Cloak of the Two Winds

by Jack Massa

  They sat in silence for a time, and then Eben began a chant. All of them joined in, the same chant they had sung in the ritual the night the klarn was joined.

  Through wind and sharp wave

  Through ice and blood

  We hold to the klarn

  We are fearless

  Many hands, one heart

  Many eyes, one soul

  Many spears, one hunter

  We hold to the klarn

  We are fearless

  Six

  Next morning after breakfast the Iruks pushed open the door of the witch's cabin without knocking and trooped inside.

  The delicate glass lamps that Lonn remembered illumined the chamber, but the hanging prisms and desmets were nowhere in sight. The witch's narrow silk tapestries were hung all together, curtaining off the rear section of the cabin. Amlina looked up from the table where she was seated next to Kizier the windbringer.

  "Come in," the witch said wryly. "You have my permission to enter."

  Her sarcasm was not lost on Lonn. "The cabin boy said you sent for us. We assumed that meant you wanted us to enter."

  "Pardon our not knocking," Draven said. "We don't always remember the customs that you civilized folk think so important."

  "No matter," Amlina rose and gestured to cushions set around the table. "Sit down."

  She wore a dark blue robe of heavy silk embroidered with gray and white designs. Hammered silver earrings hung from her ears, and a silver fillet set with moonstones bound her pale gold hair. She stepped to the rear of the chamber, past the tapestries.

  "Greetings," Kizier whispered in his soft bostull voice when the Iruks were seated. "I would have liked to welcome you aboard sooner, but as you know I have limited mobility."

  "We are grateful to you," Draven said, "for speaking to Amlina on our behalf."

  "I advised her as best I could for her own good," the bostull replied. "I am only glad it coincided with your interests."

  Amlina returned from behind the curtain carrying a light silvery thing that she set down in the middle of the table. It was a peculiar construction of glass, thin metal, and mirrors, with fan-like arms and tiny chimes, all rigged on a spindle attached to a base set with four candles. The thing looked like one of the desmets Lonn remembered from Amlina's treasure.

  Amlina lit the four candles from a taper. The thing started twirling on the updraft of heated air, the chimes tinkling. The mirrors and glass caught and scattered the many lamp fires in the chamber, so that light and shadow revolved on the cabin walls. Lonn stared at the spinner with a weird and deepening fascination. His breathing began to sound loud in his head.

  "Let us talk honestly." Amlina was seated again. "If I decide to make a pact with you and take you on as my bodyguards, will you swear to heed my instructions and obey my commands without hesitation or argument?"

  In a strange, unreal state of mind Lonn saw his mates staring at him. They expected him, as klarn leader, to respond. He turned to Amlina. Impelled somehow by her admonishment to speak honestly, he replied without coloring the truth.

  "We are not slaves to swear obedience. We will do whatever we must to save our mate. That is our concern."

  "Yes." The others muttered in agreement. "Lonn is right."

  Lonn caught Amlina's slight frown before his eyes were drawn back to the spinner—which continued to turn with inexplicable attractiveness.

  "They are headstrong, Kizier, unruly" the witch was saying. "I'm afraid their wildness will prove more a danger to us than a help."

  "They are fierce and proud," the windbringer said. "But not without self-control. Listen, Iruks: Amlina does not require that you place obedience to her above Glyssa's rescue. But she must be certain, first that you will not threaten the crewmen of this ship, and second that you will accept that she is wiser than you in the ways of deepshapers and the foes you are likely to meet on this voyage, and that you will accordingly obey her commands when the time comes."

  "Understand," Amlina said, "this voyage will likely be long and dangerous. I have at least one powerful enemy, probably two. And should knowledge become general that the Cloak of the Two Winds is loose in the world, there might well be others. While you slept last night, I looked into your minds and weighed what I saw there against what Kizier has told me. You Iruks are violent and audacious. I know you would not fail me for lack of bravery. But I must also know you won't fail me for lack of restraint. That is why I need your oath of obedience."

  Lonn forced his eyes from the spinner and scanned the faces of his mates, trying to frame a response for the whole klarn. "We will swear to obey you," he finally said. "Except when your orders plainly run counter to the good of the klarn, or our hope of saving Glyssa."

  Unaccountably, he was trembling, his face flushed.

  The witch shook her head, dissatisfied. "I don't like it, Kizier. These barbarians haggle over terms like the bankers of Kadavel."

  "No doubt they've had experience with Tathian money-lenders," the bostull said with amusement.

  The witch scrutinized Lonn, whose eyes were back on the spinner.

  "Very well," she said abruptly. "I accept those terms. You will swear them to me formally. I, in turn, will swear to put aside my grievance against you and to help you find your lost mate. Now, as a token of our pact, I need each of you to give me a hair plucked from your head. You must each do it yourself, and willingly."

  "No." Lonn glared at the witch. "We know that you've done this to the crew. We'll not give you the means to enslave us."

  "We will swear on the life of our klarn," Draven suggested. "That is all the token you need."

  "Impossible." The witch was on her feet, pacing. "I must have the tokens or I have no means of enforcing the pact."

  "You won't need to enforce it," Lonn stood himself, though his knees felt weak. "If we swear on the klarn, we will keep our word."

  "I feel they can be trusted," Kizier offered.

  "I know you do." Amlina walked slowly back to her place. "But if not, they could bring me disaster. I just don't know if they are worth the risk, Kizier."

  "They are involved in the pattern of events," the windbringer responded. "To extricate them now would take effort and be of dubious worth. Why then fight the Ogo in this? Better to accept the risk with good faith, to view the Iruks as a gift, an opportunity. That is my reading of the matter."

  Amlina peered at the faces of each of the Iruks in turn, Lonn last of all.

  Suddenly her mind was made up. "Swear the oath to me now," she said.

  Lonn blinked, his attention removed from the spinner once more. After glancing about at his mates he placed his hand on the table palm down. Each of the Iruks put a hand on top of it.

  "We swear, on the life of our klarn, a pact of truce and alliance with this witch," Lonn said. "We swear to keep peace with her crew and to obey her commands in all but what will plainly do harm to us or to Glyssa. This is the decision of the klarn."

  "Agreed," the mates all muttered.

  Amlina swore the oath she had promised to the Iruks, then leaned over and blew out the candles. With the touch of a finger she stopped the spinner from turning.

  Immediately Lonn felt that a constriction had been removed from his mind. Whereas a moment before his thoughts had all been concentrated on the witch and answering her truthfully, now they were free to follow their own course again. His mates seemed to share the same odd sensation. They were looking about with puzzled faces, or regarding the spinner with suspicion.

  Amlina had returned to the rear of the cabin and was pulling aside the silk tapestries. "Here are your weapons," she said.

  Eagerly the mates went to pick out their blades and spears. They examined the knives and swords briefly, then slipped them into sheaths and scabbards.

  "You said the voyage would likely be long," Karrol spoke to Amlina. "Does that mean you've found our boat with your witch-sight?"

  "Only a glimpse, if I saw correctly," Amlina answered. "Only enou
gh to know it is distant from us. It's to be expected the journey will be long. I doubt there is a deepshaper in this part of the world capable of weaving such designs as stole the Cloak from you. Probably the Cloak is headed back to Nyssan, or perhaps to the Tathian Islands."

  "Glyssa is getting farther away from us all the time," Eben said. "And we're not even sure we're sailing in the right direction."

  "We're following your boat's last known course," Amlina replied. "Until my deepseeing can pierce the veils of energy hiding the Cloak, we can do no better. This evening, I will enter the dark immersion, the same trance in which you found me on the day you plundered this vessel. With luck, I will return to the surface in a few days with a clear idea of where the Cloak is going. Now let us announce our pact to the crew." Amlina was pulling on her fur coat. "If two of you will take Kizier, we'll go up to the quarterdeck."

  The wind had shifted toward the west, and the Plover was sailing on a wider tack, tall mainsail and mizzen curved out to starboard. The morning air was crisp and clear, and the sun's light glittered on the water—diamond flashes in the aquamarine glow of the sea.

  The Iruks stood at the edge of the quarterdeck, unhooded, long hair moving in the breeze. In their woolen capes and leather harnesses, they stood as warriors stand, feet wide apart, hands on belts and sword hilts, their spirit and pluck restored with their weapons. Amlina stood with them, and Captain Troneck beside her.

  Below, at the base of the steps, the entire ship's company had assembled. The sailors seemed to Lonn much as they had on the day his klarn captured this ship—perhaps a bit more haggard and sea-weary. They glowered up at the Iruks with angry and sullen expressions.

  Amlina and the Iruks repeated the oaths they had sworn to each other, speaking loudly so the whole company could witness. When they had finished the witch addressed the Larthangans.

  "These Iruks are to serve as bodyguards to help protect us for the rest of this voyage. You have heard them swear to be at peace with you. Now all of you must likewise swear to put aside your enmity with them."

  But the Larthangans only stared at the witch, frowning stubbornly. Amlina watched them a few moments then turned to Troneck, whose head was bowed.

  "Why are your men silent, captain?"

  "Lady, they ... We have a grudge against these Iruks that is hard to dismiss. They've killed two of our crew. It would dishonor us to make peace with them and take them on as shipmates."

  "I am ordering you to make this pledge," Amlina replied. "If there is dishonor, it is mine alone."

  "A few of our men have sailed these seas before," Troneck told her. "They say the Iruks are well known here as crafty and bloodthirsty rogues. We're not sure they can be trusted to keep their pledge of peace."

  "We do not want them on our ship," shouted one of the men below. His fellows grumbled in surly agreement.

  "It is true they are pirates," Amlina admitted. "But I have seen in the Deepmind that they will be of help to us on this hazardous voyage. And I have seen in their souls that they can be trusted. I insist that all of you pledge peace with them."

  The Larthangans still refused, though fewer of them now dared return the witch's gaze.

  "Your men are disagreeable, captain." A shade of threat had entered Amlina's voice.

  Troneck cast his eyes at her feet. "Lady, understand us. My men are weary. We've been at sea over a month now, on barely half-rations. First across the ocean with gale winds driving us, then attacked by these barbarians, then into uncharted seas to chase them. Now we're heading back the way we came, with no idea of our destination, and you want us to take on these pirates as shipmates. We are not adventurers, lady, only simple traders."

  "Have you forgotten your condition before this voyage began?" Amlina asked, eyes flashing. "How I found you chained to the masts of your own ship in the harbor of Tallyba, waiting to be flayed alive in the Temple of the Sun Goddess? Have you forgotten how I freed you from those chains, gave you back your ship and brought forth a wind to blow us out to sea? Have you forgotten that in exchange for your lives you each pledged yourselves my bondsmen, mine to command so long as I have need of you? If you have forgotten, then I have a token, a hair freely given from each man's head, to remind you of your oath. Will I need to use those tokens?"

  Troneck had paled. "No, lady."

  "Then down an one knee, all of you, and swear you will keep peace with these Iruks. I want to hear every man's voice."

  Reluctantly, Troneck dropped to one knee. In twos and threes the men of the crew followed their captain. Aloud they swore, on pledge of their lives, peace and cooperation with the Iruks.

  "Good," Amlina said. "Now back to your duties. And be of good heart. In due time we will return to the Golden Land, and all of you will be made wealthy and called heroes."

  The Larthangans dispersed, silent or talking fretfully among themselves.

  "Pledge or no pledge," Eben whispered to Lonn, "we'd better post a guard while we sleep."

  Lonn nodded. "And keep our blades at hand while awake."

  "Lady," Troneck spoke anxiously to the witch. "Do not think me rebellious, but I must talk with you about our course."

  "What of it?"

  "Please. Let me show you on the charts."

  Troneck moved between the ornate hatches and past the windbringers to the helm, where the long tiller was locked in place. He opened a compartment set against the rail and pulled out a yellowed chart, which he unrolled on the deck. Amlina and the Iruks gathered about him.

  Lonn was familiar with Tathian charts of the South Polar Sea. It took him only a glance to find the curved peninsula of Fleevan and the hooked cape at the end where Fleevanport was marked.

  "We are sailing this way," Troneck's gloved finger traced a northward course to the left of Fleevan. "Your islands," he said to Lonn, "are off the chart. They'd be down past this corner. I put our position roughly here, but perhaps you can correct me. Shortly before dawn we sighted some rocks, four rolling mounds in a line, and some smaller ones."

  "The sea lion mating rocks," Eben said.

  "That would put us closer to here," Lonn shifted Troneck's finger a bit to the north and east, closer to Fleevanport.

  "So," the captain said. "We are sailing this way. Lady, as you can see this Fleevan is the last inhabited land we'll come near for hundreds of leagues. I think we have no choice but to make for it."

  "Impossible," Amlina said. "The Cloak's distance from us may be increasing by the hour. We must follow without delay."

  "But we are running out of provisions, and there won't be another chance to restock. Besides, we are on soft water now. Sooner or later the freezewind will blow. We could become icebound, far from any help."

  "If the Icemaker blows we will sail up onto the ice," Amlina replied. "If not, we will work ourselves free and go on."

  Troneck was plainly distressed. "No civilized ships will be sailing in this season, but there may be pirates in these waters."

  "We have these Iruks to protect us against pirates. That is one reason I've taken them on board."

  "But the pirates we meet might be Iruks. Will these five choose to help us against their own people?"

  "I've already told you, these Iruks can be trusted to keep their pledge."

  "Well, if you say so," the captain grumbled. "One thing is certain: they are five more mouths to feed. You still haven't said what we're to do about provisions."

  "What of this small island here," Amlina pointed to the map, "that the Tathian script names Windbock? It can't be many leagues distant, and it lies almost directly on our course."

  "Windbock is desert," Troneck answered mournfully. "There are no supplies to be had there."

  "You are mistaken, captain," Eben said. "There are provisions available on Windbock: edible berries and lichens, flizzards and shellfish. And there are springs of fresh water a short distance inland. We sometimes stop there in Third Winter, when we hunt that part of the sea."

  "Can we gather enough to sus
tain our company for a lengthy voyage?" Amlina asked.

  "With a little work," Lonn said.

  "Good." Amlina turned to Troneck. "You will make for Windbock, captain, and lay in for provisioning. I will enter deep meditation this evening. By the time we're ready to depart from Windbock, I will inform you of our destination."

  "I hope we make it as far as Windbock," Troneck muttered, rolling up the chart, "and don't get icebound or speared by brigands on the way."

  "Do not go expecting disaster," Amlina answered, as though quoting a maxim.

  She bid the captain and the Iruks good day and retired below.

  Unable to beg a second breakfast from the ship's cook, the Iruks returned to their compartment in the stern. They fired up the oil stove, took off their harnesses and boots, and spread out their capes close to the fire. Karrol regretted aloud the loss of her cape in the sea.

  "We may have a chance to get you a fur cape," Draven remarked. "If the volrooms come out on Windbock."

  Eben had a more troubling thought. "The captain is right about one thing: we may run into pirates between here and the island. And our neighbors could be among them."

  "I know," Lonn said. "Let's hope the yulugg have led the fleet far enough east that we miss them."

  Draven yawned. "As the witch told the captain, let's not go expecting disaster."

  After devouring their noontime rations of tea and biscuits, the Iruks had nothing to occupy themselves until supper. Karrol found a cloth and began oiling the harnesses and iron weapons that had been drenched in the salt water. Draven and Brinda lay down to nap, though they'd had ample sleep from yesterday afternoon through the morning.

  Too restless to sleep, Lonn and Eben wandered up on deck. They leaned out over the bowsprit for a time, discussing the klarn's prospects and eyeing the horizon for sails. Eventually they walked back to the quarterdeck, to hold conversation with Kizier.

  The bostull, in his distinctive ornate pail, had been set down with the other windbringers and had attuned his mind once more with theirs. Bostulls were a gregarious species among themselves, though the content of their social interaction was generally outside of human ken. The only apparent sign of their sociability was that windbringers, when gathered in groups of two or more, often hummed together. For this reason, the Tathians called any assemblage of bostulls a chorus.