Into The Void

by Nigel Findley

  Teldin nodded. More assumptions.

  Teldin had hardly noticed – after all, he’d had more important things on his mind – but clouds had been gathering, filling the sky. For a while, the sun had been shining down through a break in the cloud cover, in parallel beams that had seemed to spotlight the harbor like a bull’s-eye lantern. The sun finally had slipped behind a cloud, and the sky had darkened. A cold and miserable drizzle began to fall. Fitting, Teldin found himself thinking.

  He half-stood, careful of the boat’s balance. The Probe was directly ahead, now less than a bow shot away. He could see movement on deck and thought he recognized a large figure on the forecastle as Aelfred Silverhorn. Wouldn’t Aelfred still be ashore, looking for him? Teldin wondered. Or does he have reason not to look for me? He shook his head. That was paranoia again. He had to trust Aelfred, otherwise there was no hope left at all. The fishing boat drew closer.

  Rianna touched his arm. “How are we going to do this?” she asked.

  Teldin had been struggling with the same question. He looked again at the Probe. Yes, it was Aelfred on the foredeck. “I’ll go up alone,” he told her. “I’m going to talk to Aelfred.”

  Her eyes were troubled. “Do you trust him?”

  “I’ve got to,” he said.

  She nodded, accepting that. “I’ll come with you.”

  “No,” he told her. “Stay in the boat. I think it’ll go better if I speak to him alone.”

  She nodded again, a little unwillingly. “If things start to go bad, just yell,” she said. She smiled grimly. “You’ll be surprised how fast I’ll be there to help you.”

  He squeezed her hand in silent thanks.

  “Ahoy, fishing boat!” A familiar voice echoed across the water. Aelfred leaned against the main deck rail, hands cupped around his mouth. “State your business.”

  Teldin closed his eyes for a moment – no longer than a blink – and let his false face fall away, then he threw the hood of his cloak back from his head and rose to his feet. The boat rocked alarmingly, but Rianna held his arm to steady him. “Teldin Moore,” he called back. “Permission to come alongside?”

  “Permission granted.” He could hear the relief in Aelfred’s voice. “Just where in the Nine Hells have you been?”

  The sellswords obviously had some experience working with boats. The small fishing vessel drew smoothly alongside the hammership. The port side oarsmen shipped their oars, and the boat bumped gently against the Probe’s hull. Immediately, a rope ladder rattled into the longboat’s scuppers. Aelfred was leaning over the hammership rail, ready to give Teldin a hand up.

  Teldin gave Rianna a last, reassuring smile, then clambered up the ladder. As he neared the top, Aelfred’s big fist grasped his wrist, and the burly warrior hauled him up over the gunwale rail as if he’d weighed no more than a child. Aelfred’s face was split in a broad, lopsided grin. He wrapped his arms around Teldin in a hug strong enough to force the air from the smaller man’s lungs with a loud huff.

  “By the gods, it’s good to see you alive,” the first mate said gruffly as he released Teldin. “I wasn’t sure I would set eyes on you again.”

  Teldin smiled at his friend. The big man’s sincerity was undeniable. How could he ever have doubted him? The relief that washed over him was enough to bring tears to his eyes.

  Aelfred stepped back. No, limped back. For the first time, Teldin noticed that there was a bulky field dressing on the warrior’s right thigh. The first mate saw the direction of his gaze and smiled wryly. “Aye,” he growled, “I had a little mishap."

  "What happened?”

  “What didn’t happen?” Aelfred grumbled. “When you didn’t come back to the auction, I finally persuaded Estriss to go looking for you. Estriss had bought a couple of pots and boxes and insisted on dragging them along with us.” Teldin mirrored Aelfred’s grin. He could easily picture the disguised illithid weighed down with his precious items. “I knew which way you’d left,” Aelfred went on, “so we followed. We stepped out into the alley and a couple of men jumped us, just like that.”

  “Describe them,” Teldin cut in sharply.

  Aelfred gave him a questioning look, but obeyed. “I only really saw one,” he answered, “the bastard who put two feet of steel into my thigh. Real nasty type: face like a rat, and fought like a cornered rat, too.” He shot Teldin a speculative look. “You know him?”

  That could only have been Spak. “I know him,” he said quietly. “Did you kill them?”

  “Aye,” Aelfred replied, a little uncomfortably. “They didn’t give us any choice. All-out attack, no chance for parlay.” He shook his head. “Anyway, no matter what you farm boys think, that kind of thing doesn’t normally happen in cities. It had to mean that you were in deep trouble. I wanted to go looking for you, but my leg was bleeding pretty badly. Estriss ordered me back to the ship.” He grinned ruefully. “I’m afraid I was a little insubordinate. He nearly had to drag me back. Good thing he did; I passed out on the way.”

  “Are you all right now?”

  Aelfred slapped his wounded thigh – but not too hard, Teldin noticed. “Mending nicely. They poured a potion or two down me. I won’t be doing the hornpipe for the next couple of days, but at least it’ll hold my weight now.”

  “What happened then?”

  “Estriss was worried about you,” Aelfred continued, “almost as worried as I was. He sent most of the crew ashore to find out what happened to you, your friends the gnomes in the lead.” He paused. “What did happen to you?”

  Teldin shook his head. “I’ll tell you when I’ve got time.” He looked around the ship. There weren’t many crewmen visible. “Have you got enough crew to set sail?”

  “Sail, no,” the mate replied. “Fly, yes. Why?”

  Teldin took a deep breath. This is it, he told himself. “I need to get to the Nebulon,” he said quietly. “I need to go now.”

  “Well.” Aelfred was silent for a moment. “I’ll call Estriss from below.” He started to turn away, but Teldin grabbed his shoulder.

  “Aelfred.” The big warrior turned back. “Aelfred,” he repeated, “wait. I … I learned something. I think Estriss may be …” He took another deep, calming breath. “I think Estriss is involved with the people who are after the cloak.”

  The first mate stiffened. “What?”

  “There’s a group of mind flayers who are after the cloak,” Teldin explained. He struggled to keep his voice steady, unemotional. “I think Estriss is in with them. Or, at least,” he added, feeling it was vital that he tell as much of the truth as he knew, “he might be. I’m afraid he is.” Aelfred was silent. “We talked about coincidences,” Teldin went on earnestly. “Remember? What are the odds of meeting another ship in wildspace? Next to zero, you said. Remember?”

  Aelfred nodded, a little unwillingly. “Aye,” he said.

  “What was the Probe doing in Krynnspace, Aelfred? Why did Estriss want to go there?”

  The burly warrior was silent for a dozen heartbeats. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “He never told me.”

  “Did you put down on a planet?” Teldin pressed.

  “Yes, one of the moons of Zivilyn.”

  “Why?”

  Aelfred shrugged. “There was another ship there,” he said, “somebody that Estriss had arranged to meet on business. I don’t know who, or what kind of business.”

  “Why did you sail to Krynn, then?” Teldin asked urgently. He struggled to recall the conversations he’d had with the gnomes about the makeup of the Krynnish system. “It’s a long way from Zivilyn, isn’t it?”

  “Aye,” Aelfred answered quietly, “about six days.”

  “And did you land on Krynn?”

  “No.”

  Teldin nodded. The further he went into this, the more doubt turned to certainty. Estriss had to be playing a deeper game, following his own agenda. Once again Teldin felt the icy knot of fear in his stomach. “Why did Estriss say it was necessary to approach
Krynn?” he asked.

  “He didn’t say.”

  “You just sailed near Krynn, saw the longboat being attacked by pirates, and you saved me, then you left Krynnspace again. Isn’t that so?”

  “That’s so,” Aelfred said slowly.

  “As if, in finding me, Estriss had got what he wanted?” Teldin pressed.

  “That’s so,” Aelfred repeated, quieter.

  Teldin returned to his original point. “I need to get to the Nebulon.”

  “You’ll have to talk to Estriss.” Aelfred’s voice was firm, but his eyes showed doubt.

  An image flashed into Teldin’s mind – an image of an attacker collapsing under the lash of the illithid’s mental attack. “I can’t,” he said. “Can you take the Probe up without Estriss? Without his say-so?”

  Aelfred’s eyes went cold and steady, like a blade in the hand of a master swordsman. “It sounds like you’re counseling me to make a mutiny, old son,” he said softly.

  Teldin paused. There was real danger now. He could hear it in Aelfred’s voice. He’s my friend, he told himself, but friendship can go only so far. “I need passage,” he said carefully, “and I can’t go back into town or I’ll be killed. Why would I lie about this?”

  The first mate hesitated, obviously torn between friendship and duty. “You’ll have to talk to Estriss,” he said again. This time there was indecision in his voice as well as in his eyes.

  “I can’t, Aelfred. You’ve got to help me.”

  Aelfred pointed to the fishing boat that was still hard against the hammership’s hull. The dozen sellswords were undoubtedly just what they were: hired bravos. Nobody could ever have mistaken them for fishermen. “If I don’t help you, are they here to make me?” The big warrior’s voice was casual, but ail the more dangerous for that. “Could it be that you plan to take the Probe, Teldin? Take it at sword-point?”

  “No,” Teldin shot back forcefully. “You’re my friend. You’ve been my friend through everything. I can no more turn against you than I can fly this ship myself.” He spread his hands in an open, disarming gesture. “All I can do is depend on that friendship. Help me, Aelfred. Save my life again. You’re the only hope I’ve got left.”

  That took the big man aback, Teldin could see. They stood silently for several score heartbeats. Teldin watched the play of emotions over his friend’s face – painful emotions, many of them. It was hard to keep silent, hard not to press the point, hard not to plead, but Teldin understood enough about Aelfred Silverhorn to know that this would be the worst thing he could do. He had to respect the man, had to give him time to make the difficult decision on his own.

  “Aelfred!” The call from a crewman on the forecastle was enough to make Teldin jump with shock.

  The first mate turned away, obviously glad to be spared from his dilemma, if only for a few moments. “What?” he barked.

  The crewman was pointing toward town. “Message from the harbormaster, sir,” he called down. With a muttered curse, Aelfred looked to where the man was indicating.

  There was a string of flags running up one of the flagpoles atop the harbormaster’s building. Like the ones telling us where to dock, Teldin remembered. A premonition of danger tingled through his nerve endings. He wished he could read the message. As he watched, another string of flags ran up the second flagpole.

  “What in the name of all the fiends …” Aelfred stared at the flags in open stupefaction, then he turned to Teldin, an expression of enforced calm on his face. “Just what have you been doing ashore?” he asked.

  “Running for my life,” Teldin answered truthfully. He indicated the flags. “What do they say?”

  “The Probe is impounded,” the mate said disbelievingly. “We’re ordered to remain in place. There’ll be a vessel coming out to secure the ship, and to arrest a fugitive from justice, one Aldyn Brewer.” He fixed Teldin with a flint-edged stare. “What have you done?”

  “Nothing,” Teldin replied, his voice little more than a whisper. Nausea rippled in the pit of his stomach. He was horrified; the corruption, the involvement, goes high enough to involve the harbormaster? Virtually the whole city could be turned against him.

  No, he realized, it needn’t be quite that bad. Somebody had reported that “Aldyn Brewer” had committed a crime. Maybe it was Spak’s murder, or maybe the whole thing was fabricated from nothing. No, it wasn’t as bad as he’d originally thought, but it definitely was bad enough.

  “I didn’t do anything,” he repeated to Aelfred. “They’re trying to get the cloak. They’ll do anything they can to get it, including impound the ship and kill anyone who gets in the way.”

  “And who’s ‘they’?”

  “I don’t know,” Teldin answered. “Everyone.” The enormity of his danger almost overwhelmed him again. “Everyone,” he replied, struggling for control. “Illithids, the elves …” He squared his shoulders, fought to keep his desperation out of his voice. “Please, Aelfred. Take me up there. It’s my responsibility. We’ll say I threatened you. When it’s over, when I’ve seen the arcane, I’ll surrender and you’ll be off the hook.”

  “Hardly,” Aelfred said derisively. His cool gaze searched Teldin’s face, then the big man’s steel-hard expression softened into a wry smile. “I believe you,” he said. He chuckled, a little grimly – or was it sadly? Teldin asked himself. “Well, I was getting tired of shipboard life anyway. Do you think anybody around here needs a mercenary?”

  Teldin remembered the seemingly endless supply of sellswords and smiled. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem.” The decision made, Aelfred was his familiar, efficient self. “The ship they’re going to send is going to be a military vessel. We’re on skeleton crew. There’s no way we can repel it. Get your crew on board,” he snapped to Teldin. “If you’re afraid of Estriss – and I don’t blame you, honestly, from what you’ve told me – send an ‘honor guard’ to escort him.” He turned away and started barking orders at the few crewmen remaining aboard.

  The bravos had been waiting impatiently. The moment Teldin beckoned to them, they swarmed over the gunwale rails, eschewing the rope ladder. On deck, they stood waiting for their orders. Rianna, because of her wounded shoulder, was slower coming aboard. As she climbed over the rail, Teldin saw Aelfred’s smile of welcome. With his two best friends beside him, Teldin was starting to feel he might have a chance of making it through.

  He turned to the sellswords. “You five,” he said, pointing, “I want you to bring the illithid on deck.” He described the location of Estriss’s cabin.

  He noticed that the bravos glanced at Rianna for approval before nodding, which was only right, he accepted. It was she who’d hired them, not him.

  “I don’t want any violence,” he stressed as they started below. “He’s captain of this ship, and you’re his honor guard. Please treat him that way.”

  Aelfred had watched the exchange with some interest and visible approval. He snapped Teldin a perfect salute. “We’ll be underway in a couple of minutes, Captain,” he barked.

  Teldin shook his head. “Don’t call me that,” he told the mate quietly. He paused, then asked, “You said we can’t

  “That’s right,” the warrior replied, “but I also said we can fly. I’ve got Thorn on the helm. We’re taking off from right here. Hideously illegal, of course, but I don’t honestly give a damn.” He grinned hugely.

  He’s enjoying this, Teldin realized. Mutiny, and he’s having a good time. He shook his head.

  Silently, Teldin watched the crew readying the hammership for space. There weren’t many of them – Teldin counted only about twenty – but they were working fast enough for twice that number. Curiously, he looked around for the ex-slave Tregimesticus, but didn’t spot him. Was that significant? He shook his head to clear it. There was no reason to worry about that now.

  He gazed out toward the city. Rauthaven was no longer beautiful, under the gray-black clouds; it was threatening, rather than enticing. Or was that only a ref
lection of his own mood? He could see no sign of the ship that was supposed to be coming to secure the Probe, but that would just be a matter of time. His enemies wouldn’t have made an empty bluff.

  Teldin, Aelfred. The cool words formed in his mind. He looked around. Surrounded by the “honor guard,” Estriss had emerged from belowdecks. For whatever reason, the creature was no longer disguised. His facial tentacles moved in agitation. What is the meaning of this mutiny?

  Teldin drew a breath to answer, but Aelfred beat him to it. “No mutiny, Estriss,” he said calmly. “Teldin needs passage to the Nebulon. I agreed to take him, on my own authority. I’ll return the ship to you when that’s done.”

  It is mutiny. The mental “volume” of the illithid’s words didn’t increase, but the crew immediately stopped their work and turned their eyes on their erstwhile captain. Teldin knew the mind flayer was broadcasting his thoughts for all to pick up. I order you to belay your work, Estriss continued. I reverse all orders that Aelfred Silverhorn might have given, and I relieve him of his authority.

  Several of the crew set down the lines they’d been hauling on, or stepped away from the rigging, but most didn’t move. All eyes were on Aelfred.

  The warrior stood, solid and commanding. Only his eyes moved, flicking over his crewmen. After a score of heartbeats, he spoke. His voice sounded quiet, but somehow it carried to the farthest reaches of the hammership’s deck. “You know me,” he said calmly. “You’ve served under me, some of you for years. Do you think I would do this for no reason? Do you think I’d make mutiny on my captain if I had any other choice?” His voice dropped further. Teldin saw crewmen move closer to him to avoid missing his words. “This is a mission of mercy,” the mate continued. “You know me. You trust me. Will you follow me?” He put his balled fists on his hips and bellowed, “Will you follow me?”

  There was no movement aboard the Probe. Teldin stared at the frozen tableau, afraid to speak, afraid to shatter the spell that seemed to have fallen over them all. Then, one by one, the crewmen returned to their tasks.

  With an audible sigh, Teldin let out the breath that he’d been holding. He looked at Estriss. The illithid still seemed frozen; even his facial tentacles were motionless. His featureless eyes were fixed on Aelfred Silverhorn, but Teldin could read no expression in them. The bravos flanking the illithid were almost vibrating with tension, hands hovering near weapon hilts.