They reached the starbord rail just before the stairs that led up to the sterring deck, and looked out behind them. Keritanima peered out with squinted eyes, then muttered a light curse and touched the Weave. A hazy image appeared before them in a frame of wispy smoke, that of three black-painted ships with three masts, with full sail, and with red flags.
"Zakkites," she spat.
"They sound unfriendly," Dar said.
"They are," she grunted. "They're from a kingdom on the other side of Sharadar, in the Sea of Glass, but their ships roam the twenty seas."
"I'm familiar with Zakkar, Keritanima. I was being sarcastic," Dar told her. Tarrin was as well, for his parents had told him stories of them. The kingdom of Zakkar was a place of magic, but it had a dark reputation for evil and tyranny. It was ruled by a mage-king, who some called the Witch King because of his very nasty disposition, and the study of magic was eclipsed only by the kingdom's need to expand. Zakkar wasn't considered large among the world's great nations, but its magic made it a very dangerous opponent. Their ships were universally feared on the high seas, for they would often attack non-Zakkite ships they encountered. Ungardt ships attacked Zakkite triads without hesitation, because the Zakkites would simply trail behind them, wait for an opportune moment, and strike. The Zakkites were the only kingdom capable of challenging the Wikuni for control of the twenty seas.
"I've always wondered how they make them float," Dar said.
"They capture creatures that can fly and put them in some kind of magical device," Keritanima replied. "Making the ship fly kills the creatures they capture, so they can't do it all the time. I remember hearing that the larger and stronger the creature they use, the longer the ship can fly. They say the Great Eagles and Rocs are extinct because the Zakkites killed them all in their flying devices. The biggest thing they can catch and use now are probably condors and albatrosses. Unless they've managed to find Griffons, but I doubt they'd be that crazy."
"Rocs aren't extinct," Tarrin said in a quiet voice from beside them. That made both of them look at him; it was the first time he'd spoken in days. "We see them flying around the foothills near Aldreth all the time. We think they live in the mountains of Daltochan."
"You're sure they're Rocs?" Keritanima asked curiously.
"Bird with a fifty span wingspan? Catches deer and antelope and elk?"
"That's a Roc," she admitted with a chuckle.
"I once chased one into the Frontier," he said, his eyes distant. "I found one of its feathers, and I thought it landed in the forest, so I went in to see if I could find it."
"Did you?" Dar asked.
"No, but I found where it landed," he replied. "It knocked a couple of trees over, and there were some bones of a few deer and elk."
"Must have been interesting."
"No, having to explain why I'd been missing for four days to my parents was what was interesting," he said musingly. "They were not happy."
Dar chuckled. "I've seen your mother. I wouldn't want to have to face her."
"I'm used to her, Dar," he said, looking down into the water. "What do you think they'll do, Kerri?"
"We're too far away for them to try to overtake us, and we're too close to shore for them to try anything. They never attack other ships in sight of land. If they've seen us, they'll follow along and see if we get away from shore. If we do, they'll try to catch up to us. If we don't, they'll turn away."
"So, our move is to move in closer to shore," Dar surmised.
Keritanima nodded. "We were going to do that anyway. We can't be all that far from Den Gauche."
Almost as if Keritanima's words were orders, the ship suddenly turned more towards shore, angling in so the ships behind couldn't close the distance while the galleon got closer to land. "Hey," Keritanima called to a passing sailor, a large, willowy fellow with a missing front tooth and some gray in his short beard, "how far out are we from Den Gauche?"
"We should pull into dock by morn'," the man replied in an accented voice.
"Thank you," Keritanima said absently, and the man continued on about his business. "We're closer than I thought. It also means we turned south again. We must have done that during the night. Kern must have overshot his hook."
"How can you tell?" Dar asked.
"Simple, Dar," she said with a laugh. "The land is on the left. If land were on the right, we'd be travelling north."
"Oh. That makes sense, I suppose."
"I'll make a sailor out of you yet, Dar," Keritanima chuckled as Tarrin wandered away from them.
Tomorrow. It made him feel relieved that he'd be getting off the ship, but old fears were rising in him again. He was a Were-cat. He had no business in the human world. Most humans thought him some kind of very exotic Wikuni, at least those who lived near the ocean, but when they found out what he was, and learned what it meant, they distanced themselves from him. In the Tower, he had literally lived alone among many, as the Novices and Initiates were terrified of him. Only a rare few, like Dar, put aside his frightening appearance and reputation and simply talked to him. But then again, acceptance seemed to be an integral part of Dar's nature, and nobody could help but like him. He was afraid of going out into a city, afraid of the people, afraid of rejection. But he was also afraid of losing control of himself and hurting people. And beneath it all was his instinctive need to be free, and that would force him off the ship when it landed. If only for a little while, he needed to roam in a nice open area and feel like he wasn't trapped.
A hand on his shoulder startled him; the wind was in his face, and it kept his from scenting or hearing the approach. But the sense of presence from the person behind told him immediately it was Allia, and Tarrin felt the instantaneous reaction fade just as quickly. "You shouldn't sneak up on me, sister," he said in the Selani language, putting his hand over his heart and feeling it race.
"I'm not used to being able to do it," she replied with a light chuckle, leading him to the rail facing land. "What troubles you today, deshida? You've been very quiet lately."
"The same thing, Allia," he said despondantly. He kept no secrets from Allia, and she knew the truth behind his quandary. She couldn't understand it-nobody who wasn't Were could understand it-but it made him feel a bit better to talk about things to someone. "I need off this ship, but I'm afraid I may do something out in the city. As touchy as I've been, I'm afraid getting jostled in the streets may be enough to make me lash out."
"Brother, getting off the ship will make you feel much better," she said, putting her four-fingered hand on his wrist. It came down on the heavy steel manacle that was still locked around his wrist, and that made her eyes flare. She still got on him about taking them off, but he couldn't. The manacles represented what he had done, and all he had to do was look down at them, feel their weight on his wrists, to remember what he had done, what he had become, and try his hardest not to have it happen to him again. "I think you are suffering from a very bad case of, what did Dolanna call it? Oh, yes, 'cabin fever.' You need some time on land, without being hemmed in by the length of the deck. I know I could use some time on land," she grunted. Allia was born in the desert, and had a fear of large bodies of water. She had mastered it enough to be able to move around, but it did nothing against bouts of seasickness. The first two rides on the journey, Allia could barely get out of bed. She had adapted marvelously to the rolling sense of the ship, what Kern called sea legs, and no longer got seasick except when the ship was caught in high seas or a storm. But the time on the sea had begun to show on her face.
"We'll be there for two days," he told her. "I hope that's enough for you."
"A moment would make me happy," she sighed, "but will it be enough for you?"
"I don't know. I hope so," he replied quietly.
"There is no need to be afraid, my brother," she said. "Fear of yourself will only make things worse."
"I don't know how else to feel, Allia," he said quietly. "I've tried to explain it to you, but, I just can't
find the words."
"You don't need them, deshida," she sighed. "I know how you feel. I'm just telling you that you don't need to feel the way you do. As far as I am concerned, you did the right thing. It was just the part of you that understands the brutality of war that acted outside of your human need for mercy."
"It wasn't like that."
"Was it? Did you not attack your enemies? Didn't you escape from them? It seems pretty obvious to me."
"I didn't like not having a choice!" he said in a sudden hiss, then he turned away from her. "Every time I close my eyes, I can see their faces, Allia! I can see how they stared at me just before I killed them!"
"That's because you won't let it go, brother!" she said in a sudden pleading voice, turning him around with a hand on his shoulder. She grabbed his paws in her hands, and held them up so the manacles were before his eyes. "You will never find peace until you can let it go!"
"I can't," he said, closing his eyes. "I can never let that happen again."
"It will," Dolanna's calm voice came from behind her. He turned to look at her, but she showed no reservation at staring into his eyes. "You cannot stop it, Tarrin. It is a reflexive reaction within you, and it is a very common condition throughout all of Were-kin. Did you think you were alone? Unique? Even natural-born Were-kin suffer from the rages." She approached him. "Allia is right. You must let it go. Instead of torturing yourself over what you have done and dreading what will happen again, you must instead strive to limit the damage you can do while in a rage. You must learn how to channel the animal within so that it does not do anything you will regret."
Tarrin gave Dolanna a hot look, enough to make almost anyone else shrink back, but Dolanna had no fear of him. "You must learn to guide the rage, Tarrin," she told him. "Lead the Cat away from doing anything that you will regret. It will listen to you, if you are strong enough. You have spent a month up in that rigging instead of down here where I can teach you. Whose fault is that?"
His hot look suddenly turned sheepish, and he tried to look away from her. "I have given you time, but you have no more. Tomorrow, we go back into the world. Do you feel ready?"
"I, I don't know," he said, closing his eyes.
"You must be," she said. "We are depending on you, Tarrin. We need you." She looked to her left. "Azakar, take Tarrin down to the galley and get him something to eat. I know he missed lunch."
"Yes ma'am," he said in his deep voice. "Come on, Tarrin."
"I'm not hungry," he said.
"That's too bad," Azakar said mildly. "I guess I'll just have to force-feed you."
"You wouldn't dare," Tarrin said in a sudden, savage hiss, his ears laying back.
"You can drop the theatrics," Azakar told him casually. "You won't hurt me, and you know you need to eat. You're already as thin as a stick. You don't have any weight to lose. Now let's go down to the galley."
His eyes igniting from within with their greenish radiance, Tarrin extended the claws on his paw, laid his ears back, and presented it to the hulking Knight threateningly.
"Azakar, I think you should step back now," Dolanna said in a very carefully neutral voice. "Slowly."
"Mistress Dolanna, he needs- aiiee!! " he broke in a gasp, pulling a bleeding hand back. He held the back of his hand and stared at the Were-cat in surprise, and not a little shock, but Tarrin's ominous expression did not change in the slightest.
"I said I'm not hungry," he said in a dangerous, low tone. "Now leave me alone!"
Turning, he took three steps, then scrambled up the mast so quickly that a man running on the ground could not have covered the same distance as fast.
"He's losing his fear of Azakar," Faalken noted, coming over as Dolanna healed the deep scratches in the back of Azakar's hand and wrist. The Knight looked up, seeing the Were-cat up on the highest boom, just atop the uppermost sail on the mizzenmast.
"In the future, Azakar, I would refrain from using the word force around him," Dolanna chided. "That is not how you make Tarrin do things."
"I'm sorry, Mistress. I forgot."
"It is a dangerous game you play, my young friend," Dolanna told him. "Yours is a task much akin to taming a wild beast, and he can be dangerous. You cannot afford to forget. Tarrin will harm you if you push him too far, as you have just discovered."
"I was just trying to do what you do."
"Tarrin does not see you the same way he sees me," she told him. "Allia, Keritanima and myself are the only ones who can treat him in that manner. I suggest you remember that."
"Yes Dolanna," he said, rubbing the healed skin gingerly. "I hope that doesn't eat at him too much. I know it wasn't his fault. I could tell that it wasn't entirely him doing it."
"No, it was not. And that is the problem," she sighed. "Tarrin is becoming more and more unstable. He needs time, time to himself and time off this ship, but we have so little to give him. We must get to Dayise as quickly as possible."
Den Gauche was a riot of conflicting colors.
The city wall was built of stone, but almost all the houses beyond those walls were made of wattle and daub or timber, and they were all painted different colors. The roofs of all the houses was the only conformity of color, a bright red tile that created eerie lines and rows among the city's significant rise from the harbor up a hill. The castle of Den Gauche stood well over their heads, on the peak of the tall hill upon the side of which the city was built. The city curled around the sides of the hill, and there was a plateau of sorts about halfway up where most of the larger buildings were constructed. Tarrin had never seen such a large city built on the side of a hill before, and it was definitely an interesting sight.
They were all near the bow, staring at the large harbor and city as the ship approached through a very light early morning mist. The city was large, and even from their vantage, it was a very busy and crowded place. Many men could be seen along the docks of the large harbor, bustling here and there, carrying bundles, or riding on horses. Huge wooden contraptions that Keritanima called cargo cranes sat upon wheels of steel, which themselves sat upon steel rails attached to the quays and docks. Those cranes had immense hooks suspended by large ropes, and they lowered to ships and picked up large nets and pallets filled with goods, then swung them over to the deck, where waiting dock workers would unload the cargo. Suld didn't have such things, and Tarrin marvelled at their design and their efficiency for quite a while.
"How do the hooks go up and down?" Tarrin asked Dolanna curiously.
"Most are attached to animal trains," Keritanima answered for him, pointing to a team of large horses or mules not far from a crane. "They use a very complex pulley system and a counterweight so that only a small number of animals are needed to lift a much heavier weight than normal. The big cranes are fixed to that position, and those little ones are on rails, so they can move up and down the dock."
"You said most of them use horses. What do the others use?"
"Men turning a winch," she replied. "It only takes about four men to pick up a few tons, if the counterweight and pulleys are set up right. We use cranes like these in Wikuna." She smoothed the fur on her cheek absently. "They're experimenting with putting a steam engine in it to drive the winch, which would allow the crane to pick up much heavier loads."
"That sounds dangerous."
"True, but then only two men could operate the crane, instead of nine or ten."
"Since I have all of you here, it is best we discuss things now," Dolanna announced. "Shaceans are a people not like what you are used to dealing with," she told them. "They are a very lively and energetic people. Do not be offended by them if they touch you or kiss you on the cheek. Those are customs here."
"I've always liked Shaceans," Keritanima said. "They've all got senses of humor, and they have a zest for life you don't see in many places. Sometimes they're so happy it makes me sick."
"We may happen across a duel or two as well. Do not worry about them. Shacean warriors and Musketeers love to fence, and ofte
n impromptu duels erupt between two Musketeers who are trying to prove their fencing superiority. They are not fights, only tests of skill. To them, it is a game, nothing more."
"Strange game," Dar mused. "How often do they get hurt?"
"Not as often as you may think," she replied. "Injuring an opponent is considered to be bad form."
"I see Wikuni ships," Dar noted. "Are they going to cause us any problems?"
"They shouldn't," Keritanima replied. "Even if they see me, they can't do anything to me. Binter will tie their arms in a knot if they do. Wikuni have to obey the laws of the land they visit, and I don't think kidnapping is allowed here. The worst thing they can do is see which ship I'm on, then try to chase me down on the open sea." She smiled mischieviously. "And they won't see that."
The ship nestled up against a large wooden quay that esxtended well out into the harbor, and then the ship was tied down by heavy, darkened ropes. And when the gangplank was lowered, their group filed off the ship. They gathered around Dolanna, who urged them to get out of the way of the dockworkers milling about on the wooden walkway. The men gave Tarrin and Allia strange looks, but not as much as Tarrin thought they would have received. Then again, working on the docks, the men had to be used to seein non-humans. There were no less than six Wikuni vessels in port. Keritanima was with them, but she was hiding beneath an Illusion that made her appear to be human. "I know we all have different things to do, but we should all return to the ship by noon," she told them. "Then we will ferry out again after lunch. That way we do not get too lost." She looked at Tarrin. "I suggest you come with me, dear one," she said.
"I think we should stay together," Keritanima said. Seeing her like that made Tarrin's fur itch.
The Questing Game f-2 Page 4
