Cloak of the Two Winds

by Jack Massa

  The Larthangans had all finished eating, yet they did not stir to get their tools. Utterly drained by the three days of chopping in the cold, stunned by the depth of snow that had buried the ship in the night, the crewmen simply could not motivate themselves to face the cold again. Lonn sensed all this in one of those instants of illumination that had come to him occasionally since being initiated by the witch. He knew that Amlina sensed it also.

  "Captain Troneck," she said quietly. "It's time to work."

  Troneck sat near the far end of the stove, disheveled in his shirt and trousers. He stared at Amlina through watery eyes.

  "Lady, I know it's time. But ... the men are tired. The digging seems hopeless."

  "It is not hopeless," Amlina raised her voice for emphasis. "No one must think it so. This design must be believed in: that we will soon be sailing free. Everyone of you must envision this whenever the question comes to your mind."

  "It is hard," Troneck muttered. "Lady, we must rest from the cold today."

  A few of the crewmen summoned the energy to nod or voice their support of this idea.

  Amlina shook her head. "It is imperative that we dig while the snow is still soft. Remember, you have all sworn your lives to my service. Do not force me to use threats."

  "Listen to her," Karrol grumbled in Iruk. "I'm glad she never got a hair from our heads."

  Amlina stared at her, seemed to read the tone if not the meaning of her comment. "I know you Iruks agree with me," the witch said, turning to Lonn, "that the snow must be cleared without delay."

  Lonn stolidly returned her gaze.

  "Of course we do," Draven declared. "We'll be down on the ice right after breakfast."

  "No we won't," Karrol said in Iruk.

  "We have to stick with the witch," Draven answered. "We need her help."

  "We don't need her," Karrol said.

  "We're undecided," Lonn admitted to Amlina's inquiring look. "There's been talk of our leaving the ship and trying to reach land on our skates."

  "You'd be foolish to try that," Amlina responded. "This ship will reach Kadavel long before you could find your way there on your own. Even if you got there, you'd have little chance of finding your mate without my help."

  Lonn stared into Amlina's eyes and knew that she was right. But could he trust this knowledge, or was the witch using some charm to persuade him? Anyway, he could not decide for the whole klarn.

  "We'll have to meet and talk it over," he said.

  "There's no time," Amlina replied angrily. "The snowfall is hardening while we stand here and debate."

  "She's right," Draven tossed down his spoon and stood. "Let's break out the tools."

  "No," Karrol said. "We're going to have a meeting."

  "We can meet later," Draven said. "First the snow."

  Lonn found himself standing. "Draven's right. If the meeting votes for skating, we will have wasted only a few hours by digging now. But if the vote goes for staying, we will have left ourselves much worse off than we need to be."

  "I won't do it," Karrol said.

  "Let me suggest a compromise," Eben offered. "We stay and work for three more days. If it doesn't look like the ship's going to get free by then, we go on skates."

  "Fair enough," Lonn said. "Brinda?"

  She lifted a shoulder. "I'm with Eben."

  "That's three of us." Lonn looked at Karrol.

  "I think it's a waste of three days," she said. "But all right."

  Draven shrugged. "I don't like the idea of skating at all. But I'll go along."

  Most of the klarn's discussion had been in Iruk. The witch had waited, watching intently.

  "We're ready to work," Lonn told her. "What about these lazy sea rats?"

  Amlina surveyed the roomful of Larthangans, most of whom refused to meet her gaze. "These Iruks and I are going to shovel the snow from about the ship. I will not force you to join us. But think on this: if we do not get free and sail on to Kadavel, there's no telling who may end up possessing the Cloak of the Two Winds or what damage they may inflict on the world with its power. If you give up now, you may be giving up not only your own lives but your loved ones, your country, the whole human world."

  Saying no more, Amlina led the Iruks toward the galley door.

  Grudgingly, Troneck pushed himself away from the stove and followed. "Come on, men."

  In twos and threes the crewmen dragged themselves after their captain. Amlina smiled fiercely as the Larthangans gathered at the lockers where the axes, mallets, and shovels were stored.

  "I thank you for your courage."

  The Plover's company was crowding up the spiral steps when the hull gave a loud creaking and shifted its tilt. Lonn clutched the rail as the clamor of bewildered voices mingled with a second shuddering groan.

  "Go up," Amlina waved him on excitedly. "Go!"

  Lonn rushed up the steps and flung open the door to the main deck, his mates and the Larthangans behind him. The coaster gave a third heaving groan then settled, rocking gently as if in water.

  Clouds of steamy vapor rose on all sides of the ship. Lonn stumbled to the nearest rail and peered through the mist. His senses had not been lying: the ice and snow entrapping the hull were gone. The ship was floating.

  Below, dark bulky creatures swam amid slabs and blocks of ice.

  "Fire turtles!" Eben spoke with awe at Lonn's shoulder.

  "It is done," Amlina murmured. "The Deepmind is setting us free."

  While they watched, one green reptile head surfaced, glittering with the dripping sealight. The turtle gulped air, then breathed a jet of yellow flame that licked and melted the ice still clinging to the aft runner. To left and right other heads appeared and other flames. More hissing vapor lifted about the ship.

  The whole ship's company hung watching from port and starboard rails as the fire turtles dissolved the last of the nearby ice, leaving the Plover afloat in a pool of bright water hardly wider than the ship itself with runners down. Then the giant turtles took breaths of air, long breaths to fill the enormous lungs beneath their shells, and disappeared beneath the surface.

  Lonn marveled at the strangeness of it. A score or more of the turtles had surfaced for air at just the right place and had lingered to free the icebound ship. Brute reptiles, they had acted as if with intelligent purpose; solitary beasts, they had come together to carry out that purpose— a miracle.

  "Amlina did it!" Draven shook Lonn by the shoulder. "I told you not to give up on her!"

  Lonn roared with glee, then hugged his mate, bending back and lifting Draven in the air until both fell still embracing into the snow. Across the main deck Iruks and Larthangans alike reacted with the same unabashed elation. Some hugged, some leapt and capered, some sank to their knees in the snow and wept with joy and relief.

  Amlina moved among them, gesturing for quiet. "Listen, my friends. The Deepmind has answered our need by sending forth its creatures to help us. Truly a celebration is in order. But we're not free yet. The ship must be dragged up onto the ice, and the sooner the better."

  Troneck stepped up beside her and began issuing orders in a hoarse voice. First all decks and spars had to be cleared of snow to lighten the ship. All hands went eagerly to work, their desperate tiredness now forgotten. Brooms, pails and cooking vessels were pressed into service, along with the shovels carried up from below. The snow was gathered together and dumped over the sides. On the quarterdeck the bostulls were brushed off—some of the poor creatures had been buried past their eyes—and roused from their trance state. Their help might be needed later, to get the ship underway.

  Sails were raised and trimmed to the breeze so that the prow drifted against the edge of the ice. The overflow of water from the melting had flooded across the ice in all directions, leveling the snow drifts. The result was a glazed plain, quickly refrozen—ideal conditions for raising the ship.

  The Iruks and a company of Larthangans went below to the capstan room. The anchor chains and spikes wer
e still in place from their earlier attempt to free the vessel. Lonn and his mates stationed themselves at the capstan bars in tandem with the crewmen. On a signal relayed from the foredeck, they began to push.

  The drum screeched and inched around. The Plover shivered with a dull scraping noise then tilted back. Lonn could feel the ship sliding upward as the capstan slowly cranked.

  Then suddenly the hull tipped forward and the scraping noise changed to the smooth hiss of runners on ice. A jubilant cheer from the decks above confirmed that the ship was free. Lonn was amazed at how easily the capstan had turned. The Larthangans, he decided, were justly renowned for their ingenious mechanisms.

  The spikes were retrieved and the heavy chains hoisted back on board. Then the stiff, battened ice-sails were lowered, the Plover forced to wait until last night's snowfall froze to a smooth, slick surface. But by noon the telltale witchlight was glinting over the frozen ocean, and with the help of the bostulls the ship got underway.

  Eleven

  That evening a bright fire blazed in the great stove of the ship's galley. Near the fire, basking in its warmth, stood the six windbringers, carried below for an overdue warming and washing of their roots. The tables were crowded with Larthangans and Iruks, feasting and drinking together in boisterous good cheer, their long-standing animosity put aside.

  This new camaraderie had started in the afternoon when the Iruks and off-duty crewmen had shared the first cups of brandy. Before long the klarnmates found themselves getting drunk with the elderly cook, who decided the barbarians were not such bad types after all. He even poured them each a drop from a treasured private bottle of rice liqueur, which instantly raised the Iruks in the estimation of the other Larthangans present. The Iruks, in turn, lauded the cook's generosity and the courage and cleverness of Larthangans in general.

  To express their thanks, Draven insisted they would help the cook prepare the night's feast. They started simmering the volroom meat early, skimming off the fat, adding herbs and roots at the proper time. They roasted clams seasoned with wild sage and made a separate soup of sandfish and ginger, instructing the cook and sipping brandy as they worked. The meal that resulted was more bountiful and appetizing than any served on the Plover in a long time.

  Amlina broke with her custom and ate in the galley that night. She sat close to the stove, Troneck, Kizier, and the Iruks sharing her table. She had adorned herself with silver bangles and a bright scarlet and green silk gown. Her face was powdered, lips and eyelids glistening with paint. With makeup she looked older, no longer girlish, but a dazzling lady.

  And the witch was merry to a degree Lonn had not seen before. She included herself in the free drinking and encouraged the reluctant Troneck to open another keg of brandy long after the food had all been eaten.

  "I drink to the providence of the Ogo," she said when her cup was refilled. "And to all of you, my companions, for your persistence and bravery, so sorely tested these past days."

  When this toast had been drunk Draven raised his tumbler, sloshing some brandy over the rim. "And we drink to Amlina," he said. "It's her witchery that got us free. All our chopping in the end amounted to nothing."

  "Not so," Amlina said. "All our efforts together manifested our freedom. That is the way it must be viewed."

  "I don't understand," Eben said, chin resting languidly in his hand. "The fire turtles would have melted us free whether we had dug for three days or not, wouldn't they?"

  "Impossible to know," Amlina said. "My design apparently brought the turtles. Whether they would have come if we were not also chopping at the ice is a meaningless question. All we can say for certain is that we did everything we could to free ourselves and now, with the help of the Deepmind, we are free. Is this not so, Kizier?"

  "Just so," the windbringer answered. "Is that not enough to know?"

  "I don't care how you explain," Draven answered, laughing. "It's plain to me that you are a great and mighty witch. We are glad to be your allies."

  He glanced around at his mates then drained his cup. All the Iruks drank with him, Karrol and Brinda a little grudgingly, Lonn and Eben with gusto.

  "Thank you." Amlina lowered her eyes. "It pleases me to have your confidence. The truth is, I seldom consider myself either great or mighty. More often, I wonder if I'm even competent as a deepshaper."

  "You've handled us Iruks and these Larthangans competently enough," Lonn observed, surprised by this confession of humility from the witch, not fully certain it was genuine.

  "I'd have thought you considered yourself a superior witch," Eben agreed. "That is, to judge by your demeanor, and by your having stolen the Cloak of the Two Winds and made the great witch of the East your enemy."

  Amlina smiled wryly. "There are moments when I am visited by a very lofty idea of my potential. But more often, I wonder at my temerity. The truth is, I stole the Cloak because I had no choice."

  "Tell us the tale," Draven said. "Kizier has never told us how you came to have the Cloak."

  "Very well." The witch's eyes were faraway, her expression softened by the brandy. She took another swallow, then began.

  "When I first left Larthang, I had not the slightest intention of seeking the Cloak of the Two Winds. I was a student at the Academy of the Deepmind until my twentieth year. But then I failed my requisite examinations and was denied the chance for the further studies leading to the gray mantle of a mage adept. Having no better prospects, I bought passage to the Isles of Tath, determined to pursue my studies abroad. Trinketing was my passion, the making and wielding of magical devices. It's a shaping art not currently fashionable in Larthang, which is partly why I failed as a student there. But I soon realized the Tathians could teach me little of trinketing. Their magic lore is inferior to Larthang’s in all save their alchemy. Eventually, I concluded there was only one witch in the world to teach me what I wanted to learn: Beryl, the Archimage of the East. She is known as the greatest trinketer of the age, and not only because of the Cloak of the Two Winds.

  "One night, when possessed by exactly such a lofty idea of myself as I mentioned, I decided to sail for Tallyba." Amlina's expression grew solemn, her finger caressing the rim of her cup. "As soon as I arrived in Beryl's presence, I knew I had made a disastrous mistake. I had disregarded the tales of her evil sorceries, believing that the deepshapers of Larthang would spread such reports because Beryl was an enemy they had never managed to conquer. But the tales were true: Beryl is inhumanly terrible. She does drink the blood of human sacrifices and sustains her youth with their lives. She looked straight into my mind, declaimed my fears and weaknesses, terrified me with her acuity and the power of her will. I was lucky that it really was in my mind only to learn from her. She recognized that I had my own grudge against the witches of Larthang. Perhaps she saw in me a reflection of her younger self. She had me imprisoned for a time, then forced me to serve as a kitchen drudge to humiliate me. But, in the end, she did make me a kind of apprentice and taught me some of her trinketing art and of the Nyssanian sorceries she had acquired. I knew there was a constant danger that I would become merely her thrall, but I always managed to keep a part of my mind to myself. That's what saved me in the end. After I'd been in Tallyba almost seven years, I realized that Beryl was tiring of me. I no longer amused her. Before long, she would either have drained my mind and made me into a thrall, or else killed me. So I waited until she was in deep trance, then fled from the city. I knew where she kept the Cloak of the Two Winds and had heard the chants she used to unlock the compartment. I stole the Cloak because I knew I could use it to drive a ship quickly across the seas.

  "So now you understand. I came to have the Cloak only because of circumstances. It was never a thing I set out to do."

  "Then why did you chase the Cloak once you lost it?" Lonn demanded. "Why are you chasing it now? You could just sail on to Larthang."

  "No. What I said this morning about the Cloak's potential for damaging the world is true, not something I made up to t
ry to inspire the crewmen. It was bad enough when Beryl had the Cloak, but at least she was trained in Larthang and understands the need for restraint. If the Cloak should fall to someone else, as I believe it has, there's no telling how it may be abused or how that abuse might affect the Deepmind. I set the Cloak loose in the world. I feel obliged to get it back to Larthang if I can. Perhaps it is only my inflated idea of myself once more, but I do feel that way."

  The galley was quiet, most of the Larthangans gone to bed or else passed out at the tables. The Iruks leaned over their empty cups.

  "Now you know the truth of my story," Amlina said. "Do you still consider me so great a witch?"

  "Absolutely," Draven replied. "That you survived at all proves you are formidable."

  Eben nodded. "I've had my doubts about your witchery, I admit. But the way you freed us from the ice is proof enough for me that you are mighty."

  "And you, Lonn. What do you think?" Amlina asked.

  "I agree with Draven and Eben," he answered guardedly. "You are plainly a better witch than you give yourself credit for."

  He glanced to see if Karrol or Brinda would comment, but found their faces sullen. The women were uneasy, he realized, with this bright, feminine version of Amlina, so captivating to the men of the klarn.

  This thought disturbed Lonn, for he was not sure himself how far Amlina should be trusted. He recalled how Captain Troneck had cringed before the witch’s anger, when the ship was first icebound. If he and his mates stayed in Amlina’s company long enough, might they also become her servants or, worse, her thralls?

  Yet what other choice did they have, except to sail with her, and remain on their guard?

  Then Lonn thought of something else—another choice, one he alone must make. And whether he could trust the witch or not, he saw clearly what the choice must be.

  "Perhaps it's time to retire," Amlina remarked.

  "Wait," Lonn laid a hand on her arm. "You told me to consider for a few days whether or not to continue the training. I've not been thinking about it much but ... I've had these glimpses, ideas bursting into my head that I know are true or right. I've just had one that tells me I should continue the training, that it is our best hope of finding Glyssa."