“Egil!” she screamed. “Trim to starboard now!”
Even as Egil hauled the tiller hard over, a great darkness hulked on the left and—rrrnnnkkk…—the hull ground against wood, the speeding ship shuddering as the dhow juddered the length of its side, Alos shrieking in fear as the surging water lifted both sloop and dhow, the Brise to bang and thud larboard to larboard along the hull of the Rover craft. And in the wind-shadow of the dhow the sloop’s sails suddenly fell slack though she yet had momentum, but just as suddenly they were clear of the Rover and the sails snapped taut again, hurling the Brise toward disaster beyond.
“Larboard, larboard,” cried Arin above the roar of the hammering waves and above Alos’s screams. Again Egil hauled on the tiller, and the Brise responded, and moments later Arin called out, “Now swing starboard a point and square up.”
As the ship flew along its course through fangs and thunder and spray, they could hear loud shouts aft from the scudding dhow, but what the Rovers cried out, none aboard the sloop knew.
“Steady as she goes,” called Arin, as whimpering Alos scrambled on hands and knees back into the cabin.
Past her fangs, past her rocks, past her booming surf, out from the mouth of the serpent they sailed, the Brise battered but seaworthy still. And as they came into clear water at last, dawn broke on the horizon east.
“Bend on all sail but the square,” commanded Egil. “The Rover likely will come after us.”
As the crew restored the jib and gaff topsails and the fore staysail, Arin said, “Dost thou think we can outrun them, chier?”
Egil looked aft, but the mouth of the cove was now beyond sight ’round a shoulder of land behind. “I know not, love, yet we must try.”
* * *
In the dawn light the captain of the dhow swung his ship into the cove, then brought her about through the eye of the wind, heading her back toward the Serpent’s Fangs to pursue the intruder. He glanced at the rocks and then at the growing light of day, and set aside the potion that briefly allowed him to see by starlight alone. He would not need it for this pass. Besides, he did not wish to risk losing his sight altogether.
Once more he commanded his grumbling crew to set the sails for the run, then true northeast he tacked, his ship picking up speed as he trimmed for the striated rock.
Just as the dhow entered the fangs, something hideous and large and skrawing came swooping from the sky. Men shrieked in fear and cowed down against the deck, and some leapt overboard. And with her crew in panic, the dhow veered and crashed in among the rocks, where the waves battered and bashed her to wreckage against the Serpent’s Fangs.
In moments she sank from sight.
And on great dark wings the monstrous thing flapped away into the dawn sky above.
CHAPTER 67
I tell you, Alos, old man, if she hadn’t swept your feet out from under you, you would be dead, bashed overboard by the swinging boom to drown among the rocks.”
Alos glared at Delon, then stuck his nose in the air and sniffed loudly. “Nevertheless, she owes me an apology.”
“Ha!” snapped Ferret. “Apology, my left foot! Instead, you owe her a big thanks for saving your worthless hide.”
“Thanks for nearly breaking my elbow?” Alos ruefully and belatedly rubbed his left arm. “And another thing: I’m not worthless. There’s no better helmsman aboard.”
“Yes, but for how long?” said Delon. “You declared in Sarain that you’d leave us for good once we got free of the cove. Well, now we’re free.”
Alos glared at the bard. “I’m going to leave you when…when”—Alos paused, something deep in his memory nagging at his thoughts, as of a whisper commanding. Alos shook his head, then said, “Unlike before, I’ll not desert my shipmates in their time of need.”
Delon glanced at Ferret, then back to Alos. “Are you earnest?”
“Of course I am,” snapped Alos.
“Then you’ll remain until we get the treasure?” asked Ferret.
Delon cocked an eyebrow at his love. “The time of need will not be past until the Dragonstone is safely delivered to the Mages.”
Ferret looked out to sea and did not reply, and nought but indigo waters met her gaze.
* * *
Kistan lay beyond the horizon some thirty nautical miles to the west, the Brise having sailed directly east and away from the isle for a quarter of a day before turning to run due north on a beam reach. It was now midafternoon, and Alos, Delon, and Ferret crewed, while Egil and Arin and Aiko and Burel slept below. Their plan was to stay well out to sea and away from the isle and its shipping lanes and run parallel to the eastern marge, hoping to avoid any Rovers, Rovers who ordinarily lurked in the straits far to the north and south and running to the west. Once the Brise was free of Kistan some six hundred miles hence, they would head her across the strait, aiming for the coastal waters along the shores of Vancha. From there they would sail to the Weston Ocean, and around Gelen to the Northern Sea, and thence unto the Boreal, for it was on the bounds of those waters where lay their goal: Dragons’ Roost. Their journey would cover nearly nine thousand miles altogether, though tacking and hauling as they must, it would be nearly half again as far. There was, of course, a shorter route, one through the channel ‘tween Gelen and Jute, but given what Aiko had done to Queen Gudrun the Comely, the waters near Jute were too hostile to fare, and so they avoided that risk by choosing the longer route. And given fair winds and tolerable seas, they would come to Dragons’ Roost sometime in the month of May.
* * *
It was not until the change of shifts at the dawn of the following day that they began to consider how they would obtain the Dragonstone.
“Here is what we know,” said Arin. “The stone is in a cavern in a silver chest chained to rock by a pool.”
“The Kraken Pool,” appended Egil.
“Do you suppose that means the treasure is guarded by a Kraken?” asked Ferret.
Egil shrugged. “It would be one Hèl of a warder.”
“Better than a dog,” said Delon, laughing.
“This is no laughing matter,” said Aiko, her tone flat.
Delon raised his hands in surrender, then said, “Indeed not. Besides, the ‘dog’ is on the ledge, guarding the door.”
“Dog?”
“Dragon.”
Aiko shook her head and sighed.
“There is another door,” said Ferret. “The one underwater.”
“But the scroll said you can’t swim against the current, powered as it is by the Great Maelstrom,” said Egil.
“Perhaps Burel could,” said Ferret. “He’s strong.”
Burel shook his head. “I cannot swim. Living in the stone canyons of the labyrinth, I never learned how.”
Arin held up a hand. “Let us assume the scroll speaks true. If so, then the only way to reach the pool is to go past the Dragon.”
“Ha!” barked Alos. “Not likely. He’d snap us up like morsels before you could say thimblerig.”
“We could slip past,” said Ferret.
“No you can’t,” declared Alos. “Dragons know when someone is in their domain.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Why, it’s common knowledge,” replied Alos, glaring at Ferret. “Everybody knows that.”
“I didn’t know,” rumbled Burel.
Arin held up her hands. “Peace, my friends. Let us not get into an argument over the powers of Drakes.” She glanced from one to the other, and then said, “Even so, if we do have to win past the Dragon, let us review all we know of them. Mayhap therein we will find an answer to our dilemma.”
Alos sniffed and jutted out his chin.
Arin sighed, then said, “This I know of Drakes: they ward the ledge at Dragons’ Roost; they sleep four thousand seasons and wake for eight thousand; they are terrible when they raid, though their forays for the most part are to take livestock on which they feed; because of their foraging needs, they live isolated and far from one another
and seldom gather but for the time of the mating with Krakens in the Great Maelstrom once every three millennia; the get of these matings are Sea Serpents, which, when their time comes, go to the deeps and enshell in chrysalides, which, when hatched, become Drakes or Krakes, depending upon their gender; Dragons seem to enjoy all that glitters, hence they value treasure, though some claim that Drakes draw power from gold and gems and precious metals, yet how that can be I know not; from the scroll and from the tale told by Arilla at Black Mountain, Dragons come from another Plane, from a world known as Kelgor, and the in-between crossing point would seem to be the ledge upon Dragons’ Roost, which they guard jealously; Dragons are virtually unkillable, and but for myths I’ve never heard of a person slaying one, though it is said that they die at times in battle with other Drakes.”
Arin fell silent and looked from one to another, finally asking, “Has any aught to add?”
Alos cleared his throat. Arin motioned for him to speak. “Hem,” he said. “They can sense when so-called intruders are in their domain, and they can change shape to become anything they wish, at times passing among cities in human guise.”
Ferret snorted, but otherwise remained silent.
“They breathe fire,” said Aiko. “And in accord with Arilla’s tale, I would deem them vain…some, at least.”
“It is said they like riddle games,” added Delon.
“They can see in total darkness,” added Burel, “or so Mayam told me when I was but a lad.”
“Speaking of that,” said Alos, his white eye glaring, “they say that Dragonsight allows them to see things that are hidden, invisible, and unseen. Perhaps that’s why they can see in the dark.”
Quiet fell, and only the creak of rope and the plash of water along the hull broke the silence. Finally Egil said, “Most of the Dragons are pledged not to raid as long as the Mages guard the Dragonstone.”
“Do you think they know that the Dragonstone is, um, mislaid?” asked Delon.
Arin shrugged, then said, “They haven’t begun widespread devastation. Hence, mayhap they do not know.”
“If so,” said Ferret, “then we mustn’t give that secret away, especially not to the Dragons.”
A murmur of agreement muttered ’round.
“Is there aught else?” asked Arin.
Burel heaved a great sigh. “I have heard from others that Dragons have the power in their eyes to charm a being witless, and that their voices can beguile the wisest of men and women.”
“Oh!” exclaimed Ferret. When all eyes turned her way, she said, “Old Nom said that there is a chink in the armor of every Dragon, and if you know where it is, well, you can kill it.”
Delon raised a skeptical eyebrow but remained silent.
“Perhaps that’s the way Gurd killed the Monster Kram,” said Egil to Arin, harking back to the heroic song they had heard while at supper in the Silver Helm in Königinstadt. “Found his chink and did him in.”
Arin shook her head. “As with much about Dragons, I think ’tis but a myth Old Nom hath repeated. Even so, let us not overlook the possibility.”
Again silence fell upon the group, and no more rumor or fact was forthcoming. Finally Egil said, “Then let us see if we can find a way to get past the Drake on Dragons’ Roost.”
Ferret took a deep breath and said, “If they value treasure, perhaps we can bribe the Drake to let us enter the cavern and make our way down to the pool.”
“I tell y’ he’ll eat us and just take the tribute for his own,” declared Alos.
“Well, perhaps we could hide it—the bribe, I mean—and only tell him where it is after we’ve got what we came for.”
Alos shook his head. “He’d eat us still, and take not only the tribute, but the silver chest and Dragonstone as well.”
“Well then,” said Delon, “if they like riddles, how about this…?”
* * *
They debated until it was nearly noon, discarding plan after plan, until finally Egil said, “We’re getting nowhere, and some of us need rest ere it is our turn to crew again. Let us sleep on it.”
And so, Arin, Egil, Aiko, and Burel took to the bunks below, while Alos, Ferret, and Delon sailed the Brise onward and continued their futile planning.
* * *
Likewise that night, Egil, Arin, Burel, and Aiko debated at length to no resolution. Too, on this night Aiko suddenly took in her breath, then turned to Arin and said, “My tiger growls of distant peril.”
Arin stood and scanned the waters all ’round by the light of the silver half moon setting in the west. Finally she said, “I see nought, Aiko.”
The Ryodoan shook her head. “Nevertheless, Dara, peril is yon somewhere. I felt it last night as well.”
“Is something trailing us, do you think?” asked Burel.
“If so, it comes only at night,” Aiko replied.
“Perhaps it’s a Rover ship passing by, just beyond the horizon,” suggested Egil.
Aiko turned up her hands, for the peril was fading. And none saw the great dark silhouette high in the sky flap away among the stars above.
* * *
A week passed, and still the comrades had no viable plan, and still at night peril came and went, or so said Aiko. The Brise had now turned on a course across the wide northern strait toward the coastline of Vancha some two hundred miles away. She was making for the port of Castilla on the southern shores of that land, where they planned on restocking the sloop with food and water, and whatever else they might need, should they come up with a scheme.
“Damn, damn!” hissed Egil. “This is why that bastard Ordrune hid the chest by the Kraken Pool. There’s no way to get in there and steal it back…guarded by Dragons and Krakens and a maelstrom-driven current you can’t swim against.”
“Perhaps we ought to go to the Mages on Rwn and get help,” suggested Delon.
“Take these with thee, no more, no less,” intoned Ferret. “I don’t think the rede permits a Mage to go with us.”
“Well, if they can’t go with us, there may be a chance that they can suggest something,” said Delon. “I mean, after all, Dara Arin sought their help once before.”
“Perhaps they can give us a ring of invisibility,” said Ferret.
“Ha!” snapped Alos. “Didn’t you listen when I said that Dragons can see things hidden, invisible, unseen? Ring of invisibility, indeed. He’d just snap you up and swallow you whole, visible or not.”
“Well,” said Ferret, nonplused, “if not a ring, then something which would help us get into the tunnel past the Drake.”
“Not only in, luv, but out, too,” said Delon. “Remember, we’ve got to escape as well.”
* * *
On the third night in the port city of Castilla, Delon and Ferret sat in the common room of La Estrella Azul, one of the rowdier inns along the waterfront, having tracked down Alos to find him under a table passed out. As they quaffed a brew of their own, Delon laughed and pointed and said to Ferret, “Look.”
Gyrating atop the bar was a woman dressed in nought but swirling veils, her hips rolling and turning as she dropped the tissue-thin garments one by one at the behest of a patron with a fistful of coins, the man obviously aroused and paying out copper or bronze for each veil released, depending upon where they were draped. Other men were gathered ’round and whooping and clapping and urging the woman on, their gazes filled with lust.
Suddenly Delon’s eyes lit up. “That’s it!” he exclaimed.
“What?”
Again Delon pointed. “The man: think of him as a Dragon.”
“The man with the coins? How fitting, though ‘twould be even more so were he dealing gold. But what does this have to do with us getting the treasure?”
Delon turned to Ferret, his eyes shining. “Think of the dancer as a Kraken.”
“Kraken? Look, Delon, though she writhes like one, she hasn’t enough arms.”
“Yes, yes. But listen, luv, and look: what does the Dragon want?” Delon gestured
toward the bar.
Ferret looked once again at the man with the coins; his pants bulged at the crotch. Then she turned to Delon, a glimmer of understanding beginning to dawn in her eyes. “Leave it to you, my love, to think of such a thing.”
Delon laughed. “Indeed.” He stood and moved ’round the table and dragged Alos out from under and hefted the oldster across his shoulders. He turned to Ferret. “Come, luv, let’s go tell the others.”
* * *
“Offer him what?”
“Love. Offer the Dragon love,” replied Delon. “A roll in the hay…or in this case, a roll in the sea.”
Arin, lying in bed beside Egil, glanced over at him and then turned back to Delon. “How?” she asked.
“Well, look, if there’s a Kraken in the pool, we can lure it out for the Dragon.”
* * *
“Do what?” asked Aiko.
“Lure it out for the Dragon,” repeated Delon.
They were all now gathered together, Arin, Egil, Aiko, Burel, Ferret, and Delon. Even Alos was there, though he was on the floor slumped against a leg of a table, dead to the world.
“And just how do you plan on doing that?”
“Look, we can’t swim in against the current, but we certainly should be able to swim out.”
“Into the maelstrom? Are you mad?”
“No, no. You see, some will rappel down the cliff and set up ropes or rope webbing or some such so that at low tide, whoever lures the Kraken at the pool can run down the path and draw it after, and dive into the current at the last instant and swim out and be rescued by the ones on the cliff. Then Ferret, here, can unlock the chest and get the Dragonstone. Meanwhile, the Dragon will be entirely out of the way, involved in the arms of the Kraken, making mad passionate love in the whirl of the Great Maelstrom.”
Egil looked at Delon. “What makes you think we will even get a chance to talk with the Dragon?”
“They say Dragons are inquisitive,” said Delon, “at least when it comes to puzzles and riddles. I think we’ve a good chance he’ll be curious as to why six of us, or seven if Alos goes along, why we might be freely walking into his lair. If so, then I believe we’ll make him an offer he’ll not refuse.”
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