Storms of Victory (Witch World: The Turning)

by Andre Norton

  The man saw that a fresh Uniform had already been brought for his use.

  “As soon as I am dressed.”

  “I shall have your mount prepared.’’

  He glanced at his shoulder, recalling the trouble it had given him. It, too, was bandaged.

  "This?” he asked.

  “A nasty but harmless cut. No more than that. There is no sign of poisoning, which would have been your greatest danger from it.”

  The jade eyes darkened.

  “Slight though it is, it might have slain you… .”

  “That is over now,” he said softly.”

  He flexed his shoulders, being careful of the injured one, and was relieved to find some of the stiffness beginning to go from them.

  “How are the survivors?” he questioned her.

  “Well, all of them. They are waiting to thank you.”

  She shook her head ruefully.

  “Beyond exposure and the Shock of their experience, none of them suffered nearly as much damage as you did.”

  Tarlach merely nodded. Her answer but confirmed what he had already figured.

  Una moved toward the door.

  “Your lieutenant has been most anxious for you. Shall I send him in?”

  “Aye, of course, or he will believe me hurt for a fact.—Hurry back with my horse,” he told her. “I would not have the people of this house grow too tired of Falconers and those who hire them.”

  The captain was already nearly dressed when Brennan entered the room.

  He pulled on his tunic, wincing as his bandaged shoulder, protested this new range of movement.

  “I shall have to put up with this for a day or so, I suppose.”

  The other laughed unsympathetically.

  “Be glad that you are here to endure it, friend.—How do you feel?”

  “Sore,” he admitted, “but I am quite sound.”

  “They Horned Lord was with you,” Brennan said gravely.

  Tarlach faced him.

  “How did the Lady Una come to be hurt?”

  “She did not tell you? But, no, she would not.”

  The lieutenant described all that had happened on the high ledge.

  “That rope had cut her hands to the bone before we reached her,” he concluded. “It is only by a miracle that it did not sever some nerve or tendon and leave her a cripple. As it is, all she faces is some insignificant scarring.”

  He shook his head, grudging his admiration but compelled to give it.

  “Few of our number would have had the will to hold on as she did.”

  The commander sat on the bed. His face had gone starkly white.

  “What manner of min am I,” he whispered, “to keep her here all the night, and she wounded herself?”

  Brennan shrugged.

  “Your need was the greater, and she willed it thus.”

  “I never even noticed she was hurt.”

  “You were in poor condition to notice anything.”

  There was a knock, and, upon receiving the captain's permission, Rorick joined the pair.

  “The Lady Una ordered your stallion readied and brought to you.”

  He studied his commander critically.

  “You are looking better than you did yesterday evening, I am pleased to say.”

  “I imagine that still leaves ample room for improvement,” Tarlach replied dryly.

  He drew his cloak around his shoulders.

  “Come. I have inconvenienced the people of this place long enough.”

  He stood a moment in the door, observing the scene before him.

  The sea was still high and angry-looking, but all other sign of the storm had vanished from the world. The sun was bright and yellow, the air almost amazingly clear and pleasantly warm despite a fresh breeze.

  All color seemed to be intensified, whether in the varied hues of the surviving flowers, the vivid blue of the sky, or the startling emerald of the fields.

  The latter appeared to be in good condition, gardens and pastures alike, with the exception of those which had actually been flooded. The high walls had successfully defended the tiny areas in their keeping; Seakeep's people would not be wanting for their produce this winter.

  Tarlach was readily identifiable for once because of his bandaged arm, and as soon as the Falconer officers stepped outside, every eye fixed on him.

  His own warriors grinned as they stiffened into formal salute, but, ever remembering that they were among those not of their race, they did not call out or approach him.

  The Dalesfolk stayed back as well, but it seemed that they could hot lift their eyes from him, and the look they bent upon him was little short of adoration.

  If he were truly an outside lord, he thought, and coming into Seakeep through marriage with the Holdheir, he need not fear for his acceptance now.

  Angrily, he drove that thought from his mind and silently cursed himself for his weakness in supporting a desire which could never be fulfilled.

  More to distract himself than out of any feeling of impatience, he mounted and put his horse into a trot which quickly brought him to the gate of the round tower.

  16

  Tarlach was soon introduced to the mariners whose lives he had saved, all but their captain, and he guessed that this one was probably with the Holdlady herself in one of the chambers which she favored for her own use, probably that in which she ate, given the hour. Una rarely took her meals in the great hall unless some ceremony or gathering called for her presence there.

  That assumption was soon borne out by Rufon, who came to him with the invitation to join the Holdruler and her guest at her board.

  The Falconer went at once. He owed much to the man whose strength had held him on the prow of the dead ship, and he wanted to offer him his thanks, that and his sympathy for the losses he and his people had sustained.

  Even as he entered the room, the Sulcar rose from the place he had been occupying at Una's left and hastened toward him.

  He was an imposing man, Handsome in feature and possessed of a well-proportioned body which had, all the grace of a soaring falcon despite its extraordinary size. His fair hair was bleached almost platinum by the constant working of sun and water and looked nearly white against his bronzed skin. The eyes were a pale blue.

  The grasp of his fingers was firm when they closed on Tarlach's hand.

  “I am glad to find you well, Captain. I am Elfthorn, master of the Mermaid Fair.”

  The mercenary returned the pressure of his hand.

  “And I am pleased to see you thus and your crew as well.”

  “Because of you, we are sound. I give you thanks now in my own name and for my comrades.”

  The warrior grimaced.

  “I am sorry I could not arrange a more pleasant journey for you.”

  “Anything that took us off that cursed prow was paradise itself.”

  The blue eye darkened with a pain that would not soon leave them.

  “I should not speak of the Mermaid thus,” he said softly. “Even in death, she strove to serve us.”

  “She was a gallant ship. I grieve with you for the loss of her.”

  The other forced a smile.

  “My life was spared to me and part of my crew as well. That is far more than we had reason to expect.”

  That speech took courage, Tarlach thought. The Sulcar rode the waves as a clan, the women working their vessels beside the men, the children learning their ways almost from the time they could walk. So would it have been aboard the Mermaid Fair.

  None of those children had survived the wreck. This people lived by the sea and did not bewail what she took from them in her cruelty, but mourn they must, in solitude, in their own hearts and souls, even as Falconers bore and suffered their own losses. This was a strength and a pain he readily understood, and he grieved with Elfthorn as truly as if those the storm had riven from him had been of his own company. He held his place, however. He would not worry those deep wounds by forcing further r
esponse from the man.

  While the meal, which had been delayed until Tarlach's arrival, was being eaten, the Sulcar told how his vessel had been caught in the mighty tempest and how she had ridden it successfully until a freak, twisting wind had snapped her mainmast even as a gigantic sea had swept over her in such a manner as to rip her hatches open, all but swamping her and carrying off so many of her crew that the hopelessly overmatched pumps could no longer be properly manned.

  The outcome had been inevitable from that moment, and he had been seeking for a place to beach the doomed vessel so that those still remaining might preserve their lives and perhaps part of their cargo as well.

  He gave a great sigh.

  “Gunwold's fortune is made now.”

  “Gunwold?” Una asked blankly.

  “A man of the Old Race but one of the best sea captains I know. He is master of the Dion Star and my chiefmost rival. We were each racing to deliver a cargo of silks to the markets in the south, for conditions here are still such that there are not likely to be buyers for two such shipments, and we both knew that only the first vessel in port would dispose of her goods with profit. The pilot must have brought him through this region and sent him on his way long since, unless fate struck him some blow like that which brought us down.”

  He misunderstood the silence which greeted his statement.

  “The Star reached Linna a few hours before the Mermaid. There was only one guide ship in port of any interest to us, and Gunwold was quick to engage her.

  “To give him right credit, he offered to divide the cost with me, knowing the reputation of these waters and that I would follow him blindly, for there is no hatred in our competition, but the pilot refused to take two ships, claiming he would be unable to serve either properly if the weather should turn at all.”

  He looked from one to the other of them, frowning deeply now.

  “What is amiss?” the man asked sharply.

  “There is no pilot servicing this coast,” the Daleswoman told him quietly.

  Elfthorn's mouth hardened at the implication of her statement.

  “A pirate?”.

  “We suspect a black wrecker,” she replied, “though in this case, the two are well nigh the same.—Did you see her captain at all, speak with him?”

  He nodded and described the man as closely as his memory permitted.

  She shook her head.

  “It is hot Ogin.”

  “He would not show himself there,” Tarlach interjected. “He is too well known for that. Another, some stranger, would have to contact potential victims for him”

  “We must forget him for a moment,” Seakeep's lady told them, determination firming in her voice. “The Dion Star needs our attention now, though I very much fear there is little we shall be able to do for her. All too many ships, large and small, have vanished in this area since Ogin became master of Ravenfield, and even without the possibility of treachery, a storm such as we have Just weathered could have shattered a fleet. We have no way of guessing where or how far it might have swept her or where he might have led her.”

  “We can only wait for some word of her fate, then?”

  “Not so,” Tarlach answered. “The sea is still wild today, but by tomorrow she should be calm enough for the boats to go out, as they naturally would in the aftermath of a major tempest. Una and I shall be aboard one of them and shall explore the Ravenfield coast. That would have to be part of any search we would undertake considering the deadly name and general isolation of the region. It is my understanding that Ravenfielddale has few boats for such work.”

  The Holdruler nodded.

  “Very few, and none of them are large enough to effect an even moderately difficult rescue in deeper waters. Seakeep has traditionally taken this duty for them.”

  “Our course is plain before us, then. We will leave as soon as the sea permits.”

  The mercenary leader joined Una after they had quit the feasting hall.

  “If the ocean continues to quiet herself as she has until now, she should be calm enough for us to sail by dawn.”

  She nodded.

  “I shall order the boats to be ready to leave with the first light.”

  “In the meantime, I suppose we must inspect the valley.”

  The woman looked at him sharply. There was a dead note in his voice she did not like.

  “I must inspect it. You are to rest after your ordeal yesterday.”

  Tarlach started to protest but then shrugged, seeing she had read the weariness which had suddenly come over him.

  “How can I be so tired?” he asked. “I have done no more than ride from that cottage to the tower and eat a good meal, and I was late abed …”

  “Your body has been repairing itself. That is wearing work. To judge by some of those scars you bear, you have been wounded severely enough in the past. It must have been the same with you on several of those occasions.”

  “It was” He sighed. “Hopefully, this will not be quite so long a process as it was with a few of them.”

  She smiled.

  “Give yourself a couple of hours’ ease, and all should be right with you again.”

  The Holdlady took her leave of him, promising to see him again later in the day.

  The captain raised his hand in farewell, then went to the level where his quarters were located.

  He entered his own chamber, closing the door carefully behind him so that he should not be disturbed.

  It was with no little relief that he stretched out upon the bed and closed his eyes, but his thoughts remained active and were full of concern. He was as utterly drained as if he had taken no rest at all since he had returned from the Mermaid's prow. If he could not regain some measure of vitality before morning, he would be of little use either to himself or to his comrades.

  Despite his worry, he dozed and then slept deeply, not waking again until three full hours were gone.

  The Falconer felt refreshed and himself once more and hastened from the room in search of the Lady Una.

  He found her, as he had anticipated, in one of the recently flooded pastures.

  “How bad?” he asked after exchanging greetings with her.

  “They will do for sheep,” she replied. “That is fortunate since we shall have to close some of the higher fields. We seem to have been lucky otherwise. No one was hurt and none of the animals, and the buildings took only minor damage. The boats and their equipment are all sound as well.”

  “The crops?”

  “I have not examined the gardens yet, but according to my people, most seem to have come through well. We lost some fruit, but not as much as we expected. The other things, staples and luxuries, appear to have survived more or less intact.”

  Thus it proved when they toured the gardens a little later, and both were justifiably pleased by the time they again prepared to part.

  Their separation would be short. Tarlach wished to meet with his warriors regarding his upcoming mission and then rejoin the Daleswoman as quickly as possible so that she could brief him in greater detail than she had heretofore done on the coastline they would follow.

  Tarlach did not spend much time with his Falconers. They were to have no role tomorrow, and he merely wished to tell them what he had learned from Elfthorn and the course of action they had determined upon as a result. It was the stark confirmation of the reality of the danger threatening not only Seakeep but all this region, all the coastline, and it gave them a purpose beyond the earning of pay for being here.

  He was a little surprised when Rorick followed him outside but fell into step with him.

  “Why are you permitting the Holdruler to accompany you tomorrow?” the warrior asked without preamble.

  The captain looked sharply at him, but his anger died as it was born.

  His stupidity astonished him. He had not even thought to begin this search without having Una of Seakeep beside him, yet with the question thus brought before him, he could not wonder at the lie
utenant's surprise. It would have been a strange move even for a warrior of some other race. More, he could be sailing into a measure of danger, although it was information and not trouble that the Seakeep vessel would be hunting. Dare he, had he the right to, expose Una to that?

  He shook his head, ending his argument with himself.

  “She has to come. Lord Harvard or Lord Ferrick would if they were still living, and she cannot afford to do less.’’

  “I suppose you are right,” the other conceded. “I had not considered that. Rule must be harder to maintain for the like of her. —You will not ship any of us with you?”

  “No. Boats from Seakeepdale will be expected to appear in Ravenfield waters on their search for storm victims. The presence of Falconers would tell Ogin that we had some very different purpose in mind.”

  “He will never allow you to come upon his victim if she is still on the surface,” the other pointed out.

  “Why not, with such a storm to serve as a reason for her presence? Besides, he will not expect us to arrive so quickly. We are altering the search pattern enough to bring us to Ravenfielddale's only harbor a full day before we could normally anticipate reaching it. He will believe he has time in plenty to erase all evidence of violence before the wreck is found. The cargo he can strip at his leisure, as would be his right, claiming his own people had come to check the beach and had also discovered what was left of the Star.”

  “The wrecker ship will be kept well out to sea, I suppose.”

  He nodded.

  “Of course. Ogin would want no part of our sighting her.”

  “You might come upon his renegades as they raped their prey.”

  “That would mean a fight,” he agreed grimly. “It is not likely given the care Ogin will be exercising, but, aye, the chance does exist, and it is one against which we must guard until we are full sure we can take them. Our vanishing along with all his other victims would be of no benefit to our cause.”

  17

  A bright morning dawned to reveal a world utterly at peace. The temperature was mild, the breeze brisk without anger, the bay more like a sheltered lake than an inlet of the ocean. Even the open sea beyond was quiet and gentle, as if she had never been ruffled by more than the present soft undulating of her surface.