Storms of Victory (Witch World: The Turning)

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Storms of Victory (Witch World: The Turning) Page 40

by Andre Norton


  “As quickly as possible,” the mercenary answered with a speed which proclaimed the thought he had been giving to the effort ahead of them. “A long campaign would be all but disastrous for Seakeep, but if we can move rapidly enough, we should be able to spare our people and Ravertfield's much slaughter and destruction.”

  The grey eyes were bright now, piercing like to his falcon's.

  “You have said, Lady, that Ogin has no close kin to take Ravenfield after him?”

  “None,” replied Una.

  “Tell me, Rufon, would his Dalesfolk fight stoutly or yield if he were proven slain and a strong force was before their gates?”

  The older man thought a while.

  “Yield, if they could feel at all sure they would be spared. They have had to accustom themselves to submitting under Ogin and his father before him to a degree that has ever been unacceptable to any other bale in this area.”

  “Is he allied with any of the neighboring lords?”

  The Holdlady shook her head.

  “No. He is not liked and his house is not, it being a fairly new line here whose rulers have not fit in well with our ways. His grandsire married into Ravenfield, you see, and brought in a lowland lady a few years after when the Holdlady died in unsuccessful childbirth.” She smiled rather ruefully. “We highlanders are slow to accept change.”

  “There must have been ties with the original house. Who would have taken Ravenfield had the outside woman riot come?'’

  “Seakeep. We have no claim against that of true marriage, though.”

  “No, Lady, nor do I suggest pressing such an argument, but it may well help us in winning the Dale and establishing a quick and stable peace there once we take but Ogin if memory is held long here, as you state.”

  Rufon nodded.

  “You intend to go after the wrecker crew before marching on the stronghold?” he asked.

  “Aye,” Tarlach replied. “Theirs is the crime, and theirs must be the payment. I want them brought down before they can either hide themselves or flee the region entirely. Ogin in particular must be felled quickly. If once he can hole himself in his keep, we shall have a long and bitter struggle in front of us which might well be the death of both Dales.”

  “Are you not assuming much in building our plans around the possibility of the Holdlord's being with his killers when we strike?” Brennari asked, interrupting for the first time. “To my mind, it would be more likely that he should pass the greater part of his time in comfort in his keep.”

  “That would normally be true, but he knows that Seakeep boats will be out seeking the Cormorant, and I very much doubt he will trust his murderers not to attack if any of them come uncomfortably close, particularly, if the Dion Star is still intact.”

  “If he is not with them?” the lieutenant persisted.

  “Then we brace ourselves for a siege and hope it will be short-lived.”

  “His people are too cowed for us to hope they will rise against him even after learning the cause of our attack,” the Holdruler warned.

  “Aye, but they should also he incapable of courageous resistance against us, nor do I imagine they would wish to offer such battle.”

  The Falconer captain strode, to the window slit and peered out at the bay for a moment before facing them once more.

  “I want the tern repainted grey, mottled over with black and touches of white. Cover both sails and hull in this manner.”

  “It shall be done,” the Dalesman assured him. “The other vessels?”

  “Send them out at enee as they are. Let Ogin grow accustomed to seeing Seakeep craft. I plan to hold the Tern offshore until twilight. The growing dusk coupled with her camouflage should keep her invisible until we are all but upon the wreckers, but if we are seen, I would prefer that their suspicions be lulled concerning purpose.”

  “If the Dion Star remains?”

  “The boat or boats first finding her must explore her, of course. There will be nothing left to arouse suspicion by then, and our people will be able to carry on with their play. I would say she will be gone by now, though, either through the storm or deliberately scuttled after having been stripped.”

  “The wrecker might come upon our search parties.”

  He shook his head.

  “Ogin will not make that mistake a second time. She will be staying well out during the daylight hours. That is another reason why I wish to penetrate her harbor late, to give her time to get inside herself.” He frowned. “There is a slight chance that she will remain at sea altogether, but I believe her crew will prefer the coriiforts of a snug harbor enough to have their will in that matter. She is designed for quick raiding, not long-term dwelling, and the ocean is still unsettled enough to make staying aboard her unpleasant unless she be secured in a place of good shelter.”

  “Perhaps she will, wait until full dark before seìeking her base,’’ Rorick suggested.

  “I think not. She is rather too big to risk running the Cradle at night.”

  So is the Tern!.”

  Tarlach nodded.

  “We must be inside before then Ourselves.”

  He fell quiet a short while as he envisioned the attack in his own mind.

  “We shall have to strike quickly and conquer quickly. Ogin's men know that harbor intimately. If we give them, time to maneuver, they could, draw us into disaster. The Tern is large for work in that bay.

  If it be possible at all we must prevent anyone from escaping up the cliff to warn the stronghold, or our task there will be the harder. Sending in a landing party simultaneously with our attack should accomplish that.”

  “Once the wreckers are overcome?” questioned Una.

  “We march on the stronghold, bringing any of the killers still living with us and also Ogin's body.” His mouth hardened. “That one will never permit himself to be taken living.”

  “The capture of a keep with the number of warriors the Tern can carry is a large assignment even for Falconers,” Brennan commented dryly; but his eyes were smiling, for he knew his commander well enough to realize he would have a ready answer to that objection.

  Tarlach grinned.

  “So it would, Comrade, but the, remainder of the fleet shall return home once the mock search is over and sail again for Ravenfield. They should reach the cove some six hours after our arrival, bringing with them supplies and the rest of our company. Seakeep's warriors shall march Overland, bringing our horses with them, and meet with us en route.—Perhaps you might suggest the best place for our rendezvous, Lady, Rufori?” he added.

  “There are a number of good possibilities,” the Dalesman replied. “If I might have a map, my Lady, lest my memory fail me on some point, and the captain can choose from amongst them?”

  She herself brought the chart to him, and it did not take long to select the most suitable site.

  Tarlach remained looking at the map for several seconds, as if troubled by some thought. At last, he sighed and, raising his eyes, fixed them on the Holdruler.

  “The overland column will be composed of your own soldiers, my Lady. I know it is much to ask, but would have you march with them.”

  That brought violent protest from the other three men, but he silenced them impatiently.

  “Think, will you? What people would give themselves over to a band of blank shields, even when accompanied by neighboring Dalesfolk? Lady Una rules Seakeepdale, and her house has had the respect of the region for generations. Her presence could go far in convincing, the Rayenfield garrison and those they defend to yield quickly to us.”

  “1 will go,” Una interjected before further discussion could take place, “but not overland. I sail on the Ten.”

  Lady …” the commander began.

  “Now you think, Captain! Where will a healer serve your wounded best, with them or with another band miles distant?”

  For a moment, she feared that he would still deny her, but then his head bowed, albeit all could see that he gave way most unwillingl
y. Her skill was simply too great for him to deny his warriors access to it.

  All were silent some time after that, then Una glanced at the mercenary leader.

  “What if one of our supposed search craft should happen to chance upon the wrecker?” she asked. “She could not pretend not to see her.”

  He smiled.

  “Well asked. It is unlikely but could happen.—She shall hail her and ask if she has seen any sign of the Cormorant, as well as making the other inquiries to be expected at such a meeting. Our enemies will most assuredly have a convincing set of answers prepared for such an eventuality.”

  The Seakeep leaders, remained together a long time until the plans for the conducting of their attacks were settled, then they separated, Tarlach going to his Falconers and Una to address her people and prepare the fleet as the captain had instructed.

  23

  It was the middle of the following day before all was at last in readiness and the assault force was preparing itself for departure.

  Una came to Tarlach's chamber to go over any final details which might have occurred to him since their last meeting.

  He had assumed once more the dark cloak and high helm of his race, and her heart twisted in her breast at the sight of him, although she had known it would be thus. The uniform rendered him stern of appearance and distant.

  When she looked into what she could see of his face, however, the feeling of loss left her. The man had not changed with his costume.

  They spoke together only a short while—the council of the previous evening had covered just about everything that needed to be discussed—but the mercenary did not seem eager to quit the apartment to join their comrades below, and so she stood beside him, watching the activity boiling around the loading area of the harbor.

  Tarlach's eyes went to the vessel they would soon board, and he shook his head in something of wonder.

  “Your people have done well,” he said to his companion. “I know where the Tern is moored, and yet I must half convince myself that I am seeing her. She will be nigh unto invisible to those not expecting her coming.”

  “I pray it may be so.”

  He turned, away from the window abruptly, as if he could no longer bear the view.

  “I would you were not coming with us.”

  “I must.”

  “I know, but you are not fit for war despite your ability with a sword.”

  The woman nodded.

  “That, I realize. I shall stay out of the fighting, unless, of course the issue goes so far against us that I have no option but to defend myself.”

  The Falconer's hand whitened where it rested against the stone wall.

  “It wonders me that you can entrust yourself to my care again.”

  “I would trust you with my immortal soul,” she whispered fiercely.

  At that moment, the kitten Bravery squalled and hissed. She had been curled up on the foot of Tarlach's bed where she had climbed after Una had put her down upon entering the room, but now she was on her feet, her little back arched, her ears laid back. Even as she moved, Storm Challenger gave his more formidable battle cry.

  The humans whirled about. The air before them was shimmering.

  Tarlach put himself between Una of Seakeep and the. disturbance. He knew it for what it was, a gate such as he had seen open in the Bower.

  There was no escape. He dared not try to force their way through it to the door, and so he drew his sword and, heart pounding, waited to front whatever was to come.

  As before, the figure of a woman materialized, approaching them as if from a great distance.

  The spirit Una stepped into the room and stood surveying them. The Falconer could not fully read what lay in her expression, but he did not believe anger to be there or even very great surprise. Comprehension, perhaps, and maybe something of impatience.

  “Have no fear, Bird Warrior,’’ she said in her oddly, pitched voice. “I have come with a warning, not to make farther requests of my sister.”

  He inclined his head in acknowledgment but blocked with his left hand the Holdlady's instinctive move toward the other.

  “We bid you welcome in that event, but all the same, it is best that you remain some distance from us. Sit if you will, Lady. There is a chair behind you.”

  She frowned.

  “Is the round tower now yours to command that you give greeting and issue orders to those who come with business to conduct here?”

  “The tower, no, but these are my quarters.”

  The newcomer smiled at that, and in smiling seemed well-nigh one with Una of Seakeep.

  “I stand corrected, Captain.”

  Tarlach waited until she was seated. Her expression had grown grave again almost immediately, and he did not doubt that her purpose for coming to them was indeed a serious one.

  “You mentioned a warning, Lady,” he prompted at last.

  She nodded slowly.

  “I did.—You have both noted that unlike the most of High Hallack, there are no active relics of the Old Ones, in this area, that the ruins here are but that and no centers of half-sleeping Power?”

  “Aye, this we know.”

  “It is by no accident but through the individual and collective courage and the determination of those who once lived here that this is true.

  “The populace of all this world was larger and richer, far more varied, in those distant .days, with many non-human races sharing place with those like to our own kind. Humans held this area, people strong in Power, men and women alike, though the last possessed and wielded it in by far the greater measure.

  “An adept dwelled near to them, in a tower he had raised by his arts atop a rock straddling the mouth of a small inlet—”

  “The Cradle!” gasped Una.

  “Even so.—Like all too many others, he, in his arrogance and his hunger for ever more Power, ever more knowledge, drew upon forces better left untapped, tried gates never meant to open into any living realm such as ours. Because he himself was so dark of spirit, the results of his meddling proved direr than those which cursed so many other places, for himself and for all around him. He called and was answered, not by a thing of the Shadow but by a lord of the true Dark. His stronghold and all within it vanished in a blast of fire and bitter wind in. that answering.

  “The inhabitants of the region had been forewarned of his experiments and had deduced that trouble only would arise from them, though none had guessed the magnitude of the disaster he would summon. They had united to stop him but had moved a little top late. Before they could act, he had met his doom, and the Dark had been loosed upon the land.”

  She paused, as if to collect her thoughts, then went on.

  “The full horror of what had occurred was soon brought terribly home to them, and they realized this massive evil must be stopped at once or all the world and perhaps other worlds with it were lost. They separated then, the women and the men, each party knowing they would not see the other again.

  “The sorceresses fronted that lord of the Dark in their united Power and fought it in such a battle as had not been waged before or ever since in all this realm. In the end, their aim was achieved. They opened a gate into its own place and succeeded in driving it back into it, but in order to seal the passage permanently, they were forced to follow after their foe into that nightmare land. They completed their work and saved our realm, but for them there was no return. They remain, preserved in that dread prison by their erisorcellments and maintaining their sanity, which was otherwise lost, by lying in a sleep like to a living death.”

  “Their men?” Tarlach asked.

  “There was the original gate remaining, that which had engulfed the accursed adept and his keep. It had to be closed as well, but it was guarded. The Dark thing had left its Dog to hold the passage. This they had to defeat before they could begin their labor, in the full knowledge that if it could delay them long enough, its master would come, and all they had striven to preserve at such awesome
cost would be lost.

  “They were already few in number, having been badly decimated by earlier encounters with the adept's hirelings and the lesser things he had drawn to him, and their enemy was forewarned by the vibrations of its master's battle, even then raging in all its fury. It was prepared for trouble and prepared to return it in full measure.

  “Most of the attackers perished in the assault, but the handful remaining drove it back into its gate and, with their last strength, sealed the entrance, dying to a man of that effort and the wounds they had sustained in die battle preceding it.”

  “Their children?” the human woman asked. “There must have been many too young to fight.”

  “None were left. All of them had been slaughtered, along with those tending them, in the first wild rampage of that dark force. It was this massacre, the manner of the killing, which had alerted the adults to the nature of that which they and their realm faced.’’

  Both her listeners said nothing for some while after she finished speaking.

  “A dread tale and a proud one,” the Falconer responded at last, “but how does it affect us save as an example of courage?”

  “Because those men, for all their bravery and sacrifice, had not been strong enougb to succeed fully in their aim. The Dog was not sent back through that passage but was, rather, trapped within it. It was weakened by the wounds it had taken and farther reduced by the lack of sustenance over the interminable ages since its imprisoning, but now blood has been shed at and around the Cradle, and pain and fear and anger have been released and the blood-lust and greed of the murderers. The Dog has fed well and tries its bonds. Only a little more of such offerings, a very little, and it will break free once more When it does, be assured that its master will not fee long in following.”

  Her eyes met and held each of theirs in turn.

  “There is no company now extant possessing and practiced enough in the wielding of such united Power as to be able to chain those things again. Even Estcarp's Witches at the height of their strength would have been hard-pressed to do it, and they have not yet nearly recovered after their moving of the mountains. No Individual human being can hope to withstand either of them. If that gate opens and they gain entrance here, this realm will see a riving such as it did not endure during the worst days of that ancient war.”

 

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