Startled, the dragon plunged aside, or the wash of flame might have taken it full in the jaws; but its torn wing hampered it, and the fire struck it full on its right side, and spattered across its unprotected wing. The dragon shrieked, a high thin agonized note so loud it whipped the ears like a white-hot wire, as if to transmit the pain. Elof's head rang, his eyes stung, but as he climbed free he saw the dragon drop away across the sky, trailing a great plume of smoke. The wind stank of scotched flesh., its. left wing, shredded, its right perforated in many places and still ablaze, the creature was making a desperate lunge to reach the safety of the land and the cool snow-clad hills. What became of it Elof never saw; but that it came to land is recorded, for its fall was seen and the place of it noted, where a great fire sprang up among the snow. No doubt it was worse injured then, yet not slain; for a crawling trail led from that spot far off into the hills of the Wild Lands, and no man cared to follow further. What became of the dragon after that time is less certain, but that it lived on, maimed yet formidable, is beyond doubt; for even when its kind had withered in the changes of the world, it remained a legend of terror among the mountains of the ancient north long after the passing of these events, and the closing of their chronicles.
But Elof, riding a great surge of joy and relief, wheeled back on wings that throbbed with strength and hurled himself down upon the masts of the black flotilla beneath. And where the shadow of those wings passed, many a strong warrior flung himself face down upon the deck. He rejoiced at that, though there was no vainglory in him; he knew how close he had pressed his luck. But now at least he could seek to save lives, rather than spill them, and for that the Ekwesh had to be impressed. He glanced quickly behind him, and saw to his relief that Morvanhal's stained sails had slackened their onrush, although they still advanced; he had the few minutes he needed. Again he held the air above the bows of the chieftain's ship, and again he cried out to them.
"
Is it well, then, Sons of the Raven? Look to yourself, you bade me; and that I have done! Now I bid you do as much! Ask this of yourselves! Will you follow her still who would have you feast upon the flesh of men? Who sets you apart on the land, to walk the wastes and win no honour in war? Who sets you apart at sea, where you will strike the hardest against fellow followers of the Raven? Where your deeds will be drowned in the sea's cold silence and forgotten? Who has bidden you throw your lives away, not for your own good reasons but for hers
?" Furiously he gestured at the oncoming fleet, at the inexorable glitter of the rams. "
Then go! Go follow home her hunter, whom you bade me fear! Begone, ere she whips you in! Like curs to your kennels! Leave the Raven banner to those who work his will
!"
From the black ships came no word or sign; but neither was any weapon loosed or hand raised against Elof, though the very air felt taut as a bowstring. He could see the chieftain, standing by the helm, glancing slowly from Elof back to the white-clad hills behind, and the hidden presence of the Gate. Among these impassive folk that probably betrayed a panic of indecision, but it was scarcely enough. It was one thing to claim the will of Raven, another to convince them. He had hoped to overawe them utterly; but at their best they were a fell folk, grim and dour, and the long service of the Ice had hardened them to sights awesome and terrible. What else was left him, if even defeating the dragon had not served? He looked up despairingly to where the smoke of the battle still hung in the middle airs, and thought for one awful moment that others had been sent out after him. But he saw at once that it was not so, and he laughed aloud for wonder. From out of the plume of smoke, as it spread and straggled upon the south wind, dropped the two specks that he had seen, circling, spiralling downward to settle in a flurry of wings as dark as his own upon either end of the black ship's mainyard. They snapped their high curved bills and cocked bright eyes down at the staring faces below; but then they peered back, cackling like malign old men over hunched shoulders, and stared straight at him.
"
Thinking/"
croaked the first.
"
Remembering
!" cackled the other, exactly as they had so many years since. He shivered with apprehension, and the effort to understand.
"Live!"
"Thrive!"
"Blood!"
"Brood!"
Then "
Stay! Pass! Weigh
!" over and over, very fast, batting the words between each other like a game, till one suddenly added "
Choose
!"
"
Speak
!" spat the other, and rattled its black blade of a beak.
Elof caught his breath; then he threw back his head and laughed again as all his exaltation flowed back to him, and shouted down to the silent ship below.
"
Behold, I ride upon black wings, over land and sea he has sped me to speak words of fire to you, words of sun's fire that shall shine through the pale Ice and melt it to a mist! I am his emissary
!" He heard his words come rolling back like thunder from against the distant barriers of the Ice. "
Well? Will you hear what he wills
?" Not a boy stirred on the decks below; even the sea seemed hushed.
"You shall not fight! For the lives Louhi commanded you to cast away are not hers to rule -nor his - but yours alone! You need not surrender, nor bow the knee, nor in any way lessen your honour and your pride! But in the name of your mighty forefathers of old and their allegiance, older than the Ice itself, he asks you to stand aside, to let pass the fleet before you! For they also are a part of the Raven's brood, sprung like you from the common blood of the fathers of men, that first he sheltered beneath his wing! Weigh well; choose freely! That is the Raven's word!"
Even as he finished, the black birds squawked and shrilled, and rising on their cruel talons they shook their wide wings. The chieftain looked up at them, and beyond to meet Elof s own intense gaze. For a moment they stared at one another, and at the black birds between them; then the chief made a single curt gesture, spoke a short word, and the sharp-edged sweeps splashed into the water, the steersman bore down on his oar. In a swift flurry of wings the two huge ravens flung themselves aloft, almost colliding with Elof and whirling him aside; when he collected himself, he saw that the dark ships were moving forward no longer, but turning away, aside. Numb with excitement, Elof came swooping down past the masthead of the
Prince Korentyn
as it passed beneath him, and all but collapsed upon the deck.
The shield split before the spearhead. If signals were exchanged, no man saw any, nor heard any hail; but the line of black ships parted, and peeled back on either side to give the great warship passage. In two long lines they formed up like sullen guards, and rode there, sails furled, silently watching the fleet pass. But as the last ship went by they hoisted sail once more, and the two ranks silently closed in behind it and followed the fleet to land.
On board the
Korentyn
confusion had reigned. Elof was bombarded with loud praise of his valour and wild enquiry as to what the savages meant, often in the same voices at the same time, till Kermorvan's dry voice cut through the hubbub and extracted an account of what had passed. "So Raven takes an interest!" mused Kermorvan, tapping the gold-damasked Raven and sun emblem on his breastplate. "He seems to think you did the right thing. And I agree. But I crave to know just what those ships intend now!"
Later that day he found out. As the day declined they sighted the southern hills, still green and free of snow, and at their feet many small bays without any ice, that might make good anchorages. Kermorvan had the best of them swiftly sounded, then ordered the fleet in. He would waste no time, for, as he told Elof, Louhi's minions were probably herding a huge army of Ekwesh southward across the snow that very minute, or preparing to land one from the sea. But the scouts he sent out, among them Elof aloft, reported both sea and land empty within their sight, and he gave the orders to disembark.
It was a disciplined force that landed, but confusion and problems were inevitable. The land was cool and windswept under that grim and sunless sky, a country of barren cliffs and grassland only a little less harsh than the north had been; by the sea tough grass and thorny gorse were all that grew, save for the odd stunted tree. Here and there in sheltered vales and hollows some plants of warmer climes struggled on, but to no great effect. There was little to replenish their supplies, and no sign of men; but there was fresh water in plenty, and that they needed most. Their greatest concerns, as Kermorvan detailed them to the council of war he held on the
Korentyn's
deck, were first, to establish and fortify their place of landing, and second, to seek afield for folk of Kerys and establish a link with them before Louhi's forces could cut across the land between.
The matter of defences Kermorvan set to Ils and the small group of young duergar she had brought, and even before the main body of the force was ashore they were busy throwing up ditch and earthwork, complaining bitterly of the poor sandstone of the cliffs. Faring afield posed a worse problem. On so long a voyage they had not been able to bring many horses, and of those they had, some had died, and most were weakened by seasickness; even Kermorvan's hardy white warhorses, well used to sea voyages, were looking leaner in the ribs. Seasickness had taken its toll of men also, though they had guarded scrupulously against other disease, and many of the force were still not fit for long riding or heavy labour. Kermorvan's plan, therefore, was this: that while the main body of the force guarded fleet and shore, a swift band of such as were fittest should at once ride inland and seek the southland cities of Kerys; this, he informed them, meeting all protest with a chilly gleam in his eye, he would himself lead. Elof would go with them, as scout and courier. "But none of this we may safely begin," he added grimly, "till our third and most urgent problem is solved; what we do about our obliging escort out there?" He gestured over his shoulder to the gaggle of black ships.
"Chances are that'll be resolving itself any time now!" remarked Roc cheerfully. "One of the buggers is rowing this way!" There was a general rush to the side, but it was clear the newcomer meant no attack. There was something hesitant in the manner in which it hove to a discreet length from the
Korentyn
, and hailed for a parley. Elof was there when its boat drew under the warship's lee, and the chieftain of the Ravens climbed on board. He was grim of face, and there was fresh blood, among the many stains on his mantle, but he saluted Kermorvan with respect, and Elof with awe.
"No man fares best alone," he began, without preamble. "To gladden the eye of Raven we set a spear between us and the other clans of the Aikiya'wahsa, and defied the Woman of the Ice. Now we think we will gladden Raven's eye further if we join those others who follow him."
Kermorvan's angry gesture silenced the outbursts of disbelief that arose all around, but the chieftain folded his arms and said no more. Kermorvan pushed his long hair back from his forehead, and regarded him steadily awhile before he answered. "You did what was honourable," he answered at last, very calmly, "and we take notice of it; we should have had hard fighting, for all our numbers. What It has cost you, we can guess. But your kin has never shown any love for ours, and there is an ocean of blood between us. When one shieldwall joins with another, each man must trust his neighbour, or the wall is weaker than it was before. I cannot forget that you might be cunning traitors, preferring a sudden strike from within our ranks to an open clash of shieldwalls that must in the end cost all your lives. I do not say you are traitors, but I would be a fool not to think of it." The chieftain gave a contemptuous grunt, but said nothing. Kermorvan leaned back in his heavy chair. "We must know more. We also are honourable; aid for aid we will return as generously as we may - but to have you join us is a longer step, and one we should both test first. How truly do you wish it? Is it not rather fear of Louhi's wrath that urges you on?"
Kermorvan had taken care, Elof noticed, to speak in simple terms the Ekwesh would understand instantly, and to avoid offending him; and yet he had accused him of fear. The chieftain bristled visibly, but controlled his temper, and allowed himself a frigid nod. "Not to turn face from the Unending is foolishness; and the Ravens of the Aikiya'wahsa are not fools, King-over-sea. Else should we chafe under her rule so long? We thought then, Raven sleeps, or, Raven is weak, because he has no moving mountains, no warriors, no beasts, no sights or sendings, save, some say, himself. So we think, to serve well, we can do no better. Now we see this may not be so, there are other ways, that you serve him and yet are not his slaves, that you have power to wield as he shows you and yet is your own." The black eyes glittered as cold as Kermorvan's own, and the stolid face grinned with sudden savage vitality. "To fight the Hunter as you did, steel-shaman…
ayeh
! Would I had done that deed! She was wise not to send the Ravens to fight in your land, but keep us to this, whose folk are rotten in their heart and strive among themselves. We saw you, we knew the time had come. So, King-oversea, our wish to join your force is true, not a turning of the face. If he follows you, we shall also. In all you command!"