Voyage of the Fox Rider (47 page)

Aravan then turned to Bokar. “Armsmaster, I would have thee go ashore and find out what passes. Select those Drimma whom thou wouldst have accompany thee.”

Bokar nodded, then said, “By your leave, Captain, I will take Jatu as well.”

Aravan smiled. “I see. Thou wouldst have a friendly, trustworthy face to gull the citizens, someone to protect them from the ravages of savage Drimma, neh? And then after saving them he will ask what passes. Have I the right of it, Bokar?”

Bokar grinned. “Recall, Captain, it worked in Alkabar. The natives fell over their own tongues to tell him all, while we Châkka merely stood in view and thumbed our razor-keen axes. And those who had temporarily stolen our cargo…perhaps they are yet running.”

Aravan laughed and called for Jatu.

In addition to Jatu, Bokar selected nineteen Châkka to accompany him, and three gigs were readied. The
Eroean
sailed into the mouth of the harbor and luffed
into the wind, and the landing party was lowered, the boats abristle with Dwarves bearing crossbows and warhammers and axes, and Jatu bearing his warbar. As soon as the gigs were away, the Elvenship fell off on the wind and took up a triangular course, a mile to a leg.

It was late in the day when the gigs put back out to sea, and as the Sun set they rendezvoused with the
Eroean
. Among members of the warband, Bokar and Jatu clambered up over the rail, where Aravan, Alamar, Aylis, and Jinnarin waited. Jatu shook his head. “‘Tis a feud, Captain, nothing more. The Jarl of Klettstad came overland with his warband last week and set siege; and yester, when the Jarl of Havnstad surrendered, the winning Jarl put the place to torch. It yet smolders.”

“It has nought to do with Durlok?” asked Aravan.

Jatu shook his head,
No
, and Alamar nodded unto himself, his own suspicion confirmed.

To make certain, though, Aylis asked, “Do they know anything of him or of his ship…or anything of the plumes?”

“Nay, Lady Aylis, they do not,” replied Jatu, then, as Jinnarin’s face fell, added, “I am sorry, my tiny one, but life goes on heedless of our own quest. Though we would perhaps like the whole world to revolve about our concerns, it does not.”

“I know,” said Jinnarin, disappointment in her voice. “Still, I am so frustrated by our lack of knowledge. I was hoping against hope that here we would at last discover something to guide us, something leading to Farrix, yet all we found was a feud.”

“Is the town on War footing?” asked Aravan.

“Nay, Captain,” answered Jatu. “They paid tribute to be left alone. The Jarl of Klettstad is gone home.”

As the gigs were brought aboard, Aravan said, to Rico, “Sail us into the harbor and drop anchor, Rico, well out from the town but sheltered by the shoulder of the headland. Set double ward, and should any approach, sound the alarm.” Then he turned to the others. “Come, let us fetch Frizian and Fager and then take counsel and examine the choices before us.”

As they strode toward the captain’s lounge, Bokar growled, “Disgusting!”

“What?” asked Jinnarin.

“That he surrendered,” replied the Dwarf.

Jinnarin looked over her shoulder at the smoldering turret, smoke rising against the emerging stars. “The Jarl of the tower? But he has his life, doesn’t he? He was spared, neh?”

Bokar nodded, then said. “But he is now without honor.”

“Isn’t it better to surrender—?”

“Surrender is not a Châkka word!” snapped Bokar.

“But I would think, Bokar, that it is better to live to fight another day than—”

“I said,” growled Bokar, “surrender is not a Châkka word!”

Jinnarin fell silent and on they walked toward the salon.

In the swaying yellow lantern light, Aravan rolled out a large map before the others and placed paperweights at the corners to hold it down. Displayed on the chart was a broad reach of the northern part of the world, extending from the Latitude of the Crab in the south to the polar realm in the north, and from the coastal waters of the western continent to just beyond the eastern bound of the Boreal Sea. Leaning on his hands, Aravan glanced up at the others gathered ‘round, shadows swinging slowly to and fro in the room beyond.

“Let us discuss his options, this Durlok, and see can we lay out a likely course to follow.” Aravan stepped to a cabinet and took from a drawer a modest pouch. Returning to the table, he said, “First, let us try to list all of his choices, and I will mark them.” He opened the pouch and poured out a complete set of tokko game pieces, these carven from jade and ivory, flint and obsidian, crystal and tourmaline and malachite and amber and garnet and other such. Jinnarin’s eyes flew wide and she glanced up at Alamar, for here was a set far more precious than those they had been using. “Once marked,” Aravan continued, “then we will discuss the merits of each.”

The Elf reached out and took up a piece—an ivory ship—and placed it in the Northern Sea. “He could yet be following his former track.”

Aravan looked at Bokar. “He could have gone inland,” said the Dwarf, stabbing his finger to the map, and Aravan placed a jade castle in the Realm of Thol.

Saying nought, Jatu reached across the table and took up an obsidian ship and placed it in the Boreal Sea.

Alamar pointed to the Weston Ocean southeast of Rwn, and there Aravan set a spheroidal stone of flint.

Frizian chose the Polar Sea, marked by a malachite eagle.

Fager said, “The western continent,” and it was distinguished by a carnelian miter.

Aylis seemed distracted, as if lost in deep thought, and though she peered long at the map it is questionable whether she even saw it. Of a sudden she became conscious that all eyes were on her, and she quickly placed an onyx throne in the ocean west of Atala.

Jinnarin was last, and she took up a crystal castle and walked completely off the map and to the edge of the table, setting it down on bare wood, saying, “Perhaps he’s gone to his crystal castle on the island in the pale green sea, wherever it may be.”

Aravan again looked at the others through the swaying amber light. “Let us now go back ‘round the table and discuss the merits of each.” He pointed at the ivory ship he had placed in the Northern Sea. “Consider whether Durlok yet plies his former route, shuttling to and fro between Thol and the western continent.” Aravan glanced from one to another, awaiting comment.

Frizian cleared his throat, then said, “I think not, Captain. We searched this track long and carefully. If he had been there, pulling down plumes, we would have seen some sign of him—either his ship or a plume.” Frizian looked at Jinnarin, and she nodded in agreement.

“On the other hand,” put in Fager, “there were some nights we did not see the lights—when it stormed or when they did not shine above.”

“Even so,” responded Frizian, “no two nights running did that occur, yet when it did we held station, sailing a triangular course, waiting until the boreal lights did shine down on that position. And given the range that the plumes are seen…” All eyes swung to Alamar.

The elder nodded. “If Durlok were on the track and had called down a plume, I do not think that Jinnarin
would have missed it. Recall, the first one she saw came down some two hundred miles away. Ha! She would have seen any others, and that’s a fact!”

Jatu slowly shook his head. “Be that as it may, the ocean is a wide place, and the Black Mage could easily sail past us during the day—and certainly at night—without us ever seeing him. And if he did not draw down a plume while we were in range, well then…”

All fell silent and after a moment Aravan asked, “Has any aught else to add concerning whether or no he sails the same track?” He glanced about the table at the mute company, none saying a word. Aravan then pointed to the jade castle in Thol. “Did Durlok fare inland when he reached the Realm of Thol?”

Alamar glanced up at Bokar and then back to the map. “It is possible that Durlok is compelled to continue along a given track to gather plumes. Stranger constraints have been known to bind the workings of certain castings.”

“If so,” mused Aravan, “then he would need a place to harbor his ship, and this coast is riddled with fjords and coves. It will take long to search them all out.”

“But, Captain,” put in Frizian, “perhaps he sent the ship elsewhere, while he alone, or with a small following, landed and trekked inland.”

Jatu jerked a thumb in the direction of the nearby harbor town. “Forget not, however, that the people of Havnstad saw no galley nor any other ship of late. And had Durlok landed, surely someone would have seen it. This town
is
closest to where we think his track would bring him.”

Alamar shook his head. “He is a Mage, a Black One, but a Mage still. And if he had wished to land unseen, he could have managed it.”

Frizian sighed. “Given our position and the date when he rammed us, if he did go straight from here to the coast of Thol and land—and go on—then he is deep within that Realm by now.”

Again a silence fell on the group. Once more Aravan asked for additional comments, and when none was forthcoming, he said, “Very well, let us now consider whether or no Durlok is in the Boreal Sea. What say ye?”

Bokar looked at the map. “Even though it is not on the track, the Black Mage could have turned north and east, sailing along the coast and past the island of Leut and into the Boreal. It would give him another”—Bokar gauged the distance—“thirty-six hundred miles of ocean. And the aurora shines above it as well.”

Aravan pursed his lips. “The Boreal at this time of year is even more fickle than the Northern Sea, and savage storms and great greybeards rage across its ’spanse, trying to drag all to their doom.” He turned to Alamar. “Would Durlok risk such?”

Alamar shrugged, a nettled look on his face.

Frizian said, “Too, there is the suck of the Great Maelstrom there by the Seabanes, yet any captain worth his salt can easily avoid that Kraken-infested maw.”

Scanning the faces at the table, none had anything to add, and so Aravan pointed to the flint spheroid southeast of Rwn. “What say ye of this?”

“It’s where Farrix saw the plumes,” said Jinnarin.

Fager spoke: “There is an old saying: thieves oft return to the place of the stealing. And who can deny that this Durlok comes like a thief in the night. Regardless, as Lady Jinnarin said, it’s where Farrix saw more than one plume come down.”

Jatu leaned forward on his hands. “Even so, we were anchored along the southeast coast of Rwn for nearly a month and in all that time no plume fell nearby. And when finally Lady Jinnarin saw the others, they were on a track that fared north of Rwn.”

Alamar nodded but added, “Again I say, castings are nearly always hemmed in by constraints. It could be that in the year when Farrix saw the plumes, well, perhaps southeast of Rwn was one of the few places—or even the
only
place—where conditions were right for drawing them down.”

“Damn!” exclaimed Bokar, slamming his fist to the table, jolting the tokko pieces. “No matter where we look, it is the same tale, full of could be’s and might be’s and do not know’s!”

Frizian nodded sharply, agreeing wholeheartedly with the Dwarf, and he pointed at the malachite eagle marking the Polar Sea. “Captain, the Polar Sea, where it is not locked in ice, is even worse this time of year than
the Boreal. And in spite of the fact that the northern lights shine strongly there, the Armsmaster is right, and I say that the might be’s and could be’s of the Polar Sea are no better nor worse than the others—probably worse, now that I think of it.”

“Aye,” chimed in Fager. He pointed at the carnelian miter. “And what was said about Thol could as well be said about the western continent.”

Aravan looked about the table, then at Aylis, the seeress yet distracted, pondering.
“Chieran,”
he said, then,
“Chieran,”
louder.

“Wha-what?” She looked up and about. “Oh, my onyx throne.” She reached down and touched the piece. “I put it here because the lights reach farther south at this time of year. I think that perhaps Farrix saw Durlok on a different track, one which runs below Rwn. It occurred to me that Durlok may have moved to a new path, and that’s why we didn’t see him or any plumes when we ran along the northerly reach.”