Then Hercуl and Drellarek charged. The battle was joined in earnest, and the two warriors fought side by side, thrusting and hacking with all their might. A number of Drellarek's men rallied at his call, and some of the fiercest sailors with them. But the fleshancs were incredibly strong. A blow from their hand was like the cuff of a bear, and their grip could shatter bone and iron.
Far below in the lifeboat, Arunis stood perfectly still.
Pazel and Admiral Isiq were hauling desperately at the lifeline; the men assigned to it had let Neeps and Druffle plunge back into the sea. Chadfallow drew off the fleshancs nearest them, laying at the creatures with a heavy chain. Ramachni seemed to be everywhere at once. With mink speed he leaped from rail to rigging to monster's face, tearing out their eyes with his little claws. And when other fleshancs closed for the kill on a fallen man, Ramachni gave an earsplitting cry and gestured with one paw, and the monster flew across the deck as if struck by a cannonball. But after each such spell Ramachni looked weaker, and soon he was gasping for breath.
A few feet from Pazel, Thasha was fighting as never before. Soldiers were down, sailors down: even as she looked another was stomped lifeless beneath a fleshanc's heel. It was clear the monsters felt no pain whatsoever, and they did not bleed. You could stab them and accomplish nothing. You could even (as she managed with one particularly lucky swing) cut off an arm, and still the fleshanc would not stop. It merely seized its severed limb and used it like a club.
Her dogs fared better than she. Old they were, but battle had restored the berserk vigor of their youth. Slavering, they leaped and battered and ripped at the fleshancs, dismembering any hand that sought them. But Thasha knew their strength could not last.
The victims mounted. Those still fighting stumbled over the corpses of their friends. She saw Ramachni falter in a leap, his forepaws slippery with blood.
On her right a man gave a hideous scream: a fleshanc was crushing him against the sharp edge of a provisions crate. Leaving her own foe, Thasha hurled herself against the creature. The sailor lurched away, but Thasha fell, and the fleshanc landed atop her.
She was pinned, unable to strike. The monster put a hand on her jaw, and the reek of death was overpowering. With unspeakable disgust she recognized the face of the last Volpek she had seen on the barge, slain by Hercуl before her eyes. It was about to have its revenge.
But at that instant the fleshanc fell limp. Its torpor lasted no more than two seconds, but Thasha did not hesitate: she threw the creature off and was safely away before it climbed to its feet.
Her eyes swept the deck: several other fleshancs had paused or stumbled; for a brief moment the humans had the advantage. What had happened? She looked wildly about, but no clue met her eyes. At last she ran to the rail and gazed down on Arunis.
The sorcerer was motionless, as before. But now he was sprawled on hands and knees, and glaring vaguely at his dog, as if only half aware of what he was looking at. The little creature was leaping about in excitement. It had knocked him over.
Then hope swelled in Thasha's chest, and she ran to the quarterdeck ladder. Captain Rose stood atop it, swinging his axe constantly, keeping the monsters single-handedly from gaining the deck.
"Captain! I think I know how to beat them!"
He gave her a livid glance. "Get below, you little fool!"
"Arunis is controlling their every move!"
"Rubbish! He can't even see them!"
"He doesn't need to-he sees them in his mind!"
Rose was barely listening. Thasha cursed, then turned and struggled up the mizzen ratline. When she was high enough she leaped down onto the quarterdeck and rushed to the captain's side.
"I'll hold them off! Just have a look at his face, will you?"
With that she pushed in front of the captain and slashed the nearest fleshanc almost in two. Rose lumbered toward the starboard rail.
Thirty seconds later he was back at her side. With a bellow he kicked two fleshancs backward onto the main deck. Then he gave the ladder three swift cuts with his axe and severed it from the ship. He lifted it one-handed and tossed it behind him. Then he seized Thasha by the arm.
"Can ye climb?"
"Of course!"
The next thing she knew he was lifting her bodily and hurling her back at the mizzenmast rigging. Thasha cried out, caught hold of a shroud and turned to ask what he thought he was doing. But she held her tongue. The huge old man was making the same leap himself, axe in hand. With a grunt of pain he landed in the ratlines beside her.
"Up! Follow!" he snarled, and together they climbed.
The mast was deserted. "I could give the order," he said, "but there's no more blary time! He'll have my boat in minutes, the flamin' bastard! Climb!"
Sweating and swearing, he led her to the mizzen-top, some forty feet above the deck. But they did not stop there. Through the bolt-hole they squeezed and up again. Up and up, straight at the sun, until at eighty feet they reached the mizzen topgallant yard, the massive timber to which the rearmost mainsail of the Chathrand was joined.
"Don't you dare look down until I say so, girl!"
Out along the footropes the captain struggled, his face so red and angry she thought it would burst. She followed, hands shaking, groping along the yard like a worm. They were headed for its outermost tip.
Or what would have been the tip, without the studdingsails. Trying to catch the last breath of wind, Rose had ordered the rigging-out of a second yard, another twenty feet of timber to which a sail could be bent. It had all been in vain, but the yard and sail were still there. Rose hefted his axe.
"The chaps first, cut 'em loose! The yard has to fall free!"
She didn't understand; she didn't know what to cut, or how to do so without plummeting to her death. She was dizzy. Rose bellowed at her. But when he pointed at specific ropes she managed to saw at them, while he chopped farther out. At last the sail slid away.
Then Rose tossed his axe into the sea. He pointed at a pair of steel clamps. "Eye bolts, top and bottom!" he shouted. "Get 'em loose!"
This was easier. She had her clamp loose faster than he managed his. And then she looked down, and knew in an instant what Rose was thinking.
The studdingsail yard jutted past the Chathrand's rail. It reached, in fact, to within ten feet of the lifeboat.
"She's ready," said Rose. "But we have to help her, lass. Put that arm over the topgallant, so. Now crouch down and catch your own hand beneath." He demonstrated, and when Thasha obeyed he stripped away the second clamp.
The twenty-foot beam was loose now, resting atop the permanent spar with nothing keeping it from falling but its own great weight and the force of their arms.
"On three we slide her. Straight, straight! Like my harpoon, girl. You follow?"
She nodded. "I follow. Let's get him."
Rose counted. The spars were smooth-sanded. The tar coating them almost bubbled in the heat. When he said "Three!" she pushed with all her might, and Rose did the same. The spar shot forward off the end of the topgallant.
Down it pinwheeled, end over end. On deck the men fighting for their lives never saw its approach. Nor did Arunis. Only the little dog caught sight of the wooden missile. It gave a frightened Yip! and dashed to the boat's far end.
The yard nearly missed its mark. Half of it vanished into the sea. But the other half broke across the lifeboat's bow, standing the little craft on its nose and hurling Arunis bodily into the water.
"Now look at the deck," said Rose. "By the Gods' guts, you're a smart one."
The fleshancs had collapsed.
Ragged cheers went up from seaman and soldier alike. But their relief was short-lived.
Ramachni, running squirrel-like up the mainmast, looked down at the water and cried out: "He is coming! Throw them over the side! Obey me now or welcome death!"
This time not a man hesitated. They dragged, heaved and hurled the Volpek bodies over the opposite side, where they sank like bags of sand.
The water-weird gave a last, snake-like twist and melted into the sea.
The captain and Thasha were cheered anew when they reached the deck. But Rose waved sharply for silence and pushed to the rail.
Arunis lay in the bottom of his boat, which was clearly taking on water. His breath was labored and his face downcast. Suddenly he looked quite old.
"He is drained," whispered Ramachni. "To stir the dead requires immense power. He cannot have much left."
"Will you desist?" cried Rose.
The mage raised his head. "Oh no. You will drop a ladder, and I shall board, and then we shall bring out the Red Wolf. That is what will happen next."
"You're a madman," snarled Rose.
Arunis sat up at once. "Have you written to your parents lately, Rose? I should love to have a talk with you about those extraordinary letters, sent every week to people you know to be dead."
Rose took a halting step backward. His mouth went slack and one hand groped behind him, as if searching for some wall to lean against. When he spoke, his voice was so thin it might have belonged to another man.
"They talk to me at night," he said.
"And you call me mad!" Arunis laughed, getting to his feet. "They are dead! Your mother's deathsmoke habit killed her twenty years ago. Once, true, she nearly gave up the drug, through the simple use of golden swamp tears-"
"No!" screamed Rose at the top of lungs.
"— but you couldn't be bothered to find her a regular supply, and she went back to deathsmoke."
"Kill him!"
"Your father, of course, never forgave you. Without a wife-or a son he could call by that name-he had nothing to live for. He drowned himself. It's all written down in the Annals of the Quezan Islands. But what will be written about you, I wonder, Rose? The once-great skipper who finished his days in a madhouse, chattering with ghosts-"
"Leave him alone, you gloating pig!" Thasha shouted. The thought of anyone, even Rose, tormented with memories of the dead was more than she could stand.
Arunis was delighted to turn his attention to Thasha. "For your sake, Lady, I will do so. After all, I owe you so much. Your marriage will give the Shaggat's worshippers the sign they are waiting for. And you are also, right now, going to make it possible for me to come aboard."
Before Thasha could reply something terrible occurred: her mother's silver necklace came to life and began to strangle her. Those nearest saw the metal move like a snake, gather itself tight around her neck and squeeze. Pazel and Neeps caught her as she fell. They clawed at the necklace but found it strong as steel.
Thasha kicked and thrashed: she could not even scream.
"He's killing her!" Pazel cried.
Isiq waved madly at Drellarek's archers. "Shoot him! Shoot him dead! I command you!"
The archers looked at Drellarek, who nodded. They rushed forward, arrows to strings.
But Ramachni cried, "No!"
"Hear the rat-mage!" said Arunis. "If I die the necklace will go on choking her, to her death and a day beyond. All my enemies die thus, as your Emperor once condemned me to perish in a noose. And if Thasha or anyone else tries to remove the necklace, she will die. As she will now, old man, if you do not see that a ladder is dropped at once."
Thasha's face had turned a hideous purple. Her eyes were glazed. Pazel saw Neeps looking at him beseechingly, almost in tears. Was this the moment? What Master-Word would save her? He looked up at Ramachni, perched again on Hercуl's shoulder. You will have but one chance.
A sudden splash: all eyes turned forward. There stood Chadfallow, his face twisted in fury or despair. He had just rolled the boarding ladder down the Chathrand's flank.
Instantly Arunis turned his craft toward the ladder. At the same time, Thasha made a ghastly sound. She was breathing! Pazel tugged at the necklace: still savagely tight. It had loosened just enough to keep her alive.
Beneath the pain on her face was a terrible rage. Voiceless, her lips formed a name: Syrarys.
Arunis climbed with surprising quickness, holding his dog in one arm. No one moved to stop him. He reached the deck, swung over the rail and let the dog leap down. Smiling, he put out a hand to Chadfallow. But the doctor stepped back, out of reach.
"You do not care for my friendship?" Arunis chuckled. "No matter; it is your wisdom I count on, not your love. And you have chosen wisely, Doctor. Lady Thasha deserves to live."
"Sorcerer!"
The voice erupted from deep in the ship: a frightful, murderous voice.
Arunis' face took on a strange look of rapture. "My lord!" he cried. "Across world and void I come to thee! Through death's gate, by roads of darkness, wastes of years, I return!"
"Give it to me! Bring it forth now!"
Arunis made no reply. Instead, while the Shaggat went on howling demands, he walked calmly aft. Hundreds of men fell back at his approach, until at last he reached the little group surrounding Thasha.
"Permission to come aboard, Captain?" he said with a sneer.
Rose was deaf to his mockery. He stood apart, hands covering his eyes, trembling.
"I will take your silence for assent. Now hear me, all of you: Chathrand has a new master, and his name is Arunis. You thought to cancel this marriage, Isiq. That will never be. Your daughter will marry a Mzithrini, or die in torment before your eyes. And when she is wed this ship will sail for the Ruling Sea, and its rendezvous with war. Nothing can stop this from happening! If you do not trust me, trust Dr. Chadfallow."
"Trust him? Never again!" said Isiq. "I would sooner trust a crawly!"
"You are insulted, Doctor!" Arunis laughed. "But there is no time to waste. Go to the Shaggat Ness; unchain him and his sons. You will find the key on that idiot by the wheelhouse." He gestured contemptuously at Uskins. Then, barely pausing, he turned to Fiffengurt.
"In the doctor's cabin sits a crate. Bring it up. And have the blacksmith's forge hoisted to the deck as well, and a good fire built."
"What if I don't?" said Fiffengurt.
Arunis raised an eyebrow. Fiffengurt was shaking with fear. But still he managed to raise his voice defiantly, addressing the whole crew: "What if we don't, men? What if we swear to kill this cur and his Shaggat, even if he takes fifty of us with 'im, eh?"
The bravest men began to cheer, but Arunis shouted over them: "In that case I will kill Lady Thasha-and the Emperor will kill you all. Do you mean that no one has explained? Captain Rose?"
Rose said nothing. His back was bent, and his gaze far away.
"Well then, Sergeant Drellarek? Isn't it time you admitted what His Supremacy expects of his Turachs?"
Drellarek hesitated. Six hundred pairs of eyes were on him. "We are to keep the Shaggat alive," he said at last.
"And should any harm befall him?"
"We shall all be killed, with our families, upon return to Ether-horde. But we do not serve you, filth-mage."
"Nor do I seek your service, dog! Only recall your oath to the crown. Let no one approach His Holiness the Shaggat during the ceremony to come." He raised his voice to a shout. "You think you defeated Sandor Ott? His plan marches on! Should the Shaggat die, everyone aboard this ship will follow fast."
"But Ott thought you were dead!" said Uskins, peeping down from the quarterdeck. "You were never part of his plan!"
"That is true," said Arunis. "But I improved it-perfected it. None here can stand against me now."
Thasha, her voice a wounded rasp, said, "Ramachni can."
Arunis laughed once more. "Such faith the girl has in you, Ramachni! But I know you better. You have done too much in this world already-a healing charm I smell about you, to say nothing of your foolish freeing of Mr. Druffle. Any power left to you after that was wasted on the fleshancs. That is why I bothered with them, of course."
He stepped toward Ramachni, arms flung wide. "You, oppose me? Do it now, weasel! Save your friends!"
There it was, once more-that hint of fear in his voice. Yet Ramachni, claws tight on Hercуl's shoulder, bowed his head and said nothing.
"I knew it!" said Arunis. "There's no power left in him! Stay and watch my triumph, wizard: your helplessness will make it all the sweeter. You boys!"
He pointed suddenly at Neeps and Pazel, who froze like startled deer. He's got us, Pazel thought. Oh Rin! Which Master-Word?
But Arunis showed no sign of recognizing his former captives. "Draw a circle on the deck," he commanded. "Only I, the Shaggat and those I name may enter it during the ceremony. Sergeant Drellarek, your men will kill all others on the spot."
At noon precisely "the ceremony" began.
The first-class passengers, still locked behind the Money Gate, were the first to hear the great slouching, stomping footfalls. They drew back in horror: the augrongs, Refeg and Rer, were lumbering by, turning their fist-sized yellow eyes on the speechless humans in their finery. They had only budged from their den in the forward hold to help occasionally with anchor-lifting. Now they were squeezing up the main ladderway to the topdeck, where Arunis beckoned impatiently. When they stood at last in the sun they shuffled behind him, docile as hounds.
Below, a woman screamed. While their eyes had been on the augrongs another figure had lumbered down the passage, escorted by a dozen marines. The Shaggat Ness moved like some slow, thick-bodied carnivore. His scarred face twitched like a victim of palsy, and his clouded red eyes looked at them with such hate that even those who had not quailed at the augrongs fell back in terror. Pacu Lapadolma made the sign of the Tree. Walking behind him, the Shaggat's yellow-robed sons saw her gesture and began to mutter of executions.
By Arunis' decree, the entire crew was gathered on deck. Officers and tarboys, sailors and Turach warriors stood side by side, helpless. When the Shaggat stepped out into the light they stumbled backward, like a mob of children who had woken a bear.
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