But this meant their pace was slowed, and Cerah did not like that, unavoidable as it was. Several times she watched as a rider dove to the surface of the water, for indeed a few men had been cast overboard by the pitching waves. In each case, they were quickly recovered, though not a few sailors were uncertain that being held in a dragon’s claw was a better fate than slipping beneath the waves. More than one wizard had to hold back laughter at seeing the frightened expression on the face of the man they reclaimed from the sea.
As bad as it got, however, Cerah could tell that the storm was not as intense as the one they had survived on the trip to Melsa. For the hundreds of ships sailing together, only a small handful of incidents arose which required the wizards’ response. After the first few rescues, she was confident that her brethren could handle the situation, and she kept her attention focused squarely on the Marta.
“He promised you that he would not dive in to save anyone,” Tressida said, keenly aware of her match-mate’s reason for maintaining scrutiny of the flagship.
“I know,” she said, “but I trust him about as far as I can throw him.”
“Well, then, all is well. You could easily throw him a league or farther, using magic,” the dragon said, laughing.
“That’s not what I meant. I can’t even use clichés around you!” Cerah protested, chuckling nonetheless.
“He is growing up, darling. Slurr the milk-hauler, laborer, or deckhand is no more. You appointed him General of the Army, but you did not make him that. He has made himself general. He understands more, sees more, and knows more than he ever has. Every life under his command is precious to him, and he realizes the immensity of his responsibility to them and to you. He is not really a big stupid lug, you know.”
“Of course, he isn’t.” Cerah, flying low enough to see everything that was happening on the Marta, watched as Slurr aided Admiral Renton’s long-time first mate Krigar in directing the men, as Renton himself manned the helm. She saw the men and women eagerly running to follow his direction. Even seasoned sailors showed absolute respect to the former deckhand. Slurr had become, almost without her realizing it, a great leader of men. Tressida was right. She had appointed Slurr to lead the army. She’d recognized characteristics that she knew made him the right man for the job, but she also knew that at first, he did not share her confidence. Now, without even trying, he exuded assurance and determination. He had become the general she had envisioned.
“No,” Cerah said finally, “he will not dive into the water again. Too many people need him now.”
“And yet only one person truly matters to him in the end,” the golden dragon said. “He has put on the mantle of authority, but only because you asked him to.”
From behind them came a great crashing sound. Two of the ships had allowed themselves to draw too closely to one another, and a particularly large surge had caused them to collide. They struck each other broadside. The damage was minimal, but several men needed to be fished from the water, having lost their footing upon impact. Cerah turned Tressida and flew down to snatch a sailor from the waves. Then she shouted to the captains, “Too close! You must maintain a greater separation!” Both looked abashed, having already realized their error. Being chided by the Chosen One didn’t improve their bearing. Cerah did not wish to have a negative effect on the morale of her forces, so she added, “I know you can maneuver through the Strait. Keep your heads up. We will prevail.” They nodded and refocused their attention on safely negotiating the swells.
In general, the armada was dealing with the gale as well as could be expected. Cerah scanned the sky and it appeared to her that the clouds might be thinning. Indeed, within the hour the force of the wind had begun to diminish. They had been fighting the ocean for most of the day, but as night approached, she saw Renton order the Marta’s sails to full. Behind him the remainder of the ships followed his lead, creating a great carousel of color as the great expanses of canvas caught the wind and billowed out. To Cerah’s eye, it looked like hundreds of washer-women hanging their sheets out to dry at the same time. It was beautiful in its own way.
As she returned her view to the front of the column, she saw that they were in fact about to emerge from the Strait of Aman, which meant both that the ships would have more room to maneuver and that they were well on their way to Sejira. Kern flew alongside her.
“There are a few hundred miles of open ocean ahead of us now. The wind is no longer dangerous, but it is still substantial. I am no sea captain, but I’d be willing to guess that we should reach Sejira in about eighteen hours,” he said.
“Not that I doubt your calculations,” Cerah said, “but I’d like to confer with Renton and get his estimate as well.”
“By all means,” said Kern, not the least bit offended. “With any luck, he may know a trick or two to shave some further time off the last leg.”
Cerah once again directed Tress down alongside the Marta. Renton was still at the wheel, no worse for the wear. She thought back to the far more serious storm through which they had passed on their way from Illyria to Melsa. Renton had, during that typhoon, lashed himself to the helm and, by the time the storm was over, had been severely bloodied and depleted by the experience.
“Hail, Admiral!” she called to him.
“Cerah! We have survived both the storm and the passage through the strait. No lives lost, I am told, and only superficial damage to the two ships that swapped timber,” he said. As they spoke, Slurr joined him on the bridge. “And look! Your husband honored your request that he not leap overboard.”
“I told you I would behave,” Slurr said, laughing.
“You did more than behave,” Renton said. “Your guidance kept the men safe and the ship sailing true.”
“Well, I think your helmsman skills had a little to do with that as well,” the young man replied.
“Krigar told me you acted like an old salt! And to think less than a year ago you were nothing more than a land lubber, loading cargo into my holds!”
“Thank you for not giving me any more to worry about than I already have,” Cerah said to her husband. “Admiral, I wanted to get your thoughts on how long it will take us to reach Sejira.”
Renton considered for a moment before answering. “With this wind,” he said, looking to the billowing sails, “conventional wisdom would say about nineteen to twenty hours.”
“Kern’s guess was roughly on target,” Cerah said.
“Yes, but that’s using conventional wisdom,” Renton went on. “I happen to know a little secret. If we head east upon fully clearing the strait, there is a current which runs due north at this time of year. I first encountered it many years ago, when running goods between Jenoobia and Sejira. I will have no trouble finding it again and settling the fleet into it. It will be as though we are going downhill, all the way to the eastern coast of the continent. The stream will get us there in no more than thirteen hours.”
“Excellent!” cried Cerah, clapping her hands. “Admiral, you never disappoint! Carry on. And keep this ‘old salt’ busy,” she said, pointing to Slurr.
“He no longer needs my orders to be useful. I’m sure he will find many tasks to keep him from being idle,” the admiral said, giving Slurr an affectionate swat on the arm.
Cerah blew her husband a kiss and then led Tressida back to the altitude at which the remainder of the flight was cruising.
Slurr remained with Renton. “Admiral, thank you for your kind words. I don’t think I was all that helpful. I was just asking the men to do what the situation required.”
“That, my friend, is the definition of being helpful. Keeping the men on task, especially during adverse conditions, is the key to survival.”
“But here is the thing,” Slurr said. “For all my leadership and my skill at organization and tactic, I have yet to raise a hand to the enemy. Every battle that has been fought, lost or won, has happened without my being anywhere near it. I’m not much of a warrior after all.”
&nb
sp; Renton would have none of it. “Balderdash!” he shouted.
Slurr smiled. “Did you really just say ‘balderdash’?”
“Well, I was being delicate. My first inclination was to shout ‘agorrah-shit!’ You may be untested, but I know a warrior’s heart burns in you. When you finally find yourself in combat, I would not want to be the creature opposing you.”
“Do you really think I will fight well?” the young man asked.
“Slurr! You feel responsible for every man under your command. If you can defend even one of your warriors, you will do it with a demon’s fire. I believe this with all I am worth. And if that is not enough, just picture your enemy attempting to touch Cerah.”
Slurr’s bearing changed at once. “No one touches Cerah,” he said.
“Exactly. I have heard that you like to repeat that phrase,” Renton said with a smirk. “But I know it to be a truth that extends to the core of your existence. And you are not without experience in dealing with Surok’s minions. The story of your killing of two of the Silestra assassins isn’t exactly a secret, you know.”
“I would have killed all four with my bare hands if need be, before I let them hurt Cerah.”
“And that, my friend, is why I have no doubts about your warrior credentials. Before very much longer, the men will be seated together, talking among themselves and saying, ‘Did you see the general? Did you see him vanquish an entire column of monsters single-handedly?’”
“Whoa! No pressure there! Go easy on me, Admiral!”
“Bah! You will do all that and deeds far greater. Mark my words.”
Slurr stood silently beside the one-eyed sailor for several minutes. Finally, he said, “I am not sure I am worthy of such confidence, but I am not unfamiliar with its like. I believe in Cerah just as deeply. And I believe in you. The difference is, you have both proven yourselves.”
“Two Silestra! With a dagger!” the sailor insisted. “Slurr, that is an accomplishment to which any veteran of the Battle of Kal Berea would raise a tankard.”
The blonde boy again found himself smiling, despite his own misgivings. “A tankard sounds pretty good right now, doesn’t it?”
“Aye. And we will share many as we relive your many acts of heroism, before all is said and done!” Renton declared. “Now, go boss some sailors around. I have a slipstream to locate.”
“As you say, Admiral,” Slurr said, saluting his friend playfully.
Renton returned the salute with absolute seriousness, and Slurr could not help but feel encouraged.
Within the hour, Renton had indeed run down the current. Passing word through the armada by literally calling from one ship to another, he instructed the captains under his command to keep the ships in a long, narrow column. The current was nearly a half-league wide, and he instructed the sailors to make use of the full breadth of it so that they did not steal the wind from the sails of the ships near them.
As the vessels settled into formation, the sailors could immediately feel the difference, as the current caught the hulls and began to pull them along. Additionally, the wind remained true; the sails strained to contain it.
From the sky, the wizards could see the increased progress as the boats cut through the water. Cerah once again considered her armada. As she looked back over her shoulder, she saw standards of every color rippling, each one representing the ships’ home ports. The flag of Illyria, which she knew well, was amply represented, but it was joined by nine others, as well as countless local variations. A few even unabashedly flew pirate colors, as the buccaneers who were willing to join the cause had been given amnesty by the Chosen One. (She had nonetheless instructed a few of her more seasoned wizards to keep an eye on them. Old habits die hard, she reasoned.)
We did not know about Surok’s black ships. Now we do. We did not know he rides a giant dragon. Now we do. We did not know that the sky boils black when he, himself, is present. Now we do. One after another, his advantages disappear. And now we have an advantage. He has lost his ability to anticipate my actions, as the hate that was his beacon is no more. When we arrive at Thresh and take up our position, he will come thinking the people there are defenseless. We will be waiting. I will be waiting.
They continued through the night, racing toward the eastern coast of Sejira. That is where the grasslands grew, and that is where the city of Thresh was located. The defenders of Sejira would be waiting there. But Cerah’s plan was to bring the armada farther north, unload the ships, and then march the army closer to Thresh. When Surok’s forces arrived, they would not see the ships waiting and would not be forewarned of the army’s presence.
Her plan was sound, she knew, and Ma’uzzi had helped her disguise herself from Surok’s distant vision. But something bothered her yet. She could not reconcile herself to the void that she felt within herself. All her life she had been a creature of passion. When she had danced, she did so not just with her body, but with her entire essence. When she sat alone on Mount Arnon, railing against her father for sending her away, she was consumed by her anger and resentment. When she realized that she loved Slurr, she found a new depth to her soul that she hadn’t known existed previously, and she loved with an intensity that was almost painful, so complete and all-encompassing it was. And when she learned the true meaning of hatred, after Surok had murdered her brother Beru and, as she had learned later, her sister Ketah, after Zenk, a wizard, had turned traitor against his kind, she hated with a ferocity that chilled those near her.
But now all of that was gone. Of course, she still loved her husband; nothing could change that. But the love did not consume her. It was there, she knew…she insisted! But like every other emotion, once deep and often almost too rich, what she really felt, more than anything, was a steely gray steadiness. Yes, that was the word. A flat evenness. Steadiness which had no dimension, no depth. There was no passion.
She felt that this was Ma’uzzi’s plan, his gift to her. It was shielding her from Surok’s prescience. But, thinking beyond her immediate situation, beyond the war, beyond the inevitable confrontation with the Anger of Pilka, she wondered if this is how she would live the rest of her life. Had Ma’uzzi taken her passion for living permanently? Would she never again rile at injustice? Would she never again be allowed to give herself completely over to the dance that she cherished so much? Would her love for her husband be a long, level certainty, devoid of the deep burning ardor that she had felt so deeply, but ultimately so briefly?
She shook her head, clearing the cobwebs that her deep pondering had caused to form at the edges of her awareness. Too much thinking! she said to herself.
Tressida, of course, heard the thought. “You often think too much,” the queen said. “Sometimes you have to just open your mouth and let the fire come forth. You can think about what you’ve burned after the fact.”
“I like that,” Cerah said aloud to her match-mate. “Yes. I’ll worry about what’s been burned later.”
In the distance, against the black of night, rose a blacker form. “Sejira,” Tressida said. “We are no more than an hour from our goal.”
Cerah’s eyes were not as keen as the dragon’s and she could not make out the continent in the night, but she knew that Tressida could see it clearly, and if she said they were near, they were.
Time to open my mouth and let the fire come forth, she thought as they flew on through the last of the long, murky night.
Chapter 18
“She has gone dark”
Slurr sat on a low stool in a circle of fifty men. These were his division captains, and they were listening to him explain how he wished them to deploy. Cerah, upon reaching the spot to the north of the city of Thresh which Renton had indicated would be the best place to unload the ships, had flown Tressida toward the port city until she spotted a vast expanse of grassland which started growing just beyond the beach that lined the coast and extended for many miles inland. It had looked, to her waking eye, very much like the vista she had seen in her visi
on when she had witnessed the battle play out in her spark. It was to this area that the army had marched, and it was there that Slurr now parlayed with his commanders.
“I begin by stating plainly that I recognize that I have not yet met the enemy in battle, while all of you have. While you were fighting to save Kal Berea, I was completing my return from the Frozen South. So, what I’m preparing to say to you is based totally on what I have learned from speaking to many among you individually, as well as the wizard counselors and my wife. Your collective intelligence will be the basis for my battle plan.”
A man named Sardo Neems, the commander of the defending army of Sejira spoke up. “Not to contradict the general,” he said, “but we who were tasked with the defense of this continent have yet to see battle either. What’s more, it is well known that your hands have been blackened with Silestran blood. So, don’t feel as though you have to apologize.”
From around the circle, interjections of agreement reached Slurr’s ears, and he smiled. “I stand corrected, friend Sardo,” he said. “At any rate, from the many stories you have told me of the Battle of Kal Berea, I have made some decisions which will affect the manner in which we conduct battle in the future.”
Slurr watched as several of his men leaned forward, as if to better hear him speak. “It appeared that when Surok’s forces disembarked from the dark ships, they did so in a particular order, with the karvats attacking first. My guess is that they are seen both as the most dispensable portion of the army and as a dreadful arm with which to soften our opposition. Their fearsome strength enables them to cut a wide swath through our front lines.
“But you also told me they are clumsy and slow. Knowing this, I asked each of you to select from among your ranks the most agile and athletic of your warriors to form into several brigades whose sole purpose will be to outmaneuver these sluggish clods and cut them down before they can do any damage. Their formidable power will be neutralized by our quickness and dexterity.”
Many Hidden Rooms (Cerah of Quadar Book 2) Page 27
