The Eve of the Maelstrom

14 Sunken Ships

“I’ve been exploring the possibilities surrounding Takhisis’s return,” Palin said. “Something... bothers me.” The anxiety in his voice was evident as he stared into the water-filled crystal bowl. Gilthanas’s face stared back at him through the widening ripples.

“Bothers you more than the dragon goddess coming back?”

“No,” Palin said with a laugh. “There is little worse that could befall Krynn. It is where she will return that is bothering me. If we guess wrong—”

“No one will be there to stop her,” Gilthanas finished. “If we guess right, we might not have the power to stop her anyway.”

“But we must guess right if we are to have the slightest chance.”

“Agreed. What are the options?” The elf’s voice sounded soft and hollow.

Palin steepled his fingers. The lines on his face were noticeably deeper, especially around his eyes, as if he had aged in the past few weeks. He released a long sigh. “The Master is confident Takhisis will appear somewhere near the Window to the Stars. It is an ancient place in Khur.”

“I have heard of it.”

“The Master says all his divinations point to that area, and yet...”

“And yet?” Gilthanas asked finally.

“The Shadow Sorcerer is adamant that the site will be Ariakan’s Rest. There is wisdom in his words as well. It is a mystic place for the Knights of Takhisis.”

“Takhisis appeared there before,” Gilthanas said.

Palin nodded. “My associates refuse to come to an agreement. Neither will consider the other’s position. They have almost come to blows over the matter.”

“Our forces are too small to split up,” the elf said.

“And the two places are far apart.”

“Are you alone?”

Palin nodded.

“Then tell me, whose counsel do you trust more? Perhaps that should make the decision.”

Palin shook his head, shrugging his stooped shoulders. “I don’t know.” The Master was the personification of the Tower of Wayreth, he thought, and the embodiment of high sorcery in the form of a man. He could wear the face of any sorcerer he chose. The Shadow Sorcerer was wrapped in mystery, as well. Perhaps he was a man, perhaps a woman. Palin had come to rely on both mages heavily during the past several years. But he did not trust one above the other.

“How can I help?” asked Gilthanas.

“You’ve got magic on your side,” Palin began, “and a dragon. If Silvara is willing, the two of you could explore the area around the Window after you’ve taken Usha and Blister to the coast, to Ak-Khurman. Check for signs and see if you notice anything unusual.”

“Khur’s a big country. It will take time.”

“It will take the others time to obtain the crown. With the Shadow Sorcerer’s help, the Master was finally able to contact Feril and Rig. It took some doing. They had sealed themselves in a cave, several miles away, to avoid dozens of spawn. The Master told them you found Dhamon, and they decided to head to Ak-Khurman.”

Palin sighed. “And I cannot risk destroying any more of the arcane items here to power a spell to send them to Ak-Khurman.”

“In Ak-Khurman—” Gilthanas began.

“Feril and the others will meet Blister and Usha there. Then they’ll all head to Dimernesti. Usha has plenty of steel with her to rent a ship.”

“And Dhamon...?”

“What of him?” asked Palin.

Gilthanas let the question hang in the air. Quickly he explained how the mysterious shadow dragon and Silvara had broken Dhamon’s link with Malys, and how the former Knight of Takhisis no longer appeared to be a threat.

“Do you trust Dhamon?” the sorcerer asked in a cracked voice.

“I trust Silvara.”

Palin cocked his head. “If there is no threat, he could be helpful. Still...”

“Your wife and Blister are capable and, I believe, safe in his company. But I’ll take the glaive away from Dhamon to be sure. He’s different, Palin, changed. But I suppose anyone would be after what he went through. Silvara claims he is completely out from under the red dragon’s control. And, as I said, I do trust Silvara.”

“Then he can accompany Usha and Blister.” Palin seemed to relax a little. “We will deal with the matter of Goldmoon’s death later. Be careful on your journey, my friend. The wilds of Khur are dangerous.”

“I have learned to be careful. And you?”

“I will go to Ariakan’s Rest.”

“What signs should we look for?”

Palin pursed his lips. “Dragons gathering,” he answered finally. “Wherever Takhisis intends to arrive, there will be other dragons and their minions. And there will be Knights of Takhisis.”

“Look, there’s some more knights!” Blister waggled her gnarled fingers toward the marketplace, indicating a trio of Legion of Steel knights who were questioning a merchant.

“Keep your voice down,” Dhamon urged. He drew Usha and Blister under an awning. “We don’t want to raise their suspicions. We’ve done nothing wrong, nothing to cause them to bother us,” he whispered. “In fact, they might be able to help us. But just in case...”

The knights moved on to another merchant and his shoppers, one stall closer.

“Let’s get to the harbor by another route, shall we? Just in case,” Usha suggested. “The Legion of Steel is honorable. It has protected the people in this town. But—”

“Just in case,” Blister finished.

The trio ducked around a corner and followed the dusty streets that wound between homes and scattered businesses. The buildings were large, some three stories tall, and made of stone with tiled roofs. Wood seemed to be scarce; even building signs and shutters were made of slate. A new home was being built on a narrow lot between two older structures. Since they’d arrived at Ak-Khurman, they’d noticed several new constructions.

“Doesn’t seem to be that many people,” Blister said. “Certainly not for all these buildings.”

“Anticipation,” Usha said. “This is one of the largest cities in Khur, and it’s the only one with a safe port.”

“So they figure more people will move here?” the kender asked.

Usha nodded. “Khur barbarians loyal to Neraka are driving people from the plains. The people have nowhere else to go. Nowhere safe.”

“And I thought the dragons were the only ones who did nasty things like that. Hey, Dhamon, when you were... you know... working for Malystryx, did she make you do nasty things?”

A tense look crossed Dhamon’s face. He had adroitly avoided talking about the time he spent under the dragon’s control, except to satisfy Gilthanas’s curiosity and win some measure of trust from the elf and Silvara. He lengthened his stride, and Usha and Blister had to hurry to keep up.

“Touchy,” the kender whispered to Usha. “He didn’t used to be so touchy, not when he had blond hair.”

The trio rounded another corner. The top of a lighthouse poked above the buildings that sprawled in front of them. Made of stone, it stretched high into the early morning sky. Khurman Tor, the lighthouse was called. The city had grown up around it. The local people had walled the city so barbarians and rampaging Neraka tribesmen would leave them alone, and they had stationed lookouts in the lighthouse to guard against threats coming from sea or land. The wall that swept around the city and down to the sea was twenty feet high and solid, with iron-bound gates manned by the Legion of Steel. Knights also walked these streets, chatting with merchants and passersby, questioning people they didn’t know.

Usha knew to expect the knights. Palin had researched the city before suggesting they meet Rig there and hire a ship. It wasn’t the site closest to the underwater realm of the sea elves, but it was the closest port not in dragon territory, and it offered a deep harbor.

They headed toward the harbor, selecting a street that cut through a small merchant district filled with butchers, bakers, and fishmongers. It was all Usha and Dhamon could do to keep Blister from darting into each shop to investigate inviting odors.

“Cinnamon,” the kender said, sniffing at a window. “Raisins, too. Apples.”

“We’ll have time for something to eat later,” Usha said. “I want to make sure we have enough steel to rent a good ship first.”

The kender cheerfully acquiesced. “And maybe we’ll even have enough left over to get Dhamon something else to wear. Something black to go with his hair. Or something a little brighter. Hey, Dhamon, did the red dragon ever—”

Dhamon scowled and walked faster still. Usha and Blister had to run to keep up with him.

The sounds of gulls crying and water gently lapping against the docks greeted them as they hurried down an especially dusty street that opened into Ak-Khurman’s bustling wharf district. The hot breeze that blew in from the ocean washed over them and loosed graying hair from Blister’s braid.

A small fortress stood on the northeastern side of the waterfront. Several Legion of Steel knights milled around outside it. There were more knights on the docks. Despite the number of people roaming the waterfront, there appeared to be no sailors or ship captains. Indeed, there were no ships moored to the docks.

But there was evidence of vessels. Usha noticed them first. Jutting barely above the waterline were several broken masts. Bits of mastheads and rigging floated in the shallow water, caught in the roots of the willows that edged the bank. Blister counted at least twelve sunken ships.

Farther out in the harbor were anchored a half-dozen ships, among them two impressive galleys. Each flew a black flag with the death lily emblem.

“Dark Knights,” Usha whispered. “Palin said the Legion of Steel ran this town.”

“They do,” Dhamon said solemnly. “But the Knights of Takhisis have blockaded it. That’s probably why the Legion of Steel knights were questioning so many people. They are looking for Dark Knight spies or sympathizers.”

“Palin couldn’t have known,” Usha continued. “He would’ve sent us somewhere else.”

“Skulls and crossbones would make me feel a whole lot better than death lilies.” Blister wrinkled her nose. “Rig was a pirate once, and I bet we could deal with pirates better than with those black knights. Wonder if the knights sunk the ships?”

“I’d bet on it,” Dhamon said grimly.

The kender put her hands on her hips and pouted. “Now how’re we gonna get to Dimernesti? Swim?”

There wasn’t a table large enough for all of them in The Flowing Flagon, so Rig and Fiona sat alone at a small table against the back wall. She had donned the rest of her armor, and presented a sharp contrast to the mariner, whose clothes hung on him in tatters.

Jasper, Groller, and Feril hugged one side of the long table near the window, all of them looking like ragged beggars. Blister, Usha, and Dhamon, dressed in new clothes, occupied the other side, picking at the food on their plates—their second meal of the day—while their companions made short work of what was in front of them.

When the companions were reunited on the waterfront just after sunset, Rig had slammed his fist into the side of Dhamon’s face. It took Jasper and Usha to keep him from drawing a dagger. The mariner refused to listen to Dhamon’s explanations about being under Malystryx’s control. However, he paid a little more attention to Blister and Usha as they relayed what Silvara told them about Dhamon and the shadow dragon. As he ate his mutton, Rig glared at Dhamon and mouthed “later.”

The others guardedly welcomed Dhamon. Jasper was the friendliest. He looked up from his meal and offered Dhamon a smile.

“I don’t like the way people are lookin’ at us, Fiona,” Rig said. “See ’em? Just staring—at us and at them.” He pointed to Dhamon’s end of the table.

“Maybe it’s the clothes some of us are wearing,” Fiona suggested. “This place doesn’t cater to the most well-to-do Ak-Khurmans, but on the other hand, the rest of the customers are far better dressed than you and—”

“My clothes?” Rig snorted.

“Or maybe it’s mine.” Her armor gleamed in the light of the oil lamp on the wall.

“Maybe they think I’m your prisoner.”

“So I’ve captured you, eh?” She smiled slyly. “Maybe, Rig Mer-Krel, they’re looking at us just because they’re nosy. We’re outsiders here. Obvious strangers. These days you can’t trust strangers.”

Rig’s eyes narrowed, and he made sure Dhamon caught his look. “Sometimes you can’t trust people you thought were your friends.”

Fiona ran her fingers up his arm, drawing his attention to her, for a few moments, at least. Then Rig glanced around the room again.

“Strangers. Yeah, that’s part of the attraction, I suppose. But look at the way that fellow is staring at Dhamon.” Rig pointed to a dark-clad man who hadn’t touched his mug of ale.

“You’re imagining things. Besides, you’re staring at Dhamon, too. He’s a striking man.” Fiona finished the last of her honey bread. “At least Dhamon has been cured of the Red’s influence.”

“Cured,” Rig chuckled, as he took Fiona’s hands. His eyes still rested on Dhamon. “Being a dragon’s pawn isn’t a disease. How are you cured of it?”

“You must give him a chance,” she returned. The young Solamnic reached her fingers to his face, turned it to meet her gaze. “Dhamon didn’t have to involve himself in this, you know. He didn’t have to come here with Usha and Blister. He could have gone his own way.”

“If Gilthanas would’ve let him—which I doubt. Who knows? That wouldn’t have been so bad, would it?” Rig snapped. “We don’t need him.” His expression softened as he stared into Fiona’s eyes. “And what about you? After we get the crown will you be going your own way, back to your order?”

“There will still be the dragons to deal with. There will be Takhisis.”

“And then?”

She smiled. “You could come back with me. You’d be welcomed in the Solamnic knights, Rig Mer-Krel. You’re an honorable man.”

He cringed at the word “honorable.” “I always considered myself a rogue.”

“An honorable rogue then.” She leaned over the table and kissed him. “Would you consider it?”

“Me, a knight?” Rig released her hands, brought his fingers up to touch her smooth cheek. “I don’t think so, Fiona. All that armor—it’s just not me.”

“Think about it,” she insisted.

Dhamon was watching Feril, outwardly oblivious to Blister’s continuing questions about where he’d been since Schallsea, what the dragon had made him do, and what it was like to have a dragon in control of your body, forcing you to do things you didn’t want to do. The Kagonesti glanced Dhamon’s way, then quickly returned to studying a whorl in the tabletop. Groller offered Dhamon a sympathetic smile.

“Feril needs time,” Blister said. “I’m sure everything will be back to normal in a little while. She’s just gotta get used to you again, you know. Maybe if your hair was blond and you were wearing something that wasn’t black and gray. Besides—”

“Blister!” Jasper’s stern gaze stopped the kender’s prattle.

For a moment. “Feril just needs time,” Blister repeated.

“And we need a ship,” Dhamon said. He took a long swallow from his mug of cider and leaned back in his chair.

“I don’t think the Knights of Takhisis are going to let us rent one of theirs,” Jasper said. “No matter how much steel we offer.” The dwarf stuffed the last of his roast beef into his mouth, then waved for dessert. “We’d better find another city with a port.”

“It’s Ak-Khurman or nothing,” Usha said. “Palin believes Takhisis’s arrival will happen within the next two months. It would take us too long to travel somewhere else.”

“So we go wait for Takhisis without the crown,” Jasper said.

“No. We’ve come to far to give up on that,” said Fiona. The Solamnic knight had walked over and was leaning over Dhamon’s shoulder.

“So let’s steal a ship,” Rig said, joining them.

Blister beamed. “A great idea. The Knights of Takhisis have so many out there anyway, they’re not going to miss one little boat.”

“A big boat,” Rig corrected. “We need a ship where we’re going.”

“When do we steal it?” Blister’s tone grew more excited. “I’ve never stolen a boat before. Sounds like it’ll be exciting. And then we can use Usha’s steel to buy you and Feril and Jasper and Fury some clothes. Fiona, too, in case she wants to wear something instead of armor. Maybe another new dress for me. We’ll save money by stealing a boat... er, ship. With what we save, we can buy new clothes and...” She wrinkled her nose at what was left of Rig’s attire, and waggled her fingers toward Jasper, Groller, and Feril. “Clothes for everybody. Baths, too. So, anyway, when are we gonna do all this?”

“Tonight. Just before dawn.” Rig lowered his voice. “When it’s real dark.” The mariner caught the dwarf and half-ogre looking at him and made a few gestures with his hands and fingers in the silent language Groller had taught him.

“Anyone figure out why they’re blockading the harbor?” the kender asked.

Fiona shook her head. “The barkeep says the knights haven’t given anyone a clue. They won’t even talk to the city officials. They just came in force almost a month ago and destroyed the ships along the docks. They even wrecked the fishing boats and killed a couple of the captains who protested and the Legion of Steel knights who tried to fight them. Ever since, they’ve been preventing anyone from entering or leaving the harbor.”

“Except us,” Blister said. “We’ll get out. After we get a boat.”

“A ship,” Rig corrected again. “Feril, come with me. And you”—he gestured at Dhamon—“Time to take a stroll and see what’s available.”

“What about me?” Blister pushed out her bottom lip. “What about Fiona and Usha?”

“I need you to come with me,” Jasper said to the kender, as he stuffed a piece of apple pie into his mouth and nodded at the mariner. He had understood Rig’s earlier gestures and knew what was needed. “Groller, too, and Fury. Hmm... Fiona and Usha better stay here and wait for us. We’ve got to get some... uh supplies. Then we’ll all meet by the docks in an hour or so. By that huge willow tree.”

The kender was quick out of her seat, beating Groller to the door. “Where we gonna buy supplies? Everything but the taverns is closed.” The dwarf nudged the kender outside, but the others could hear her shrill voice through the open doorway. “What kind of supplies? Huh?”

Feril glanced warily back and forth between Rig and Dhamon.

“Feril, I need your elven eyes,” the mariner told her. “Your vision is better than ours. I don’t want to get too close to the docks, not just yet. But I need you to get a good look at the harbor. Tell us how many knights you see on those ships and what kind of defenses the ships have.” To Dhamon, Rig said coldly, “And I want you along, traitor, because I don’t trust you out of my sight. Fiona, Jasper’s right. You should stay here.” He pointed to her armor. “You stick out a little too much.”

Fiona and Usha were left alone at the table. Usha toyed with her half-eaten piece of pie.

The Solamnic knight finally broke the silence. “Why did you come here, Usha? Blister I can understand. This is all a grand adventure to the kender. But why you? Why didn’t you stay with Palin?”

Usha speared a slice of apple on her fork, seeming to study it, then put it in her mouth. After several moments she answered. “It’s the Fist of E’li.”

“The scepter Jasper’s carrying?”

“I’m trying to remember something the elves told me about it.”

“And you think you can remember better here than with Palin in the tower?”

“I certainly can’t remember any worse.”

The knight’s expression was puzzled. Then it turned alert as she rose from her seat.

“Don’t like my company?” Usha asked.

“No, it’s that man who just left. He didn’t touch his drink. I just saw him follow Feril past the window.” Fiona stepped away from the table. “Something’s prickling at my neck now. I’ve a bad feeling about that man.” She turned away from Usha and hurried out into the night.

Usha dropped several silver pieces on the table and followed her.

Outside, Dhamon blended in with the night, his dark clothes and black hair allowing him to melt into the shadows. Feril walked at his side, not as well concealed, with Rig several paces ahead of them.

“I don’t know what I’m feeling,” she said softly. “About you. I thought I loved you. Maybe I still do. I don’t know. I...”

“I understand. I killed Goldmoon. And that changed everything.”

“It was the dragon. I know that. But it’s hard...”

“I killed Goldmoon,” he repeated. “And I almost killed Jasper, Rig, and you.”

“Dhamon, why did you join with us again?”

He was silent for a moment. “I want revenge,” he whispered. “And I can’t get it alone. Every night, all I see is the shock on Goldmoon’s face, the blood on my hands. I want the red dragon to pay. And I’ll do whatever I can to ensure that happens. Maybe it’s the only way I can redeem myself. Maybe it’s the only way I can have peace—if I deserve peace.” He took her hand, and peered through the darkness to study her face. She dropped her gaze to the street without reply. He released her hand.

“Peace.” Rig softly spat the word from in front of them. “You deserve a lot less than peace.” The journey to the harbor continued in uncomfortable silence.

Out in the bay the lights on the prows of all the knights’ ships reflected on the water like giant fireflies. A light fog was stealing in to wrap around the harbor. The trio stood silent for several minutes, watching and waiting.

“There’s a dozen ships out there,” Rig muttered finally. “We ought to be able to figure out how to steal one.”

“Seven,” Feril softly corrected. “There are seven ships.”

“Seven, a dozen, a hundred, a thousand. What difference does it make? There’re none close enough to the docks where we could reach them without a long swim.”

“Then we’ll just have to go for a long swim.” It was Fiona’s voice.

She and Usha ducked under some willow leaves. Between them they held a dark-clad man, a wad of cloth stuffed in his mouth.

“He was following you,” Fiona said, as she pinned the man against the tree trunk. “He was watching us in the tavern. I think he was listening to our conversation, too. At first I thought he was just curious, that he didn’t have anything better to do than ogle a tableful of strangers. But then I got this twitchy feeling.”

Rig stepped closer, tugged a dagger from his belt and held it up to the man’s throat. With his other hand, the mariner loosened the gag.

“You scream, you die.” It was dark under the willow, but just enough light spilled down from the moon and out of a nearby inn, so that the mariner could tell the man wasn’t frightened. There wasn’t a single drop of sweat on his brow, no telltale quiver of his lip. Rig pressed the dagger deep, drawing a thin line of blood. “Why were you following us?”

The man didn’t answer. Rig moved his face in closer, inches from the stranger’s. The man’s face was smooth, his hair short, his clothes well-made. He smelled like musk. Not a laborer. A fancy man, the mariner decided, but one who still didn’t flinch.

“Nothing’s going to make him talk,” Usha said. “We’ve already tried.”

“Well, maybe a little pain will set his tongue to wagging,” the mariner growled.

“There’s another way.” The willow leaves parted again and Jasper joined them. Blister was at his side, tugging a leather sack. Groller stood behind the pair, a sack in each hand and the wolf at his feet.

“Then demonstrate.” The mariner shoved the stranger to the ground.

The dwarf moved closer, bringing his stubby fingers near the man’s chest and closing his eyes. “I learned this from Goldmoon,” he whispered. “I just didn’t have any cause to use it before.” The dwarf had no trouble finding his inner strength this time. He’d had no trouble since his fall in the cave and his vision of Goldmoon. He nurtured the spark inside of him, feeling it quickly grow and bend to his urging.

A tingling sensation rushed from his chest and down his arms, centering on his fingers, which touched the man’s expensive dark shirt. The dwarf opened his eyes. They were wide and shining now, locking onto the man’s. The man’s stern expression relaxed noticeably and his eyes fixed on the dwarf’s.

“What’s Jasper doing?” Rig asked.

“Magic,” Feril whispered. “Of a sort I didn’t know he could cast. He’s more than a healer. He’s a mystic, like Goldmoon was.”

“Friend,” Jasper said warmly.

“Friend,” the stranger replied.

“You were following us.”

The man nodded, his eyes never leaving the dwarf’s. “Yes, following you.”

“Why?”

“Had to be certain you were the ones. Orders.”

“What orders? Who’s orders?”

“The knight-commander’s orders.”

“From the Legion of Steel?”

The man shook his head.

“You’re a Knight of Takhisis?”

“No.” The man shook his head again, keeping his eyes focused on the dwarf’s. “Not a military man. Doesn’t pay well enough. I spy for the Dark Knights. For that, they pay me well, friend. There’s plenty of steel in my pocket.”

“He’s worse than a Knight of Takhisis,” Rig mumbled.

“The knight-commander ordered you to watch us?” Surprise was in Jasper’s voice. “Us?”

“I was to watch for you. I and a few others—and the knights in the harbor. We’ve been waiting for a while. Knew you were coming to Ak-Khurman. It was just a matter of time. Had to be careful. The Legion of Steel knew there were Dark Knight spies in town. They were questioning townsfolk, trying to find us.”

“You were watching for us?” the dwarf repeated.

“A Kagonesti with an oakleaf on her face, a black man with a cutlass,” the stranger continued. “You, a short-bearded dwarf. A female Solamnic knight. A big half-ogre with a red wolf. And Dhamon Grimwulf. Spotted him a week ago, but didn’t recognize him then, too far away. Not with black hair.”

The man paused, then added, “Malys. The red overlord wants you stopped and killed. She wants Dhamon Grimwulf captured and tortured.”

“Wonderful,” the dwarf said. “A very pleasant way to earn some steel.”

“But I wasn’t paid to kill you, just to report when and where I’d seen you, where the Dark Knights could find you. I wouldn’t want to hurt you, friend. Not by my own hand, anyway.”

“So the knights blockaded the city because of us?” Jasper asked.

The man nodded. “More ships down the coast left an hour or so ago, in case you accidentally wandered into an ogre village to the south.”

“All these Ak-Khurman ships sunk,” Feril murmured. “Because of us.”

“The red spawn in the mountains were probably sent for us, too,” Fiona said. “And because that didn’t work...”

“Why?” Jasper pressed, a hint of anger creeping into his voice. “Why are the Knights of Takhisis so keen on stopping us?”

“The Red knows you mean to prevent Takhisis from returning. Wants you dead.”

“Now how could she know that? And how could she know we were coming here?” The question was Usha’s.

Behind the dwarf, Rig shot a glare at Dhamon. Yes, how could she know that? the mariner mouthed.

The stranger shrugged. “I don’t know how dragons know these things. I was just paid good steel to watch for you. I was on my way to tell the knight-commander I spotted you in the tavern.”

“And just how were you going to tell him?” Rig asked. He knelt next to the dwarf.

“A boat,” the man answered. He gestured in the direction of a massive lilac bush growing along the shore. “A boat hidden under that bush. I was going to take the boat to the knight-commander’s ship.”

“So I guess we’re not going to have to swim after all,” Fiona said.

“Good thing,” Jasper said. “I can’t swim. I’d sink like a stone.”

Rig bent next to the spy, twisting the dagger in his hand so he was carefully holding the blade in his fingers. Then he rapped the pommel against the stranger’s head. The man crumpled, unconscious, at the base of the willow.