“Not a bad idea,” Padan admitted. “Come on board. There are a few things you should know.”
Gunda climbed up the rope ladder to the deck of the Victory, and he and his boyhood friend clasped hands. “We’ve missed you, Gunda,” Padan said. “You really startled me with that little fishing boat. It looks a lot like the one that belongs to Veltan, and I wasn’t really expecting to ever see that one again.”
“Oh? Has Veltan sailed away?”
“It wasn’t Veltan who sailed off in that sloop. Scrawny Jalkan finally made the mistake we’ve all been waiting for. Narasan revoked his commission right there on the spot, and I dragged him down here to the beach in chains.”
“That’s the best news I’ve heard in years,” Gunda said, grinning broadly. “What did the little scumbag do that our glorious leader found so offensive?”
“He insulted the wife of one of Veltan’s close friends.”
“That must have been some insult.”
“It was enough. Narasan almost fainted dead away when he heard it, and he revoked Jalkan’s commission.”
“That sort of makes this whole war one of the nicer things in life, doesn’t it? What’s Veltan’s sloop got to do with all this, though?”
“I was just getting to that. I brought the rascal down here to the beach and locked him in what I thought was a secure compartment down in the hold of the Victory here. He was chained to the wall, and the compartment door was barred from the outside. I was absolutely positive that there was no way he could escape, but I found out this morning just how wrong I was. Somehow, he managed to wriggle out of the chains, push the bar away from the door, and slip over the side of the ship. Veltan’s sloop was anchored not far away, and when I woke up this morning, Jalkan—and sloop—were both missing.”
“Man, are you going to get yelled at!” Gunda exclaimed.
“I know,” Padan replied glumly. “It won’t be the first time, but I’m fairly sure that Narasan’s going to rake me over the coals until the cows come home this time. I really blundered, Gunda, and Narasan will probably come down on me with both feet.”
“Poor baby,” Gunda said with mock sympathy. “Where do I go to find our glorious leader?”
“He’s probably still in Veltan’s castle—in the map-room, most likely.” Padan paused. “I don’t suppose I could persuade you to keep what I just told you to yourself, could I?”
“That wouldn’t be at all proper, Padan,” Gunda replied, “and I’ve always been big on propriety.”
Commander Narasan was seriously discontented when Gunda told him that Jalkan had escaped. “Why didn’t Padan post guards on that slimy little rascal?” he demanded.
“You’ll have to ask Padan about that, Narasan,” Gunda replied. “Right now, I need to know just exactly where we want Andar to put the army on shore. They’ve probably left Castano by now, so it’s likely that I’ll meet him somewhere in the channel that comes up through the ice zone.”
“Let’s go to Veltan’s map-room,” Narasan suggested. “There’s a sizeable river mouth a few days to the north of here, and we’ll want the army to come ashore quite a ways up that river.” He paused. “How did you manage to get so far ahead of the main fleet, Gunda?” he asked.
Gunda shrugged. “I picked up a nice little fishing yawl down in Castano,” he replied. “Her name’s the Albatross, and she can go almost twice as fast as any other Trogite ship I’ve ever seen.”
Narasan winced. “How much did you pay for her?”
“Couldn’t really say, old boy,” Gunda replied in an offensively lofty tone. “Andar’s got the key to the army treasury, so I left all the haggling to him, while I went down to the harbor to persuade the Albatross that she was supposed to sail along in the water and not try to get up and fly.”
“Very funny, Gunda.”
“I’m glad you liked it, old friend.”
“You’ve got a bit of a problem, cousin,” Pantal said the next morning when Gunda rowed out to the Victory.
“Oh?”
“I hope you weren’t planning to leave here this morning.”
“That’s sort of what I had in mind,” Gunda replied.
“Right now, about the only thing that’s keeping your yawl off the bottom of the harbor is that rope you tied to the Victory’s anchor chain.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Come and look for yourself,” Pantal said, pushing a rope ladder over the side of his ship.
Gunda climbed up the ladder and followed his cousin over to the other side of the Victory.
He stopped and stared in utter disbelief at the Victory’s anchor-chain. As Pantal had said, the rope from the bow of the Albatross was tautly hanging straight down, and Gunda could see the hazy outline of his yawl under the water.
“What happened to her?” he exclaimed.
“I think the word most people use is ‘sank,’” Pantal replied.
“Did some rascal sneak out here and chop a hole in her bottom?”
Pantal shook his head. “I had men on watch last night. Nobody came near the Victory. Who sold that tub to you?”
“An old fisherman in Castano.”
“Let me guess. He was more than a bit crippled, and even more drunk.”
“You know him?”
“Not by name, but there are a lot of people like him in Castano. He was getting along in years, and he had all those aches and pains that old men are always complaining about. Have you ever heard the word ‘caulk,’ Gunda?”
“Not that I remember. What does it mean?”
“Quite a bit of unpleasant work, cousin. Ships of any size are built out of boards. Have you noticed that?”
“Don’t try to be funny, Pantal.”
“No matter how tight the shipbuilders jam the boards that form the hull of a ship together, water will start to seep through after a while. Sailors deal with that problem with a hammer, a chisel, and several bales of hemp. You ram the hemp between the boards and then poke and hammer it until it’s well seated. The water will still try to seep in, but you want it to. When the hemp gets wet, it swells, and that’s what seals up the hull. After you’ve caulked her hull, the Albatross will float like a well-sealed jug.”
“How often will I have to do that?”
“Every year, usually. If you happen to hit rough water fairly often, you might have to do it twice a year. Now you probably understand just why that old fisherman was willing to sell you his yawl. Just the thought of caulking her again probably gave him nightmares.”
“Cousin, I haven’t got the faintest idea of how to go about doing something like that,” Gunda confessed.
“I didn’t really think you would, cousin. I’ll have my men take care of it for you—but it’s going to cost you.”
“Somehow I knew that was coming,” Gunda said sourly.
“Nothing in the whole world comes free, cousin,” Pantal said. “Why don’t we go back to my cabin and talk about the price, shall we?”
Pantal’s men raised the Albatross to the surface of the harbor, bailed her out, and then hauled her on into the beach. Then they began the long, slow process of caulking up her hull.
“You’re really quite lucky, Gunda,” Pantal said. “Did you have to bail her out very many times when you were coming up here?”
Gunda shrugged. “Two or three times, if I remember correctly. The old fisherman told me that she was sort of leaky, and that I should keep an eye on that. What was it that made her finally fill up with water and sink like she did?”
Pantal shrugged. “It could have been any one of quite a few things—colder water, a large wave slapping into her on one side or the other, or a sizeable length of caulking giving away all at once. It’s hard to say for sure. You could very well have drowned out there, you know.”
“When I get back to Castano, I think I’ll look that old fisher-man up and have a few words with him,” Gunda growled. “How long’s this likely to take?”
“Several days, anyway.
”
“Couldn’t you put more men to work on it? It’s sort of important right now for the Albatross to be seaworthy again.”
“They’d just be getting in each other’s way, Gunda. She’s not all that big, so there isn’t really enough room in her hull for two dozen men or more.”
The days seemed to drag on as Pantal’s men recaulked the Albatross, and Gunda spent most of his time in Veltan’s map-room studying the region where the war here would most probably take place.
It was becoming increasingly obvious that Narasan would need the rest of his army here very soon. The Albatross had seemed to be the best answer, but Gunda was definitely starting to have second thoughts about that.
2
She’s tight now, cousin,” Pantal advised Gunda late in the afternoon several days later, “and I think she might surprise you. She hasn’t been treated very well for several years, but now that she’s been recaulked, she’ll go through the water like a hot knife through butter.”
“I hope so,” Gunda replied. “I’d really like to get back to Castano—like about four days ago.”
“I don’t think she’ll go quite that fast, Gunda, but you never know.”
“I’ll do my best to find out. I’ve been watching the night sky for the last few days, and we’ve got a full moon now. If the sky stays clear, I won’t have to drop anchor when the sun goes down.”
“That isn’t the best idea in the world, cousin,” Pantal said a bit dubiously. “If you’re going to try sailing at night, stay a goodly distance away from any coast or islands. The Albatross doesn’t draw much water, but still . . .”
“I’ll be careful, cousin,” Gunda assured him, “but things are likely to start getting tight around here before too much longer, and Narasan’s going to need the rest of his army here, not down in Castano.”
Pantal’s assessment of the potential of the restored Albatross turned to be a slight understatement. Sometimes it seemed that she almost flew as Gunda raced on down the east coast of Veltan’s Domain. When he reached the tip of the peninsula jutting out from the south coast, however, he found that he had to fight the prevailing wind. Somewhat reluctantly, he lowered the sail and fell back on the oars.
Fortunately, the wind changed direction before the blisters on his hands started bleeding, and he raised the sail again.
Then he discovered that there was a steady current moving in a westerly direction along the north side of the ice zone, and he reached the channel that led south in just under two days. Of course, he was taking advantage of the full moon now, so the actual sailing time probably wasn’t much different than it had been when he’d come up from Castano. He was more than a little sandy-eyed as he started down along the channel, but he’d discovered that he could get by on no more than four or five hours of sleep a night. He was always tired, of course, but he promised himself several good nights of sleep after he reached Castano.
It was late in the afternoon of his fourth day out from Veltan’s harbor when he saw the north coast of the Empire low on the southern horizon. “Well, well,” he murmured to the Albatross, “You done real good, baby. I’m proud of you. As soon as we reach the harbor, we’ll be able to catch up on our sleep. Won’t that be nice?”
Then Gunda laughed just a bit wryly. “I think maybe my load’s shifting again. I almost expected her to answer me. I really need some sleep.”
He was jarred back into complete wakefulness as soon as he entered the harbor of Castano, however. As closely as he could determine, every pier and wharf along the entire waterfront of the city had several broad-beamed ships tied to it, and the men on board those ships were all wearing the distinctive red uniforms of Church soldiers.
“What are they doing here?” Gunda exclaimed. “Those idiots!”
He beached the Albatross some distance up the coast from the central waterfront, chained her to a large tree, and then went around the city wall to the army encampment just to the south of the city. He went on through the gate and entered the headquarters building.
“Where have you been, Gunda?” Andar demanded in his deep, rumbling voice.
“I got held up for a while up in the Land of Dhrall,” Gunda replied. “What’s going on here in Castano? Every place I looked I saw a Church ship.”
“They aren’t talking to anybody, Gunda,” Andar replied. “The Church armies started marching in about three days ago, and then that Church fleet sailed into the harbor. They’ve taken over the entire waterfront, so there’s no way I can load our men on the ships I hired. I’m not sure just exactly where those Church armies are going, but it looks to me like they’re planning a major campaign somewhere.”
Gunda started to swear—extensively.
“Was it something I said?” Andar asked.
“Jalkan!” Gunda snapped.
“Please, Gunda, don’t use that kind of language. There are children nearby.”
“It’s about time for them to grow up, then.” Gunda managed to get his temper under control and he told Andar about Narasan’s revocation of Jalkan’s commission and the little scoundrel’s imprisonment in one of the Trogite ships.
“I’d say that it’s time for a celebration, then.”
“Not really. Somehow, Jalkan managed to get loose, and then he stole Veltan’s sloop and sailed away. We both know exactly where he went, don’t we?”
“In the light of what’s been going on here in Castano, I’d say that he most probably went to the central convenium in Kaldacin, and he was more than likely to have been spouting the word ‘gold’ before he even got there, and it’s quite obvious that some of the higher-ranking churchmen took him at his word. That does sort of explain just why the Church has expropriated every single wharf here in Castano, wouldn’t you say?”
“And there’s not much we can do about it. Can you come up with any kind of estimate of just how many Church soldiers are boarding those ships?”
“Church armies have distinctive banners, just like real armies do. I’ve had people watching, and so far there’s evidence that there are five Church armies being loaded on those ships in the harbor.”
Gunda winced. “That’s about a half-million men, Andar. We’ve already got one war on our hands, we definitely don’t need another one. Have you caught any hints about just when that church fleet’s likely to sail out of the harbor?”
“I’d say probably sometime in the next two days,” Andar replied. “There’s something else you should know about, Gunda. Yesterday, a couple of ships with black sails arrived, and the men on board those ships conferred at some length with the higher-ranking churchmen. We all know what that means, don’t we?”
“Slavers?” Gunda said. “What are they—?” He broke off. “Of course!” he exclaimed. “They’re not planning to rush up the east coast to confront Narasan. Slaves are almost as valuable as gold, and the Church armies won’t have to fight anybody to gather up potential slaves—not in a region where all the tools and weapons are made of stone, anyway.”
“You could be right, Gunda. I’d say that it’s too bad that the pretty lady’s husband didn’t go a step or two further than just a punch in the mouth. A sword in the belly or an axe right between the eyes would have solved this problem before it even started, wouldn’t you say?”
“I met him—briefly. He’s one of those people who just ooze decency out of every pore. Evidently, a punch in the mouth was about as far as he felt he should go.”
“Decent people can be so inconvenient at times,” Andar complained.
As Andar had predicted, the Church fleet began to leave the harbor of Castano two days later, and Gunda put his uniform aside, dressed himself in some scruffy clothes, laid some rolled-up fishnet across the bow of the Albatross, and sailed out of the harbor in a generally northern direction. He easily outdistanced the wallowing Church ships and reached the floating ice zone not long after noon the following day. He put out his nets about a half-mile from the southern end of Veltan’s channel, and then he waited.
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It was almost dark when the first of the red-sailed Church ships reached the mouth of the channel and dropped their anchors. “What took them so long?” Gunda murmured to the Albatross.
As he’d been almost positive they would, the Church ships hauled anchor as the sun rose and sailed on into the channel. “Well,” Gunda muttered to the Albatross, “that answers that question, doesn’t it, baby?”
She didn’t exactly answer him, but she did bob slightly in what seemed to him to be a sign of her agreement.
“It’s time to go on back to Castano, baby. We’d better let Andar know what the Church people are up to.”
The Treasured One: Book Two of The Dreamers Page 29
