“If not Habbakuk, then who are you?”
Still clutching Aryx by the wrist, the ethereal figure smiled, then pointed with his free hand at the axe strapped to his back. “If those statues back home don’t look at all like me, lad, I would have thought you’d at least recognized him.”
The younger warrior glanced again at the wondrous axe, his reflection in it mirroring his confusion.
Mirror … face …
“I can’t help you beyond this. The Father of All and of Nothing is everywhere, and even the gods are hard-pressed. You’re on your own now, Grandson. Luck be with you.”
The tall, gleaming warrior released Aryx’s wrist.
“No!” he shouted, desperate to get more answers. “Kazi—”
“—ganthi!” Aryx finished. “Wait!”
He clamped his mouth shut, looking around at the darkened ruins of Sargonnas’s temple. His hand still stretched forward as if he intended to shut the doors. The mountains, the volcanoes, and ghostly figure who had spoken with him had vanished. Even staring with the dragon orb brought no change.
“Aryx?”
Turning quickly, the emerald-eyed warrior expected to see the silver minotaur, but instead none other than Seph awaited him at the bottom of the cracked steps. Seph had his axe drawn and watched his brother with tremendous concern.
“What are you doing here, Seph?”
“I woke and couldn’t find you. For some reason, I thought you might be around this area … but I didn’t expect to see you standing up there like that.”
“Like what? What did you see?”
Seph shrugged. “Like you were deciding whether or not to close the doors, which made no sense, Aryx, since the temple doesn’t even have any walls.”
“That’s it? That’s all you saw?”
“Was there something I missed? Did Sargonnas come back?”
Aryx debated telling his brother about what he had experienced … or imagined … but held back. “No, Sargonnas didn’t come back. I doubt he ever will.”
“Mithas and Kothas will survive, Aryx. I heard General Hojak point out that if Chaos attacks any of us, it’ll be the armada, since it represents the bulk of resistance.”
Aryx descended the steps. “He’s probably right … which is why we should both get what rest we can. Sorry to worry you, Seph.”
“Well, with everyone else in the family spread throughout the empire, the two of us have to keep together. I don’t want anything happening to you.”
“Nor I you.” As they abandoned the ruins of the temple, the dusky gray warrior realized that, imagination or not, he felt more secure about the fate of the islands. They would survive … for now. What Hojak had said made sense; if a threat still existed, the fleet would be its target. The ships represented not only the minotaurs’ greatest hope, but possibly the hope of a good portion of the rest of Krynn as well.
Yet even in the most peaceful of times, the Maelstrom ever sought to appease its great hunger, and to have any chance of reaching the mainland quickly, the ships would have to skirt close to it.
Very close …
The Maelstrom
Chapter Fifteen
Just when Aryx and so many others had believed it could never happen, the greatest fleet in the history of the minotaurs, and perhaps even in the history of all Krynn, prepared to set sail. The ships from Kothas left first, arriving in the waters just off Nethosak. They were soon followed by those from the lesser ports. When all had gathered, the Vengeance and the Avenger’s Axe, looking like sister ships in both name and determination, set forth, flagships for the grand expedition that would bring unimaginable legions of minotaurs to fight for glory and the survival of the world.
They could not, of course, fit every able warrior aboard the fleet. Even at its peak, the minotaur empire could never have done so. Lord Broedius had finally settled on transporting an armed force to the knights’ command point, then immediately sending the ships back in order to load and transport a second army. With the threat to the islands apparently over, the commander felt the way clear for full-scale efforts in every aspect of the expedition. His intentions were obvious to most. He planned to present Lord Ariakan with the full might of the minotaur empire as soon as possible, whatever the cost.
To Aryx, it seemed only he doubted the clear destiny of the armada. However, as he stood on the deck of the Vengeance, watching the other ships follow, he could not help but admire the effort. Granted, much of the fleet consisted of the slim ships the Kazelati had provided, but the Kazelati were minotaurs, too, after all. Their triumphs were triumphs for the entire race.
He still had reservations about them, as did many from the empire. It was incredible to think that a society such as theirs had existed in secret all these centuries, watching the movements of the empire. Still, the Kazelati followed a noble lineage, and none of them looked ready to shirk their duty. They would fight beside their cousins against the Chaos creatures, as willing to die for the cause as any.
Clouds covered the heavens, but out in the open sea that often proved the case, especially the nearer one sailed toward the Maelstrom. No one knew for certain whether the vestiges of the Magori horde would attack at all, but Lord Broedius still insisted on the utmost precautions, which had been why their course lay so near the titanic whirlpool. Even the Magori would be at risk in the turbulent waters there.
The winds increased the farther out they got, another effect of the Maelstrom. Shouting made Aryx turn to watch the Vengeance’s crew, the humans having to work harder to compensate for the shifting sea. Fortunately several minotaurs rode aboard the vessel, their knowledge of the Blood Sea invaluable now. Slightly ahead of the Vengeance, the Avenger’s Axe sailed a smoother course, its minotaur crew more adept at dealing with the wild waves.
Aryx could not say why, but he thought a change had come over the knights. Many of them had grown sullen, silent, and at times quite careless, despite the great victory won. Overall, he thought that they seemed distracted, as if a troublesome secret weighed heavily on the mind of each. Even Lord Broedius did not always act as himself, on occasion forgetting orders he had given or snapping at others for no good reason. Aryx had originally chalked it up to the humans’ anxiety to return to the mainland, but now, after studying them up close aboard the ship, he wondered if perhaps they had another reason for their distraction.
Trying not to waste time puzzling out the minds of humans, he stared back along the route they had sailed. Mithas had finally vanished in the distance, but Aryx could not help but wonder how those left behind were faring. Some sections of the imperial port already functioned, while others had been left in such disarray that some questioned whether they would ever recover. To the surprise of many, additional foreign vessels had arrived in a few locations, most of their captains as unaware of the overall devastation wrought across parts of Krynn as the first merchant had been. In great need of the goods, those who could dealt with the newcomers, but few able minotaurs had been left behind to handle affairs. The emperor had reluctantly stayed behind to help coordinate the latest recovery efforts. Two of the surviving members of the Supreme Circle assisted him.
“You ought to come away from there,” Delara whispered in his ears. “The Blood Sea looks extremely turbulent today.”
He put his arm around her. Fate had thrown the pair of them together, and although they had barely had time to learn about each other, Aryx found himself thinking about the future … if the expedition succeeded. Delara did not stare at his emerald eye the way others still did. She saw only Aryx when she looked at him, not someone marked by the gods, and he very much appreciated that.
“Where’s Seph?”
“Your brother’s with the Kazelati volunteers who joined us from Avenger’s Axe. Ever since he found out about these Kazelati, he’s been pestering them with questions. He wants to discover all he can about these strange cousins of ours.”
“And has he found out anything?”
“Hard
to say. He seems in awe of them.” Delara snorted, not entirely trusting the newcomers. “I find them arrogant.”
A startling shift came over the weather. The wind intensified, the clouds thickened, and the waves rose higher and higher. The sudden change did not startle Aryx much, for now he could also hear a distant roaring, the Maelstrom’s hungry call. Sailors on not only the Vengeance but every ship within sight darted about, tightening lines, loosening others, adjusting sails, and hoping that nothing would send them off course into the sea’s voracious maw. Every minotaur respected the power of the Maelstrom.
Delara clutched the rail. “If the underdwellers try to swim in that, they’ll be tossed all over the place.”
“Maybe.” Aryx tried not to underestimate the aquatic reavers and their sinister puppet master.
“And, of course, with you and the cleric aboard, they wouldn’t dare attack in the first place … not after the way you drove them from the islands.”
He wished he could believe her, he really did, but Aryx did not doubt that the crustaceans would try again, if only because they feared the Coil.
“You two had better go below.” Rand, blond hair already soaked, stumbled toward them. He had not fully adjusted to the frantic rocking of the ship. “I know I will as soon as I can. The route we took to reach Mithas was nothing like this. I now know for certain that I prefer land to sea.”
Aryx held back a chuckle. He liked the human cleric enough not to mock his troubles. Through the dragon eye, he saw that the aura had regained some intensity. “Don’t say that too loud, or Zeboim might just take offense, human.”
Thinking of the goddess, Aryx glanced out at the wild water. Had Sargonnas been with them, he could have perhaps persuaded his tempestuous daughter to bless their voyage, but then could they have trusted such a promise?
“I have the most humble respect for her as I do the rest of the gods, even—” Rand bit his lip. “Aryx, Delara, I must ask you something. Will you keep it to yourselves?” When they both nodded, he pressed on. “Have you noticed anything amiss among the Knights of Takhisis? Have you noticed a growing uncertainty?”
“They seem pretty certain to me,” Delara interjected. “A haughty but capable bunch … for humans.”
Aryx hesitated, not sure what he should admit to the cleric. Carefully he replied, “They seem distracted.”
“Distracted … a delicate choice of words, my friend. I will be frank with you. You know that each of the Knights of Takhisis follows a Vision?”
Again Aryx nodded, but Delara added, “I’ve heard about it a couple of times, but I still don’t quite understand.”
Rand’s expression darkened. “Her Infernal Majesty set upon each of her chosen knights a Vision in which they see their part in her eventual victory. The Vision spurs them on, makes them fanatical in their loyalty to her.” The cleric hesitated, clearly looking as if he were about to betray someone. “Just a short time before the departure of the armada, Carnelia came to me and told me that she could no longer see the Vision Takhisis had cast for her. The Vision had simply ceased at some point. It was as if her goddess had severed any connection between the two of them.”
“Was Carnelia being punished for something?”
“She thought as much herself, although for what crime, she could not say, but after she told me, I watched the others. I have come to the conclusion that not one of them, not even Lord Broedius, although he hides it better, has any link to his patroness. For reasons I cannot fathom, Takhisis appears to have abandoned her knights. I believe they now go on mostly because of Lord Broedius’s leadership.”
Aryx tried to remain calm. Memories of the conversation he had heard through the temple doors returned. Sargonnas had been arguing with a female, one who had talked about deserting. “Why come to me?”
“Despite your faith in Kiri-Jolith, Sargonnas favored you. I wondered if he … but, no, it was a foolish thought. Why would even you know what occurs between the gods?”
Again Aryx thought about telling Rand his suspicions concerning the possible confrontation between Sargonnas and his mate, but in the end, he decided to hold back. To tell the knights that their goddess had truly abandoned both them and Krynn only served discord. Besides, did they really want the help of the dark gods at this juncture?
The cleric took his silence for his answer. “My apologies for even presenting such an absurd question, Aryx. I had hoped to give Carnelia some comfort.”
A sudden jolt sent the human to the rail. Grimacing, Rand eyed the door leading to the cabins. With his rank as a cleric, he had been given a small private room. The human would have turned it down, but Broedius had insisted, pointing out that, as with the quarters provided in the capital, none of his officers cared to bunk with a nonbeliever.
“I think I’ve had enough of this for now. Would that I could calm this sea with the same power I used to push back the fog, but a second such miracle seems beyond me, perhaps forever. If you will excuse me …” Fighting the shifting deck, the cleric wended his way toward the door.
“Look there!” Delara whispered, suddenly pointing out to sea. “The Maelstrom!”
Even in the distance, the edge of the immense whirlpool could be seen. Water rose in swift, cascading waves, spiraling off farther in the distance. Bits of flotsam and jetsam, some pieces as big as small boats, floated helplessly toward the distant maw. The roar of the Maelstrom escalated with each passing moment.
The ships began to turn, the captains countering the Maelstrom’s effect. Minotaurs knew better than anyone the idiosyncrasies of the titanic whirlpool and thereby understood where best to take advantage of its power. A good captain could actually speed up his journey by skirting the outer limits of the Maelstrom.
“All hands to stations!” somebody roared. If the crew had looked active before, they now moved with a fanatical pace. Everyone understood that a single error could send the ship on a course to the bottom of the Blood Sea.
As was typical, the clouds grew stormier the nearer they sailed. Thunder rolled; trying to compete with the roar from the vortex. Lightning played in the clouds. Rain began to add to the constant spray. The change proved more remarkable in that it took place in but a few minutes.
“We’ve got to get below!” Delara shouted.
“Go! I’ll be there in a moment!” Despite a part of him that urged Aryx below, the minotaur did not move. He felt drawn to the Maelstrom, drawn to its fury. The whirlpool had been a part of his background since his birth. Since the Great Cataclysm that had destroyed Istar and created the minotaur isles, the Maelstrom had spun. It had become as certain a constant to his people as the sun and the moons.
A figure stepped near him. Thinking it was Delara, Aryx turned to insist that she go below without him.
Lord Broedius stood at the rail, the rain and spray seeming not to bother him one bit. Like Aryx, he, too, appeared fascinated by the Maelstrom.
“Will we have any trouble?” the minotaur shouted.
“The Maelstrom is the least of our worries,” the knight commander replied. “I doubt we’re alone out here.”
“The Magori?”
“Perhaps. The servants of the Chaos come in many forms. The other ships are already being warned to be wary.”
Aryx looked behind them. Far back, he could see one of the knights signaling with a covered lantern. From the Avenger’s Axe came an answering flash, at which point the knight turned to signal another vessel. Meanwhile, someone aboard Captain Brae’s ship began contacting yet others.
The ever-increasing rain swiftly threatened to turn into a full-fledged storm. Aryx gripped the rail, wondering at his own sanity for remaining on deck any longer.
Lightning crackled, and a bolt struck the sea near one of the other lead ships. Aryx tried to stop thinking about the Maelstrom by turning his gaze toward the direction of their eventual destination. The rain and seawater forced him to squint to try to keep the moisture out of his eyes.
A vast black ship rose
high in the distance, seemingly completely at the mercy of the mad sea.
“By the sea goddess …” Aryx gripped the rail tighter as he tried to make out the storm-tossed vessel. It was a three-masted giant, almost identical to the Vengeance save that one of the masts had been torn completely away and the sails on the others were mere tatters. The ship listed to one side, and now and then a great wave would wash completely over the deck.
“Lord Broedius …”
The senior knight followed his gaze. Broedius cursed the moment he made out the ship. “One of ours …”
Although the other vessel remained distant, Aryx could just make out a few details now. “The rail’s shattered in several places. That second mast will collapse soon. I think … I thought I saw a body, but I can’t be certain.”
“Never mind that, minotaur! Quick! Can you see any banners, any marks whatsoever to identify her?”
By this time, many others had noticed the battered vessel. Both men and minotaurs paused, trying to see it.
Aryx scanned the ship, searching for some identifying mark, but only spotted a tattered flag at the end with the skull and lily symbol of the Knights of Takhisis. He informed the knight commander of his failure.
“We’ve got to get nearer! I must know!”
“The Maelstrom’s already got hold of her! If we go too near, it may pull us in with that ghost!”
Broedius would not hear him. The knight shouted orders. Although they clearly did not like them, the crew readily obeyed. Someone signaled from the Avenger’s Axe, no doubt wanting to know the reason for the insane shift in course, but Broedius did not allow his signalman to answer it.
“Just tell them to remain on course!” he commanded.
Nearer and nearer they sailed, the water growing frothy. At one point, Aryx thought their attempt would end unfulfilled, for the other vessel suddenly listed more, almost lying on its side. However, another wave rocked it back upright, practically turning the ship toward its pursuers.
Reavers of the Blood Sea Page 29
