Savage Messiah

CHAPTER XIII

When the voices first revealed themselves to him, he feared he had suddenly gone mad. Then he understood. They were the result of the activation of the Forestallment.

That had been two days ago. Now, as he stood on the terrace overlooking the broad ocean, the Enseterat had never felt more confident or more powerful.

Just as the Jin'Sai had his wizards, Wulfgar now had his own allies. But his were were infinitely more powerful in their abilities to aid him. Tristan, his mind still burdened with his tainted, untrained blood, had yet to unleash such power. And the Scroll of the Vigors-the only tool that might possibly help him heal the great orb-was irreversibly damaged.

It was late afternoon at the Citadel, and the sea was high again. Seabirds swooped and called out to one another as they skimmed the frothy waves, their sharp eyes searching the blue-green shallows for their next meal. The sky was overcast and the wind blustery, and the salt-laden air smelled pleasantly of both brine and the tangled seaweed that continually washed up against the rocks of the shore.

Turning his gaze to the bay, Wulfgar looked over to the growing fleet of strong, new ships that he had only recently released from the depths where they had been imprisoned for more than three centuries. Superior to the demonslaver vessels in every way, they would prove to be the mightiest armada of the Vagaries ever assembled. Then would come the captains to sail them. Unlike the unendowed, white-skinned slavers who had failed him, these beings had once been masterful commanders of their craft.

All this was due to the new Forestallment-and the voices it had brought. Einar had promised he would hear them, but nothing in the world could have adequately prepared Wulfgar for the experience.

It had been early evening, and the Enseterat and his queen were taking dinner on the spacious balcony of their quarters. Wulfgar was about to ask her how she was feeling, when, to Serena's horror, he suddenly clutched the sides of his head. With a scream of agony, he fell backward, chair and all, and began to writhe uncontrollably on the marble floor. Helpless, Serena watched as Wulfgar struggled in the grip of something neither of them understood.

Then, fearing for her husband's life, she sent for Einar. But by the time the lead consul arrived, Wulfgar's pain had departed and he had calmed.

Rising from the floor, the Enseterat turned and looked at Einar and his wife. There was a renewed sense of power and majesty about him, a greatness that they had never seen. As though he were the only person in the world, Wulfgar silently turned his gaze away from them and out toward the shifting sea.

That was when the voices first came, a soulful chorus that overwhelmed him. Out of sheer reverence, he fell to his knees.

"Wulfgar," they began, "you have finally been granted the Forestallment that allows us to commune with your mind."

"Who are you?" he thought. Instinctively, he knew that he did not need to speak aloud to be heard by them.

"We are the Heretics of the Guild." The voices were melodic, soothing.

"We welcome you to our service. The pain you just endured was the result of our initial communication; you shall not have to bear it again. Despite the initial defeat of your demonslaver fleet, you have done well. The Orb of the Vigors continues to bleed, and we must allow nothing to interfere with that. Your employment of the female assassin was a wise precaution, but in the end, you shall require far more than just her unendowed skills to secure the prizes you seek. You must remember well the information we are about to impart to you, for what we grant you now will lead you to the final victory."

The chorus faded, and was replaced by a whirling riot of azure numbers and letters roaring in his mind-all of them in Old Eutracian. He closed his eyes and stared at the glowing formulas that danced brightly against the infinite blackness behind his eyelids. Finally they slowed, and he began to grasp what they represented.

They comprised an index to the massive Scroll of the Vagaries.

Wulfgar's heart leaped for joy. Until now, both the scroll's great size and its overwhelming complexity had made it difficult to decipher. The calculations for the thousands of Forestallments it contained were recorded upon it randomly. No concern had been given to categorizing what type of gift each individual formula might grant, or what subdivision of the craft it fell into.

As a result, it took weeks for his consuls to find any particular set of calculations. But with the index at their disposal, they would be free to peruse the scroll at will and quickly make its teachings their own.

Over the course of the last two days, Wulfgar and Einar had done exactly that. The calculations that the Heretics had granted the Enseterat gave him the power not only to free his new fleet from the depths, but to summon the majestic beings who would man them. It would be an unparalleled force able to crush the Jin'Sai, his Minions of Day and Night, and the wizards of the Redoubt. But first Wulfgar had to retrieve the ships.

Wulfgar smiled. The clearing sky revealed the three Eutracian moons, their magenta glow shining down upon the ocean. He raised his hands.

Almost at once the sky crackled with azure lighting, and the Isle of the Citadel trembled before the cascades of thunder. Concentrating with all of his might, he caused the water of the bay to burble and roil.

First a ship's crow's nest appeared, breaking through the waves. The tips of several masts soon followed. Then the massive hull and superstructures emerged, their lengths awash with seawater. After more than three centuries, the great vessel finally rose to float again upon the ocean beside its sisters. Wulfgar lowered his hands and stared at the vessel with rapt admiration.

The Black Ships-the most powerful armada that ever commanded the seas.

As the thunder and azure lightning abated, Wulfgar examined the vessel. Even though he had liberated several of them by now, each time another rose from the depths his jaw dropped in wonder.

With ten full masts and spars as thick as several tree trunks combined, the gigantic black frigate was easily quadruple the size of the largest vessels in his failed demonslaver fleet. For a time her hulk rocked dangerously to and fro, as if she were trying to again become accustomed to lying atop the waves. Finally she found her natural balance and settled down, her only motion coinciding with the normal movement of the sea.

The entire ship was an inky black. Moonlight twinkled on the seawater still running off her topsides, hull, and masts. As the Heretics had told him, eight full decks lay within her, and a massive hinged door took up nearly her entire stern. It could be opened and lowered to a safe distance just above the waves-much the way a drawbridge could be lowered from within the walls of a palace. Even the frigate's massive, furled sails were of the darkest black, as were those of the other Black Ships already anchored nearby.

Wulfgar took a moment to rest before attempting to salvage another of the menacing warships.

"Well done, my lord," Einar said from his place near his master's side. "All is nearly in place. Very soon the Jin'Sai will finally taste true defeat, and the world will be yours. I am proud to stand by your side in this greatest of endeavors."

Wulfgar only smiled. As he raised his arms, the moonlit skies began to cry out once more with the coming of the azure lightning and the deafening thunder. The surface of the bay burbled and roiled again, and another massive crow's nest poked through the surface of the waters, searching out its freedom.