But behind all these thoughts Elof had felt a growing unease; he glanced now at Roc and Ils, and the alarm he saw on their faces brought it to a head. He rose, a little unsteadily still, and shook his head. "My friend, I am more grateful than I can say. But I cannot allow it. You are the cornerstone of this land, of the lives of all men in it; how am I to draw that out on my own poor quest, and leave the rest without support? You have no deputy of stature, no heirs, no successors; your place is here, and your duty. And I have selfish folly enough to live with."
Kermorvan nodded. "So be it. It is an honourable answer, and I confess the one I hoped for; yet for my honour, and my debt to you, the offer had to be made. You speak the truth, though I wish to the depths of my heart it were not so. 1 burn to help you, for your sake and Kara's; and I yearn still for the free adventure I once knew, and to see more of the world." He sighed again, and his voice took fire a moment, ere it sank to embers. "To cross the Seas of the Sunrise, to gaze upon the fabled lands beyond, I could envy you that in a happier cause! But I am bound to stay, to go on with my labours and my worries, and I add to them the fate of a friend adrift in the unknown without my aid."
"Well," said Ils lightly, "not quite; he'll at least have mine…"
"Which just leaves me," rumbled Roc, irascible and offhand as ever; and yet his words were hollowed out by deep disquiet. "Can't be sitting around here getting bored while you two go gallivanting -"
But Elof could not let them finish. "The same for you as for the King, my lady! If not more! For his folk follow him all, and willingly. You still must win the trust of yours, for the east and for men; and if you cannot, who can? No, princess of the Elder Folk; you also are bound. And you," rounding on Roc, "what of your bonds? I'll not ruin your life for the faint chance of mending mine! Marja bade you farewell for a summer only; what of her, if you do not return?"
Roc shrugged, seeming very uneasy, and turned away once more. "I can't say!" he said between his teeth. "But I should still come, damn you!"
Elof shook his head. "No more, any of you. We have seen too much together to say more, I think. I should wind no other in the webs of my own folly, no friends, no crews; I should not weaken the fleet. I'll make my own way back to Morvanhal, find a boat there -"
Kermorvan dismissed the idea with a curt wave. "None fit to cross the wide oceans in! All such we have with us; if there were others, I would have brought them. Take one, at least; do not burden me with so great a debt!" There was genuine pleading in his cold eyes, though he added crisply "And do not martyr yourself in foolish penitence! If you have a purpose, carry it through with sense; if you would help her, do it properly!"
Elof drew a deep breath. "I will take a boat. But only one I can handle by myself -"
"One of the cutters, then; though they are barely large enough for your need, and hard for one to handle. But we have nothing better. Unless… here!" He rose, and striding to the stern-post he unlatched the heavy wind-vane and tossed it to Elof. "I return you this, with thanks; we have fared well enough in the past without it, and it may make all the difference to you. When do you wish to leave?"
Elof looked at the dimming sky. "At once, I fear. As soon as there is a wind; the land breeze after dark, perhaps. But first I must go back and find those damnable anklets; I let them fall in my panic. They could still be perilous; I will destroy them, as soon as I have the chance. But it must be done with care, to release what is within; unless -" He paused a moment, reflecting, "Unless they might be of some help. But first I must secure them. By your leave -"
"Go, then," said Kermorvan sadly. "I will give the orders for the best cutter to be provisioned and made ready; it should not take long."
It was now early dusk, the sky grey-clouded save where the sun glowed still through great streaks and slashes, like rich garb showing through a beggar's cloak. That made Elof s search all the harder; the campfires were not yet lit, and he had not thought to take a lantern ashore. Over root and through thicket he stumbled, cursing the dimness, unsure even quite where they had stood those few hours since, she and he. But the last thin gleam of the sun awoke an answer among a tuft of long grass well down the beach, and there he found first one anklet, then the other, already half buried in the dry sand. He must have hurled them from him in those blind moments; he could not remember. He loathed the sight of them now, scooped them up as if they were poisonous snakes, but forced himself to blow the sand from them and stow them carefully away. He straightened up, dusting his hands, and glanced out across the waters; the lanterns were being lit aboard the
Prince Korentyn
, and the other ships were following suit. By their light he made out a lesser, light-hulled shape in the lee of the flagship's bulk, with many figures busy about its deck. That was in hand, then. No more now remained to be done, save to bid farewell to his friends, his home, all he had worked for these last nine years and before; all he had grown to love. But the shaping was his own; he had no right to complain. He turned… stumbled back in sheer alarm, lost his footing and sprawled amid the dewy grass, so close behind him the figure stood.
Tall it seemed and more than tall, a column of darkness against the dark; the immense figure of a man, all muffled up in a black cloak. Only at the edges of him did the shiplights find a gleam; upon the curve of the great shield at his back, the shadowy visor of the helm beneath his hood, the long black spear balanced in his black-gauntleted hand. Beneath the visor a pale-skinned face caught the light, a great eagle nose and bushy grey-black beard around lips hard and unsmiling. His breath smoked in the evening chill.
"Oh no…" breathed Elof, raising himself on one elbow. "Oh no, no…"
The hood moved; the tall man was looking him up and down. "Where to, at such an hour? And in such haste?"
Elof swallowed; he knew the voice, deep and stern. "To seek out a thing I have lost," he said, scrambling up. "How should it concern you?"
The man appeared to be considering. "If you have lost it," he remarked, "how do you know which way to search?"
"By my own eyes!" barked Elof impatiently, and then, plaintively, "Why would you hinder me? What harm can…" He stopped; the figure had held up its empty hand.
"Suppose another now has it? What then? How will you take it back?"
Sudden anger swelled in Elof, and putting hand to belt he swept the sword Gorthawer snarling from the scabbard, and it gleamed as black as any of the other's armour. "With this, if need there be!"
The hood bent down over the levelled blade. "A mighty weapon; yet there are mightier, and the finest sword is no stronger than the arm behind it. Who made it, I wonder?"
Elof reined in his patience as best he could; great aid and great danger hovered over him here, and he could not guess which. "How would I know? It came to me from the hand of one long dead -"
The hood turned slowly from side to side. "You do not speak the truth. No hand save yours has ever held this blade."
Elof s control snapped. "Do you name me liar? Or mock me with riddles? One truth I'll tell you! That if you think to delay me here bandying idle words, then Power though you may be, you're sorely mistaken! If you can aid me, do so without tormenting me! And if not, leave me to go my own way for once!"
The hood rose to its full height. "That you have done, and to what end? If you address a Power, should you not show some respect, instead of tempting its wrath?"
"Respect?" blazed Elof, with a bitter laugh. "Now truly you mock! What have I seen of the Powers, what have they been to me save trial and torture?"
"Help," said the deep voice quietly. "And love."
Elof felt the veins throb at his temples. "Help, from you? Did I not hear you yourself say it, that it was only to balance another Power's meddling? Better far to have had neither! And love? That was the worst torture of all! And though mine was the fault, yet I was sorely driven to it! Leave me to work out my own destiny! Why have you come to plague me now? If you'll not aid me, then let me pass!"
The hood was thrown back; the helm shone clear against the clouds, its eyes dark shadows, unfathomed. "I came to tell you this. What you did, is done; leave it, lest worst befall! More rests on it than you can ever know!"
Elof shook like a wind-blown aspen. "Leave it; leave Kara? Never see her more?"
"Leave her; wait and be content! A great change is coming, upon a vast brink the whole world trembles; even to the Powers its end is not revealed. Be not too eager to leap into the balance, till you know which way it must tilt!"
"I know this; that Kara may need me! That I must find her, free her if need be, were I never to see her more! And that I will seek her thither, in the sunrise, whatever you place in my path!"
The voice grew cold, harsh, daunting in its power. "The way you would seek her, you must not go!" The huge spear swung in his hand, barring Elof s path to the shore.
In a single movement Elof drew his armoured gauntlet from his belt and thrust his left hand within. "And who are you, to forbid me? I have broken the will of Powers ere now .. beware lest I sweep you also from my path!" He raised his hands; in his left palm the crystal glittered, ready to drink in whatever was hurled at him, and in his right Gorthawer, poised to strike in its turn. "Wield your spear! But weigh well the craft in my hands!" He took a swift pace forward and brought Gorthawer against the dark haft of the spear, between the massive hands that held it. The tall figure did not move. With gritted teeth, feeling a sudden sweat break out on his brow, Elof drew the black blade's edge lightly across the shining surface of the haft, and saw a faint score appear there, finer than a hair. Then he sprang back, almost dropping the blade. The figure had not moved; but across the sky behind it there leaped great fronds of searing white, that seemed to join and meet behind the crest of the helm like a crown of blasting force. In its light the right eyehole of the visor shone ghastly white; the socket beneath was eyeless, empty, blind as bone. A moment later the sound reached him, a sombre crackle and crash as if high above the cloudroof a vast door slammed closed. A cold breeze blew in his face, and great raindrops began to fall, like tears.
The tall man stepped forward, lifted a hand, and Elof scuttled back, weapons at the ready. But there was no move to attack; he was simply pulling up his hood. Again he looked at Elof, and when he spoke the voice was heavy with many things; weariness, contempt, sorrow, and perhaps also pity. "Go on, then. I cannot prevent you." He strode past Elof into the shadow of the bushes and was gone.
Elof stood gazing after him, his jaw sagging, his head in a fearful whirl. The flare of his anger had passed, and a great uncertainty was upon him. What had he done? What should he have done? What could he… Not abandon Kara, of that alone he was sure; his lips pressed tight at the thought. And yet till now the Raven had always aided him, however harrowing that aid might be… And he too had spoken of a great change impending. The Powers seemed to sense it, yet they could not foresee what it might be. He thought then of the tremors of the earth that at times shook Kerbryhaine, and of how it was said that animals both wild and tame sensed them hours before they came, heard perhaps the stirring of the earthfires upon which the hard rock floated; then, it was said, they grew uneasy, chafed at restraints, and fled. But a thing of this magnitude, whence could any flee? Save beyond the circles of the world, perhaps; which for men meant only the River. "I have no choice," he said aloud to the surrounding darkness, and liked little the tone of helpless complaint in his voice. "I must go! I must follow!" Slowly he turned and walked towards the shore. At his back the fires sprang to life, but from their warmth and light he turned away.
When he clambered back up to the flagship's deck he found his friends awaiting him. "A storm brews," began Kermorvan. "Would you not be better to put off - "
Elof shook his head. "It only comes on a land wind," he answered. "And it cannot be bad; I heard only the one thunderclap. It will serve to speed me on my way." Of its true cause he said nothing, and strove to conceal that he knew; Kermorvan revered the Powers, and Raven most of all. Such a warning he might heed, and feel it a king's duty to enforce it. "Is my boat made ready?"
"It is," said Kermorvan, and sorrow weighted his words. "The cutter
Mordan
awaits you overside, that is
Seafire
in the Northern tongue. Your gear is aboard, and supplies in plenty; though how long your voyage must be, we cannot tell. We have no charts that can help you, and no records; none have sailed east these last thousand years or more. The last to sail westward was your great forebear Vayde, and he left no account. Sun and stars must keep you on your course… and may they be favourable to you!" His face was as Elof had seen it in their worst adversity, set like flint. "We would stay you longer if we could; but our debt to you will not allow that. You leave our land bereft of your skill and power; you leave me bereft of my chiefest friend. Do you return one day if you can, whatever your case or condition; then we shall rejoice indeed! May your quest's ending be a happy one!"
"Speeches!" spat out Ils, and seizing Elof she embraced him so hard he feared his ribs would crack, and buried her face a moment in his shoulder. "Now get on with you!"
Elof did his best to nod and smile, but he could say nothing; the crew were flocking around him, extending hands to him, slapping him on the back, calling out their good wishes. It was goodwill he felt he did not deserve, and it came near to breaking his heart. By the ladder Roc awaited him, with no more than a nod and a slap on the shoulder; Elof was grateful for that. "Down you go, and when you give the word I'll cast you off at the bows," he said.