Maquesta Kar-Thon Page 12

  "I thought I'd suffocate in there! I thought the imps had taken over the ship! What happened? Why are we still alive?"

  Vartan pointed to the ki-rin in the sky, its wings pulling strongly and surely, its coat shimmering a pale, clear gold in the dawning sun. Hvel forgot about being locked up and stared in awe at the magnificent creature. As they watched, the lead Belwar held in his mouth slackened. The ki-rin tilted its wings and began circling back on the Perechon. Hvel and Vartan scrambled out of the way as Belwar dropped the rope, following it down to perch gracefully on the edge of the upper deck.

  Maquesta, who had been helping with the clean-up, strode forward to greet the creature and thank it. Since the sun was rising, Ilyatha had retired to his cabin belowdecks.

  "Are you the captain?" the ki-rin asked as she approached him, his voice as melodious as the sweet singing of the thrush.

  "I am captain of the Perechon, and I wish to thank you," replied Maquesta. "We would have been lost without your help, and other lives besides ours forfeit in consequence," she added, thinking of Melas and Ilyatha's daughter, Sando. "As captain, I accept the debt we owe as my responsibility and pledge to repay it in any way you wish." Maquesta stared into Belwar's glittering violet eyes, encountering great intelligence and compassion there.

  "My pay is your smile," Belwar replied. "But tell me, what brings the Perechon to this part of the Blood Sea? You are approaching a dangerous passage between Wavend and Saifhum and the Outer Reach of the Maelstrom. What lies there could pale next to the Blood Sea imps."

  Unwilling to reveal the full truth to a creature for the most part unknown to her, despite his brave actions, Maq decided to tell only part of the story.

  "We have been hired by Lord Attat of Lacynos to pick up and bring back a special cargo. The sooner we return, the better our reward. I was attempting to save some time with this route."

  The violet of Belwar's eyes deepened in anger to dark purple, and his regard hardened.

  "Had I known you worked for Lord Attat, I wouldn't have helped you. I would have let the imps kill you and destroy this ship. He is my sworn enemy, and all the hate I hold in my heart is for him." Much of the music left Belwar's voice as he spoke these words. "I want nothing to do with any who traffic with him."

  The ki-rin prepared to fly off. Just then, Tailonna glided forward, the shells braided into her long, blue hair clicking together rhythmically. When Belwar caught sight of her he paused and bowed respectfully. Standing next to Maq, Tailonna returned the acknowledgment.

  "I fear our captain has told you too little of what we are doing here." Tailonna glanced sideways at Maq, with a look as close to a plea for understanding as one could get from an elf. Maq fumed inwardly at the Dimernesti's effrontery. "She does not understand the origin of your animosity."

  Here Tailonna turned to address Maq directly. "When you were in Attat's palace, did you not notice the skin hanging behind the chair on the dais?

  Maq thought a minute. That day now seemed so distant. She went back over her walk with her father down the length of that imposing hall. Then she nodded slowly. "Yes, I remember. I didn't recognize what creature the skin came from. It was golden, with scales and wings." Her voice died away. She turned back toward Belwar, who stood now with his head bowed, a great sadness evident in his demeanor.

  "That was the skin of a ki-rin," Maq said.

  Belwar nodded. He brought his head up, his eyes now flaming with anger. "Yes. It is the skin of my brother, Viyeha. We had been playing a game we sometimes trifled with in and around the peaks of tall mountain ranges. Tag, I think you call it. We were in the Worldscap Mountains, on Karthay. Viyeha misjudged the opening between two peaks and-injured one of his wings. It was serious enough that we had to wait there a few days for it to heal before he could fly again. We used our magical abilities to create a comfortable lair and of course were able to conjure all the food and drink we needed.

  "After two days I…" Here Belwar looked down. "I became impatient. I did not enjoy the inactivity. I began leaving for the greater part of each day, telling Viyeha I needed to patrol the island, but really just wanting to get away. On the fifth day when I returned from my flight, I found only the stripped carcass of my dead brother. And I found a great and irreparable sadness in my heart." Belwar's voice choked, and he paused to regain his composure.

  "Attat had been leading an expedition into those mountains, trying to capture a new addition for his menagerie, when he stumbled upon our lair. Viyeha was asleep, or he would have anticipated the attack. As it was, the dozen minotaurs and half-dozen ogres Attat led were able to throw a net over my brother and slit his throat." Belwar spoke bitterly.

  "An eaglet who nested above the lair witnessed everything and told me. It happened in the morning, soon after I had left. By the time I returned late in the day, Attat and his party must have vacated the island. I could not find them. But I have sworn vengeance. Some day when I find Attat outside his palace fortress, I shall exact it."

  "We wish you all speed in doing so," Maq said fervently. 'Tailonna was correct. I was not certain of your sympathies, so I did not tell you the whole story of why we are here. Attat holds leverage over us." She explained to Belwar about Melas; Ilyatha's daughter, Sando; Tailonna's capture; and Bas-Ohn Koraf's situation.

  The ki-rin listened attentively. When Maquesta concluded the tale, he remained silent for a moment, then appeared to reach a decision. Belwar spread his wings, flapped them once, then spoke.

  "I will remain nearby, keeping close watch on the Perechon, for the rest of your voyage. I have some responsibilities to attend to that may take me away from you on occasion, but never so far that Ilyatha can't summon me." Belwar paused, his expression serious.

  "I will help you because you are deserving on your own merits. Your voyage may also present me with an opportunity to confront my enemy. But I fear there are other reasons to help. I have been troubled in recent years by signs of evil doings in the lands that lay to the west of the Blood Sea. I sense that the forces of good and evil are shifting out of balance, and we must all fight that in any way we can. And I think we can all agree which force Attat is aligned with."

  Chapter 8

  The Outer Reach

  The next day's survey of the damage revealed the Perechon to be battered, but not ruinously so. Several of the sails were rent, and Vartan and Hvel were sitting on the deck, busy patching them with sheets and thin blankets. Vartan caught Maquesta's eye as she paced about, inspecting the damage in the bright sunlight.

  "The sails won't hold, Captain," he told her. "Oh, they'll work for a day or two. Then I think Hvel and I will be back at this again. It's not that we can't mend the sails well. It's that these sails have been mended so many times that there will be more thread from our needles in them than cloth."

  Hvel coughed to get her attention. "Maquesta, some of us have been talking, comparing how many coins we have between us. It isn't much. But…" He returned to sewing as he finished. "We've collected two dozen steel pieces. That, plus what you have left over from that evil Attat might get us at least one new sail."

  She smiled and sat on the deck with them. "I appreciate that, Hvel, Vartan. We need new sails, that's for certain. I'll take you up on your offer, and the first time this ship makes some money, I'll pay everyone double who contributed for the sails."

  She rose and resumed her inspection.

  The imps had succeeded in battering a hole in the bottom of the longboat. Lendle assured Maq he could repair it, but she was skeptical when she saw him lay out a piece of parchment, grab his chalk, and start diagramming the repair—and a few enhancements.

  The top of the mizzenmast, where the imps had been tugging to and fro, showed a hairline crack. Maq was seeing to this repair herself, reinforcing the wood and wrapping cord about it as added insurance. She scowled. If she had her way—and enough coins—she'd buy new masts and new sails.

  Finished, she climbed up the mainmast and started scrutinizing it. She f
elt the wood and tested its strength. Her face clouded with concern. It was strong, but it was about as old as she was, and the ship had been through a lot lately. No cracks, but it was heavily weathered, and it would need to be reinforced. Looking down from her vantage point, she saw her crew working hard. No one was idle, and none of them seemed to be complaining. Even Tailonna was helping, though it was apparent the sea elf was not doing anything too strenuous.

  A section of the deck railing had broken away and would have to be replaced with ropes temporarily. Fritzen saw to this, as his acrobatic talents let him dangle over the side of the ship and nimbly attach the ropes to the existing railing—while also inspecting the wood about the portholes, which some of the imps had chipped away.

  Lendle's pot and pan holder in the galley was in tatters, a development that pleased Maq. The gnome indicated he would fix it, but first he had to finish his plans for the longboat and take care of replacing a connecting rod that had been destroyed by the explosion in his oar engine.

  Koraf discovered that the most pressing need for repairs and replacements came not in the area of equipment, but supplies. The imps had methodically punctured all but one of the barrels of fresh water that the Perechon carried, and that crucial supply had drained away during the night. As much as she hated to take the time, Maq knew they would have to stop in the port city of Sea Reach on Saifhum to replace the water and purchase some more food with the dozen steel coins left from Attat. Perhaps they could buy a smaller sail with what the men collected. Koraf wanted the damaged crates, barrels, and bins to be junked. No use carrying around garbage, he said. However, he was quick to remove the iron rings about the barrels, thinking they might come in useful for something.

  An hour later Maquesta found herself curiously eyeing the longboat, which was meticulously patched in the center. A lever-and-pulley mechanism had been installed near the front bench, and it connected to a rod that ran down the side of the boat. Following the rod, Maq saw that beneath the longboat was a bright green finlike projection on a swivel. She tested the lever, and miraculously it turned the fin this way and that. According to the diagram Lendle had left on the seat, the apparatus would make the boat easier to steer and would require less rowing. He saw her looking at his handiwork, grinned broadly, scratched his nose, and said he had other things to attend to.

  With that, the gnome bounded away to his putterings, pleased that she had not criticized his invention. In the cargo hold and other indoor areas, he often had the company of Ilyatha, who had taken an interest in the mechanical workings of the ship, as well as a liking to Lendle. For the gnome's part, he confessed to Maquesta that in the shadow warrior, he had found the perfect companion—outside of another gnome that is. He, Lendle, could speak as fast as he wanted with Ilyatha. The shadowperson, with his telepathic abilities, always understood.

  Maquesta, with her right hand firmly on the king's spoke, glanced to the horizon. The attack of the imps and the damage they had inflicted on the sails slowed the Perechon's progress. And it hurt the crew's morale. Still, it was obvious they were a determined bunch, and she could think of no other people she would rather associate with. Shortly after midday the sea's rusty red waters began heaving into great swells, indicating their nearness to the Maelstrom's Outer Reach. The Blood Sea took its name from this color, the result of red sands stirred up when the city of Istar collapsed and kept in constant suspension by the resulting Maelstrom at the center of the sea. The Perechon began a sickening up-and-down motion caused by first climbing then slipping into the trough of the huge swells.

  Maq leaned hard into the wheel, steering the Perechon always to the north, trying to keep to the far edge of the Outer Reach. She was so preoccupied she didn't hear Fritzen pad up behind her.

  "You've a good crew," he said, startling her. "They've done about everything they can with the limited supplies. I've some contacts in Sea Reach. Maybe I can borrow enough coins to get you a new sail for the mainmast."

  She turned toward him, a smile growing on her face. "That would be wonderful, Fritzen."

  "Fritz," he corrected her.

  "All right, Fritz," she replied. "The men have collected two dozen steel. Perhaps with that—and with what your friends will loan you—we can purchase a few new sails. Better sails should improve our speed. And I wouldn't be worrying so much over them."

  "Of course," he added, a touch of mischief to his deep voice, "if I get them to loan me the coins, I'll need some guarantee that I have a job here. My friends will insist that I pay them back. And I can't make any promises unless I know I've steady work."

  "You'll have a job here as long as you want it," she replied, trying to sound businesslike, though she was giddy that he was asking to stay on long-term. "I should be the one to pay them back, though. Any money you earn is yours to keep." She paused and bit her bottom lip. "I should warn you, Fritz, sometimes a good bit of time goes by between paydays on the Perechon. We haven't had a lot of luck landing decent assignments."

  "My friends will understand," he said softly. "Besides, after we get your father back, this ship's luck will change. Fortune could blow your way."

  "Fritzen!" Koraf bellowed at him from the bow. The minotaur was motioning toward the bowsprit.

  The half-ogre sighed. He was enjoying Maquesta's company, and he would have liked to stay with her a bit longer. "I told him I'd strengthen the bowsprit," Fritz said. "Your first mate is an able seaman, but I don't think he fancies tasks that might land him in the water."

  "Minotaurs can swim," Maq replied laughing. "Very well in fact. But they are not the fastest of swimmers. Besides, you're the agile one. He's picking the right man for the job. That's the mark of a good first mate."

  The half-ogre flashed her a wide grin, saluted, and dashed toward the bow.

  For nearly two hours Maq fought the constant pull southward, toward the inner rings of the Maelstrom. An icy rain began to fall, and the sky erupted with thunder and lightening. Maq was about to call for help when she saw Koraf mounting the steps leading to the upper aft deck. He nodded to her by way of greeting, ever slightly formal. When he motioned that he would take over the helm, she gladly gave it up. As she had in Attat's dungeon, Maquesta felt she could trust this particular minotaur. Maq remained near the helm to ascertain that Koraf could indeed handle the wheel in this weather. She felt gratified at the level of skill he displayed.

  After a few bad hours, the Perechon broke away from the pull of the Outer Reach, heading more directly northward, toward the port of Sea Reach. Just after they made the break, Maq spied a black sail on the horizon far behind them. Now and then during the course of that afternoon, she caught sight of it again. The sail could belong to only one ship, the Butcher, captained by the vile Mandracore the Reaver. Mandracore was the one true enemy Melas, and by extension Maquesta, had among those who sailed the Blood Sea regularly. He nursed an old grievance, something about how he and Melas had divided treasure they had scavenged from a sinking merchant vessel many years earlier.

  The Butcher's initial appearance troubled her. The fact that it seemed to be following the Perechon deepened that feeling. However, even though the Perechon was not sailing in top form, the Butcher never drew any closer that day. They sailed into the Sea Reach harbor as the sun set, and Maq put that particular worry aside.

  Maquesta summoned several crewmembers after dinner that night. Hoping to keep their stay in Sea Reach to one day, or at the most two, Maquesta doled out various responsibilities. She and Lendle would go to the marketplace for foodstuffs and miscellaneous items, where she hoped their ingenuity at making money stretch would carry the day, since there were very few coins left in Attat's pouch to stretch. Fritzen would go to the shipyard to obtain a special compound designed to reinforce the mainmast, which, though not showing any cracks, had been subjected to a great deal of stress lately. After that, he promised to visit some friends and see if he could get enough coins to replace the largest sails. Hvel and Vartan would purchase the water. T
he assignments taken care of, Maq retired to her cabin for a nap. Sleep was a requirement, for she was to take over watch duty from Fritzen later that night.

  Stars filled the sky and the air was still balmy when Maq relieved the half-ogre. He stayed on deck with her for several minutes, discussing the weather, the designs for the Perechon, and how the crew had fallen into an easy rhythm with a minotaur first mate. "Sailors are usually a skeptical lot," she told him. "But they are an accepting lot, also. There's a kinship about the sea that tends to erase racial boundaries. I knew they would eventually like Koraf."

  Fritz's lips tugged upward into a smile. "And are you so accepting of other races, too, Maquesta?"

  She hoped the handsome half-ogre did not see her blush. "I accept everyone until they've wronged me," she said simply. "You should get some sleep. Our day in port will come very quickly."

  Maq settled in next to the helm, pondering her strategy for capturing the morkoth, trying not to worry too much about Melas, and working to keep her mind off Fritzen Dorgaard. She didn't like the idea that he was occupying a lot of her thoughts. A captain has to keep her mind on the ship, she told herself.

  She must have dozed for a few minutes, for she woke to someone gently shaking her shoulder.

  "I do not sleep well most nights," said Koraf. "I would be happy to take this watch duty so you can get more rest."

  "That's quite all right," Maq said defensively. Then, sensing the minotaur was not judging her, she added, "But I could use some company, and if you're not sleeping perhaps you'd oblige me on that."

  Receiving no reply, and concerned that she had somehow offended him, Maq simply began talking. She talked about growing up on the Perechon, about the first time Melas allowed her to take the helm, about spotting the Butcher earlier in the day, about virtually anything that popped into her head. Gradually, she sensed Koraf relaxing.