The Dragonstone

CHAPTER 5 9

Through deep waters indigo blue fared the Brise on her southwesterly course, the little ship tacking on long, long beats against the winds blowing west to east across the wide Avagon Sea. As before, the companions took turns sailing the ship, with Delon and Ferret and Alos crewing from dawn till dusk, while Burel joined with Aiko and Arin and Egil to sail the seas at night. A crew at a time, they also took turns sleeping in the cabin below, there being but four bunks in all. Still, there was considerable overlap between one crew coming on watch and the other crew taking leave, and during these times- unless it was raining-by unspoken consent the cabin was ceded for lovers' trysts, while those left on deck relaxed.

At the mid of night of the winter solstice, in the restricted confines of the sloop, Arin began chanting and stepping out the Elven rite hallowing the turn of the sun, with Delon and Egil guiding Burel through the steps, while Arin and Aiko guided Ferai. They were lost in the ritual and in Arin's chant when the silver half moon arose and cast its argent light aglance across the celebrants.

Below in the cabin Alos was awakened by the canticle and the pace of gliding steps. He listened for a while, but the rhythmic cadence soon lulled him back to sleep.

Six days later in early morn they sighted the Island of Gjeen, and for the next three days they rounded its southern flank. As the island disappeared over the horizon astern, Egil looked up from the charts. "Sabra," he proclaimed. "We'll head for Sabra to reprovision."

Delon glanced at the map. "The city at the edge of the Karoo?"

Egil nodded.

"Hmm, wasn't that one of the places where the Jutlanders might go to look for us?"

Egil grunted. "Aye. But that was two months back. I think that they would have come and gone by now."

"Jutlanders?" asked Burel, frowning. Then he looked at Aiko and his face brightened. "Ah, Queen Gudrun's hounds, eh?"

Aiko nodded, her gaze impassive, but she said nought.

Alos sighed. "I wouldn't want to meet up with them again."

Delon laughed. "Alos, old man, you were passed-out drunk both times."

Alos bristled. "Nevertheless!"

Egil held up a hand. "Look, we'll sail into the mouth of the port, and if we see a Dragonship we'll sail right back out. I think we've enough water to get us to Khalish."

"Khalish?" Delon leaned over and gazed again at the chart.

"Here, in Hyree," said Egil, pointing.

"Oh. Hyree. I'd rather not, if we have a choice, for they're almost as bad as the Kistanians."

At high noon on the sixth day of January they sailed into the harbor at Sabra, the curve of the city before them baking in the sun.

They discovered from the harbormaster that not only was there no Dragonship in port, none had been seen for a number of years, and that one but briefly.

With Aiko and Arin and Ferai's faces covered in veils, they pressed through the throngs and took rooms at the Crescent and Star, a modest inn on the slopes above the bay. From their balconies and to the south, and far beyond the city walls, they could see the great arc of the erg, the sands of the mighty Karoo shimmering in the heat. Yet this vast desert was not on their minds, but a serpentine cove instead.

"All right," said Alos, pointing at the sketch he had drawn. "Here's the fangs. See these three? They're the guide-rocks. We zigzag through all the other fangs this way"-on the parchment his finger scritched south-southwest, then jinked north-northwest, then scraped southwest-"we pass the first guide-rock close to larboard while running toward the second, jibing 'round the second one starboard tight, then running straight for the third one, taking it close to larboard, and then swing true southwest and into the throat of the snake."

"How do we single out the three guide-rocks?" asked Egil.

"The first two are taller than the other fangs"-Alos pointed-"the first tall one is somewhere out here on the edge, while the second is down 'round here among the other rocks. The third one, about here, is, um, marbled with white veins." He looked up at Egil. "See, it's simple, once you know."

Aiko, not taking her eyes from the map, asked, "Where is the town?"

"Just beyond the first bend. Out of sight."

Now the Ryodoan glanced up, first at Egil and then to Alos. "And Ordrune's tower?"

"I didn't see no tower," said Alos, scratching among the long hairs of his scraggly white beard. "Just the town, though the cove itself slithers way beyond-deep into the jungle for miles. We didn't go past the town."

"And the entrance to the cove," asked Burel, "is it warded?"

"They keep a daywatch," said Alos. "Sounded the alarm when we escaped. But as to a nightwatch, I don't know. There was some talk that the Rovers scavenge ships that founder on the rocks, and that's why they keep a watch on the entrance. As to the truth of it, I cannot say."

"I would think they keep a watch to warn of the King's fleet, and they hide the town for the very same reason," said Aiko.

"When is the best time to take the Brise in?" asked Egil.

"High noon, so I can see how to maneuver," replied Alos.

"No, Alos," said Aiko. "In the dark of night to avoid the watch."

"But I won't be able to see," snapped the oldster.

"How about dusk instead?" asked Ferret. "No, wait. If we can see to sail in, then the warders can see us, as well."

"Indeed," said Arin, "and unless we have a ruse we can successfully carry out, we must slip in unseen."

"We won't make it past those fangs if I'm blind," said Alos.

"I will be thine eyes, Alos," said Arin. "I see quite well by starlight alone."

"What about a ruse?" asked Delon. "Any ideas?"

"Does anyone speak Kistanian?" asked Ferret.

All shook their heads, No.

"Then a ruse is not likely to succeed. Besides, an Elf, a Ryodoan, and five white northerners do not look at all like Kistanians."

"I could stain myself as did my father," said Burel, "but I cannot speak the tongue." He frowned, then said, "Perhaps I could go in as a deaf mute."

"But we couldn't all stain our skins and pretend to be deaf mutes," said Ferret. "I mean, it would be beyond credibility."

Silence fell, and after a moment, "How about Hyranian? Anyone speak it?" asked Delon. "They're allies, I hear."

Again all shook their heads.

"Then for the moment I would think a ruse is out," said Delon. He turned to Alos. "And you say that the shore is fanged like this for miles?"

"Fifty, sixty, eighty miles in either direction," replied the oldster.

Aiko looked across at Egil. "For the moment, let us presuppose that we have won past the fangs. If so, then I would think we next find the tower."

Egil nodded. "And reach the chamber atop and get the scroll. That will not be easy, for the walls are well warded." Egil turned the parchment over and sketched as much as he knew of the layout of Ordrune's fortress.

As he drew, Ferret asked, "What if we don't find the tower? It might not be in Serpent Cove, you know."

Before Egil could answer, Aiko said, "Then one by one we take prisoners from the town until we discover someone who knows its whereabouts."

"But, Aiko," protested Arin, "we may collect many prisoners ere we find one who knows. What will we do with the captives till then?"

Aiko looked impassively at Arin, and finally said, "We cannot leave anyone alive who might warn the Mage."

"But that would be cold-blooded murder of innocents," said Arin.

"Pah!" snorted Alos. "There are no innocent Kistanians."

Arin looked at Alos and shook her head in rue. "In that, my friend, thou art mistaken. All races, no matter how corrupt, have innocents among them."

Again Alos snorted, then asked, "Even the Foul Folk?"

Arin's eyes widened in sudden shock, and she did not know how to respond.

Egil, finishing his sketch, said, "Let us just hope the need to take prisoners doesn't come." He slid the draft to table center, saying, "Much will depend upon what we find when we get there, yet this is what I know about Ordrune's stronghold."

Delon studied the drawing, then tapped his finger on the parchment. "Are there any windows atop this tower?"

"Four. Unbarred," said Egil. "One aligned with each of the cardinals."

"Well then, look at this," said Delon, pointing. "The tower is at a corner in the fortress walls. The banquette doesn't seem to go around the outer curve, but only about the inner instead. If that's true, then perhaps we can scale undetected this outer wall and go in through a window, if they are large enough, that is."

"Though it might be a squeeze for Burel," said Egil, "I think we can all get through."

"Not me," said Alos. "I told you I ain't going to fight no Mage. I'll just wait on the boat. There'll be plenty of places to conceal the Brise … it is a jungle, you know- the whole island-with streams pouring into the cove. We'll just find one of them and slip the Brise into hiding."

Egil grunted an assent, then he looked 'round the table. "Who here has experience in scaling tower walls?"

Delon said, "It should be no different from rock climbing, and I for one have clambered many a sheer rock."

Aiko's gaze was impassive as she said, "I have scaled tower walls in war."

Burel looked at her in surprise, then said, "In the basin of the temple, I often climbed the face of the cliffs."

"I've not climbed rocks in particular," said Ferret, "but I've scaled many a sheer building. Climbing a tower should not be that different in kind. Yet if it is, then if someone will set a rope, I'll be up in a flash."

"As will I," said Arin.

Delon turned to Ferret. "You've climbed buildings? Part of your cirque training?"

Ferret looked at him, something unreadable in her eyes, but she remained silent.

"All right," said Egil, "then here is but one plan of many: some will climb ahead and set ropes for the rest of us to swarm up. When we get ready to enter the chamber, those who fight best will go first: Aiko, me, Burel, Delon. Should Ordrune or some of his lackeys be inside, we kill them. When it is safe, Ferret will open the chest and Arin will find the scroll; the rest of us will stand ward."

"Then we get the Hel out, eh?" asked Delon.

"Back the way we came," said Egil, nodding. He looked 'round the table and received like nods from all.

"Well and good," said Aiko. "Now let us conceive another plan. One, say, where we go over the wall instead of climbing the tower…"

For the next two days they fumed and fretted about how to get into the cove unseen, alternatives as to how to covertly and overtly assault the tower, what to do should the tower not be found, what to do should the scroll not be found, what to do with any prisoners they might take, how to get back out of the tower and cove, and what to do if detected during the execution of any of their plans.

During those same two days, Egil and Alos reprovisioned the Brise with food and water. In addition, they purchased whatever gear they deemed was needed to carry out any one of their many alternative plans to obtain the scroll: climbing gear, ropes, additional weaponry, lanterns, oil, and so on. Ferret made rounds of several locksmiths and tinkers and jewelers and even a blacksmith or two, and added to her already extensive set of fine lockpicking tools. Aiko and Burel continued to practice at blades, though they rented camels and rode away to the headland to do so beyond sight and sound of any would-be observers. Arin visited herbalists and healers and acquired tisanes and poultices and herbs and roots and other such, should a range of healing be necessary. And on the third night in port Alos slipped away to a wine merchant; just after dawn, as Aiko hefted him over her shoulder and took him aboard the Brise and below, Egil said, "Seems as if the only time he'll get on a ship is when he's dead drunk or running in fear."

Some nine days after the turn of the year, the day they sailed from Sabra, the winter rains began sweeping across the Avagon Sea, like long grey brooms driving white-capped waves over the darkling deeps, with blowing, scudding foam flying in the wind before them. But in between the frequent storms the sun shone down upon the little sloop, her prow shouldering into the rolling brine as she beat toward a far distant isle, bearing her rede-driven crew closer to fateful but unknown ends.

Yet the Isle of Kistan was many days away, and the sloop a confining rig, and because there was little room to do aught else, they spoke of many things…

"Look, Burel," said Delon, at the change of shift, "I asked this of the others, back when we had not yet come to the Temple of the Labyrinth. Then we were talking about whether or no there is an afterlife, but it seems just as valid to ask it of you against the light of your philosophy."

Burel at the tiller looked through the twilight and across at the bard. "Say on."

"Well, it's just this: what good does it do to try to be fair and just if our paths are already fixed? And if paths are immutable, determined, then nothing we do will change things one whit: evil will be evil, good will be good, and nought anyone does will move us away from our preordained track. And if, for example, I must be good to obtain the reward of a pleasant afterlife, but if my predetermined path is to be evil, well then, how can I possibly be held accountable for the evil I will have done?" Delon flung his arms wide, taking in all that could be seen. "I mean, isn't it the fault of those who set the planes in motion? Aren't they the ones to be held accountable since they determined my path at the moment of creation? And another thing: why are we even here if everything is already determined? Why play out a story which, as you say, is one completely told?"

Burel shrugged. "I know not the minds of those who let slip the leash of existence, but if they are indeed all powerful, all knowing, then how can they not know down to the finest detail how each of us will react as we are acted upon and as we act upon one another? If they are all knowing, then they must apprehend the outcomes of each and every last thing."

"Perhaps," said Delon, "they deliberately created something with ambiguity in its nature. Perhaps it is as Ferret says, and they gave us free will. If so, then they may not know that which is to come."

Burel shrugged. "You may be right, my friend, but then again you may be wrong. Yet right or wrong, I know not how to answer your questions with any certainty."

Delon stroked his jaw. "I understand, Burel. But listen, if everything is already determined, if the story is completely told, I can't think of a single good reason as to why we are even here. Can you?"

Burel laughed.

"What's so amusing?" asked Delon, smiling.

"Ah, my friend, you have just asked me: what is the purpose of life?"

Delon sighed and shook his head. "I did, didn't I?" He looked out to sea with its sapphirine waves rolling from rim to rim. But then he turned back to Burel and said, "Still, Burel, given your philosophy, can you think of even a single reason, good or no, as to why we are here?"

Burel frowned in thought for a moment, but finally said, "Perhaps there is a clue in what Lady Aiko related as a Ryodoan belief: perhaps we are born and born again, living many lives before we reach Paradise, or reach the next world, or move on to whatever awaits, indeed if there is anything awaiting us at all. If it is true that our souls migrate from one life to the next, then it may be that all is predetermined so that each of us will learn by experience exactly what it is to be good and to be evil and to be a mixture of each, what it is to be hated and loved and ignored, to be a thief and a murderer and a rapist and a priest and a devout worshipper and an unbeliever and any other thing you can name, including worms and gnats and snakes and all other things which swim and slither and crawl and walk and fly. And perhaps when we have learned all-all sides of what it is that we can do and be- perhaps then and only then are we permitted to leave this world and progress to the next, be it Paradise or no. For then and only then may we have lived enough and know enough to measure up to this new place in which we will then find ourselves."

"Good grief, Burel, that would mean we'd need live countless lives throughout an eternity!"

"Don't take me wrong, Delon: I'm not saying that I know this to be true. I am also not saying that one should countenance evil, or believe in the migration of the soul, or in Paradise, or in anything else whatsoever. I am merely saying that I do not know aught for certain, yet I have faith: faith in the goodness of Ilsitt; faith that those above the gods are all knowing and, hence, they know all outcomes, then and now and forever; faith that what we do is preordained; and lastly, faith that one day I will know."

Delon took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Finally he said, "Burel, you are indeed a keeper of faith."

Burel glanced forward to where Aiko stood in the bow, then turned to Delon once again. "There is, of course, one thing I do know for certain."

Delon cocked his head. "And that is…?"

"I do love Lady Aiko."

Delon laughed and lifted his voice in a brief but glorious song of adoration unbound.

When quiet fell again, Egil looked at Burel and said, "I once would have claimed that the purpose of life is to live bravely, but experience has taught me that living bravely is not enough. Besides, living bravely is not a purpose at all, but merely a manner of thinking and behaving, a manner in which one gains approval from one's love and family and clan… and perhaps from the gods themselves. Perhaps our only purpose in life is to gain the approval of the gods."

"I would not go too far down that path, Egil," said Burel.

"And why is that?"

"Let me give you an example: the Fists of Rakka say that the purpose in life is to fear Rakka, to worship Him, to obey Him. They claim there is no God but Rakka, and we are here to glorify Him."

Egil shook his head. "I could not glorify a god who rules through fear."

Burel nodded. "Neither could I, yet this is an example of how one goes about gaining the approval of a given god."

"Ah, Burel, I see."

Aiko made her way back from the bow and sat down beside Burel. He took her hand. "Tell me, Aiko, what is the purpose of life?"

She looked at him and finally said, "The first rule of life is to live."

"Nothing more?"

"Nothing more."

Alos snorted. "If you ask me, the only reason we are here is so the gods can have someone to meddle with for entertainment."

Delon laughed. "I think you have it, old man. If indeed the gods-or those above the gods-are responsible for life, they did it to be entertained. And that is our purpose: to put on a show."

Burel looked at Ferret, but she merely shrugged, and so his gaze moved on to Arin.

The Dylvana cleared her throat. "We can't know what the prime movers had in mind when they set all in motion. Perhaps each of us is but an insignificant link in a long chain which arose from a lowly beginning and is meant to span to some exalted end. Just where that chain began, I cannot say; nor can I say where it now stands nor where it will ultimately end, if indeed it will end at all; for I know not the minds of those who forged the very first link. Yet each of us is but a link from the past to the future, and none I know of can say what the chain overall is meant to do. In this, I believe Ferai has the right answer."

Delon turned to Ferret, his eyes wide. "What did you say, luv?"

"I didn't say anything," Ferret answered. "I merely shrugged my shoulders, for when it comes to the purpose of life, I simply do not know."

"Exactly so," said Arin. "Exactly so."

"According to the charts," said Egil, "we're verging into Rover waters. Keep a sharp eye, and if you spy a sail-"

"A maroon sail," blurted Alos, his voice high and tense.

"Ah, yes, a maroon sail, well then, call all hands and make ready to drop our own canvas."

"Drop our own canvas?" asked Ferret. "But why?"

"So we'll be harder to spot," replied Egil. "Our hull rides low in the water, and a bare stick-a bare mast, that is-will be difficult for them to see. But should they spot it regardless, well then, with all hands haling, we can be up and running within twenty beats of a heart."

"Can we outrun a Rover?" asked Delon.

Egil turned up a hand and looked to Alos. Drops of perspiration clung to the oldster's upper lip and he snapped, "Adon's balls, how should I know?"

Egil swung back to Delon. "Perhaps they'll not bother to come after us when they see we're but an insignificant sloop and not a fat mercantile ship instead."

Aiko growled and gestured to Burel and Arin, saying, "Should any draw near they'll first have to deal with our arrows, and I've seen Dara Arin's skill, and I know my own and Burel's. And should that fail to stop them, then they'll have to answer to the edge of our steel when we board them."

"When we board them"?" asked Delon, then laughed.

He was joined by the others, all but Alos, who sat at the tiller heaving and puffing, his breath coming in tremulous gasps.

For twenty days and twenty nights, through fair weather and foul, the Brise had cut through the Avagon Sea, beating a zigzag away from Sabra to run a westerly course. And in all that time they had seen but one other ship and absolutely no land whatsoever, not even a tiny isle. But just at dusk on the twentieth day, with the seas yet running high from the blow of the day before, below the thin crescent of a new moon standing on the far western rim, like ebony clouds of a gathering storm lying low in the distance ahead, they saw land at last, seemingly black in the onrushing night.

"There it is," said Egil, "the Island of Kistan."