then, standing by the enemy gunwales, Wulfgar and his captains cast azure bolt after azure bolt down upon the westernmost vessels of Tyranny's fleet. The bolts tore though the ships' riggings, masts, decks, and hulls. Decks exploded, crewmen and warriors were launched into the air, and thick, choking smoke started to blanket everything.

  The stricken ships immediately burst into flames. Crewmen and Minions jumped overboard to quench the flames that burned them. At least a third of Tyranny's fleet was ablaze. The privateer watched, aghast, as ship after ship disappeared beneath the waves. Determined Minions continued to hurl themselves against the Black Ships. But between the demonslavers and the azure bolts, the warriors died quickly.

  Tyranny looked frantically down the deck of her flagship. The Reprise had been hit at least twice-once in the stern and once amidships. Both areas blazed, and much of the ship's rigging was gone. Pandemonium reigned as the warriors and crewmen desperately tried to save the beleaguered ship. Then came a terrible cracking sound.

  With a tortured groan, the entire mainmast and all of her accompanying sails crashed to the deck. The mast bounced once and then split in two, crushing crewmen and warriors to death beneath its weight. The crow's nest and the top half of the mast exploded against the gunwale, to lie awkwardly over the side and droop toward the sea. Sister Adrian was nowhere to be seen.

  Tyranny raised her spyglass to the sky. In the darkness she could just make out the hulls of the fleeing Black Ships. They were on course in the exact direction Faegan had predicted they would go. They would anchor just offshore in the great bay that lay directly east of the pass through the Tolenkas. From there Wulfgar and his forces would march west.

  Tired and beaten, the privateer and the princess looked out over what remained of their smashed fleet. Fire and smoke ruled the waves as still more of their vessels went down. The remaining ships hurried to help those in need. The water was crowded with Minion dead and dying, but there were very few demonslaver corpses to be seen. Tyranny ordered Scars to search for Sister Adrian.

  The privateer sheathed her sword. The crew worked to bring the fires aboard her flagship under control, but it would be many days before the Reprise could be made seaworthy again. Tyranny looked back up to the spot in the sky where the Black Ships had disappeared. Some of the surviving warriors were chasing after them, but she knew that they would never be able to catch up.

  A third of my fleet is either lost or disabled, she thought, and slammed a fist against the gunwale. Not to mention the crewmen and warriors I've lost. And for what, she wondered. In the end, what had been the point?

  Looking west to the coast, Tyranny hung her head.

  CHAPTER LXXII

  As Tristan sat before the campfire, he absentmindedly poked at its blazing logs with a dry stick. His dreggan and throwing knives lay in the grass beside him. The fire was comforting, and the nighttime sky was full of stars. It would be a pleasant night for sleeping, he thought.

  Two tents sat in the center of the clearing by the road. One belonged to Tristan and Celeste, the other to Wigg. The tents surrounding them were Minion quarters. The horses were picketed nearby.

  Wigg, Celeste, and Ox sat there with Tristan, their faces highlighted by the fire. They had been traveling for three days now. That morning Wigg had told them that the pull from the River of Thought was growing ever stronger. He guessed that they would reach the Well of Forestallments in one more day, two at the most.

  More than once the anxious wizard had tried to gallop ahead to test Adrian's warning that if he went too fast, he would outrun the effects of the spell. Sure enough, each time he tried, he quickly lost the sensation-only to have it return when he slowed down again. The necessarily slow pace of the journey did nothing to improve Wigg's mood. Like Tristan, he sensed Celeste's life quickly ebbing away, and his frustration and anger grew by the moment.

  The remains of their roast venison dinner lay nearby. The Minions were good cooks, and Tristan shared their love of rare meat. Over the course of the trip the prince had begun to develop a taste for akulee, even though it was much harder on his head than the ale or wine he was used to.

  After a good bit of cajoling, he had even managed to get the wizard to try some. Against his better judgment, Wigg had cautiously taken a sip. Then his face screwed up and he spat it out. Over the last three hundred years he had become accustomed to the best wine the palace cellars had to offer. After wiping his mouth on his sleeve, the First Wizard had proclaimed akulee to be the vilest concoction ever created. Tristan and Celeste had laughed at him, and the rare, comic interlude had done them all good.

  Tristan looked over at Wigg. The wizard's hands were shoved into the opposite sleeves of his robe. The Paragon hung about his neck, firelight dancing in its bloodred facets. Lost in his thoughts, he stared into the fire.

  "Can we beat him?" Tristan asked.

  Everyone understood all too well that he referred to his half brother, Wulfgar. Celeste laid her head upon her husband's shoulder.

  Wigg sighed. "Who knows?" he answered. "Maybe-but only if we can find the Well, if it exists at all. And then we must convince this Scroll Master to help us. But I would be lying to you if I said that the odds against us weren't long. And I fear that our time grows short."

  He looked over at Celeste, his face rueful. "I'm sorry, my child," he said. "How are you feeling?"

  As Celeste gathered her shawl about her, Tristan pulled her closer. He felt her shiver.

  "I'm all right, Father," she answered. "Really I am." Looking up into Tristan's face, she smiled. "The two of you worry about me too much."

  She's lying, Wigg thought. Just the same, he loved her for it, and his heart was breaking.

  During the last two days Celeste's movements had become noticeably stiffer and her limp more pronounced. Her hair was grayer and she had lost even more weight. Using the craft, Wigg did all he could to ease her pain, but even he had been only partially successful. Yesterday's examination of her blood signature revealed that even more of it had vanished.

  It killed him to see his only child wasting away before his eyes. Before long, she would look as old as he did. And he knew that Tristan was hurting for her just as much as he was, perhaps even more.

  Wigg turned his craggy face back to the fire. We simply have to reach the Scroll Master in time, he thought. So much depends upon it.

  He stood and brushed the loose grass from his robe. "I will be retiring," he announced. "I hope you sleep well."

  The others bid him good night.

  Celeste looked up at Tristan again. "I'm also tired, my love" she said. She stood with difficulty. "Are you coming?"

  "In a little while," he answered. "It's a beautiful night. I'd like to sit by the fire with Ox for a while longer."

  Celeste smiled. "I had almost forgotten how much you love being outdoors," she said. She looked over at Ox. "Goodnight," she said.

  The warrior gave her a short smile. "Ox say goodnight, too," he answered.

  Tristan watched her enter their tent, then turned back to the fire. Silence reigned between him and t
he warrior for a time.

  "The wizard be very worried," Ox said. "Ox worried, too. We reach Well tomorrow, Ox hope. I no want see Wigg's daughter die."

  Ever since the episode at the Gates of Dawn, Ox had considered Tristan his personal charge. During their first conflict with Wulfgar, he had come to feel the same way about Celeste and Shailiha. When he had learned that Tristan and Celeste had married, in his happiness he had consumed an entire jug of akulee by himself. Despite his great size, his head had hurt for the next two days.

  "I know, my friend," Tristan answered. "I know."

  Ox handed the akulee jug to the prince. As the tree frogs sang and the fire snapped, Tristan took another slow, welcome drink. nestled securely in the branch of a tree, a figure dressed in black leather watched the campsite. Satine had been forced to slither toward the tree very slowly. More than once, Minion patrols had nearly spotted her.

  She took up the small spyglass that hung from a leather cord at her hip. Before she had begun the night's surveillance, she had carefully rubbed the instrument with dirt so that it would not shine in the moonlight. She had done the same to her face and hands. She lifted the glass to one eye, extended it, and twisted it.

  The magnifying lenses brought everything into sharp relief. This was the second time tonight that she had viewed the campsite through the glass. The first time, she had watched her targets eating. Now she watched as the prince, the wizard, and his daughter finally retired, leaving a giant Minion guard alone by the dwindling fire.

  Shifting her position in the tree, Satine stretched her back and lowered the glass. It would be a long night, but if she could just catch one of them away from the campsite, she would be that much closer to completing her sanctions. If the warriors continued to fly over the road tomorrow, she could sleep briefly in her saddle.

  She looked up at the three moons. It occurred to her that they beamed down upon not only her and her targets, but also upon Aeolus, Shamus, and Evelyn. The three moons bind us together in a way, she thought.