Bones of the Dragon (39 page)

For him, the voyage was a pleasant one. Skylan had selected twenty young warriors to accompany him. He chose young men over veterans, such as Draya’s friend, Sven. The voyage was going to be peaceful, he said, and this would give the young men good experience. In truth, Skylan did not want the older men, who would be more likely to oppose a raid on the druid settlement. Here was yet another lie.

Skylan was troubled by his lies: lies to Draya, lies to his father, lies to his clansmen, lies mounting on top of lies like corpses piled atop one another when a shield-wall crumbled. Torval was a god of honor. He despised liars. Once Skylan had the Vektan Torque, he could stop lying. He would give the torque to the god, and all would be forgiven. Skylan fixed his gaze on that bright horizon and took care not to look too closely at the stinking, murky water through which he had to wade in order to reach it.

They passed the landmark—One Tree Rock—that denoted the end of Vindrasi lands, and the
Venjekar
sailed out into the open seas. The Isle of Apensia did not lie on the route normally taken by the dragonships when they sailed to the Dragon Isles. It lay farther to the south. Once they were out to sea, Skylan told the steersman to head the ship that direction. Draya’s illness gave him an excuse. He claimed he was trying to find calmer seas to ease her sickness.

The moon had been full last night and the night before. He had promised Raegar to meet at the time of the full moon. Skylan wandered the deck daily, eyes on the horizon, waiting tensely for the shout that meant the lookout had sighted land. He was eager to reach the place where he would rid himself of an unwanted wife and gain fabulous wealth in return, wealth he would use to fund the venture to the ogres’ lands.

Three days had passed since they left behind One Tree Rock, and Draya appeared on deck. She looked exceedingly pale, thin and haggard, but she was no longer puking. She gave Skylan a wan smile and said in a low voice she was sorry he’d been forced to sleep on deck with the other warriors.

Skylan answered politely that he was very glad to see her in better health.

She said softly she hoped he would come to their bed this night.

He answered gravely he would not think of imposing himself upon her while she was still so weak.

Draya cast him a despairing glance. Tears shimmered in her eyes.

He realized that the young Heudjun warriors were watching this exchange
between him and his wife. Had they overheard? He glanced about and didn’t think so. He and Draya had kept their voices down, and the warriors had all politely moved out of earshot when she came on deck to speak to her husband. They could not help but see her turn away from him and put her hand to her eyes. Several were regarding them both with lowered brows, worried looks.

Damn it all, anyway! Skylan thought angrily, glaring at them. Haven’t any of you ever seen a husband and wife quarrel before?

He was about to order the men to keep their eyeballs in their heads, when he remembered Raegar’s warning: He must not arouse suspicion.

Lies, suspicions, guilt. Skylan’s wyrd had once been a single thread of sunshine and blue sky and a freshening sea breeze. Now it was twisted strands of darkness and slime and stinking swamp water.

Skylan forged a smile for his lips and walked over to stand beside Draya. She looked so pale and wan, he could not help but feel sorry for her and more than a little guilty about his plan.

“Sit down, madam,” he said. “You are newly risen from your sickbed. You must take care of yourself.”

Draya looked at him, startled at his unusually respectful tone, and she gave him a pallid smile.

“Take your ease,” he continued, assisting her to sit on one of the chests the men had brought on board. They not only stored belongings in the chests, they also used them as benches. “I will bring you something to eat and drink, food your weak stomach can tolerate.”

He brought her bread soaked in ale, and he sat down beside her while she ate, talking of the Dragon Isles. He had not traveled there in some time. He asked her questions and tried to listen to her answers, but his mind kept wandering, as did his gaze—to the horizon.

We should already be at Apensia! Perhaps I miscalculated the route. Perhaps the lookout is asleep at his post. I will go check on him. No, that would look odd.

He made himself sit beside Draya, made himself attend to her. She was touchingly pleased by his attention and returned his smile with a loving smile of her own. He felt wretched and didn’t know how much more of this playacting he could tolerate, and he was thinking he would excuse himself to go take a piss when a voice cried out, “Land!”

Skylan leaped to his feet, as did everyone else on board ship. The warriors crowded the rail, peering out at the smudge on the horizon and speculating what place this might be. It was not the Dragon Isles, with their cloud-topped mountain peaks.

The
Venjekar
drew nearer, and soon they could see a rocky shoreline covered
with trees, and here and there a few stone dwellings. The dwellings became more numerous, revealing a settlement, nestled in a cove.

Smoke from cook fires rose into the air and drifted out to sea. A number of boats bobbed in the calm waters of the cove. Fishing boats, by the looks of them. Skylan’s spirits rose. He thought he recognized Raegar’s boats among the others.

“Sail closer,” Skylan ordered.

“No, don’t!” Draya cried.

Skylan turned to glare at her in displeasure. On board the
Venjekar
, he was master. No one, not even the Kai Priestess, had the right to countermand his orders.

Draya realized she had broken an unwritten law, and she hastened to provide an explanation. “That is the Isle of Apensia, an isle ruled by druids. As we value our lives, we should not venture anywhere near there!”

Skylan gave a laugh. “I have heard about these druids. I hear they love peace so much that they do not carry weapons or even allow weapons to be forged on their island.”

Skylan spread his legs to maintain his balance on the rocking deck. He put his hands on his hips and gazed out at the island. “I have also heard that their storehouses are stuffed with silver and gold and jewels.”

The young warriors broke into excited talk, each eager to tell the stories he’d heard about druids. No one could lay claim to any facts. No Vindrasi had set foot on the Isle of Apensia for as long as anyone could remember. The Bone Priestesses had always forbidden it.

“Lord Skylan!” Draya called from where she sat clutching the bench with both hands. “I would speak with you.”

Skylan pretended he didn’t hear her.

“What if the Kai are wrong?” he asked several of the young men who stood near him. “What if year after year we have sailed past a fortune that is ours for the taking? I say we raid it and find out!”

“Husband! Please come to me,” Draya called.

Skylan continued ignoring her. Some of the men were opposed to the notion of raiding the settlement, but the majority were in favor. They were young and thirsting for battle. Most had yet to win their first silver armbands. The stories they had heard about druids were firelight tales, insubstantial as smoke, and their longing for glory and wealth was very real.

Draya listened to the talk of raiding, and her face grew increasingly grave. Skylan wished she would give up and go below.

That didn’t happen. Rising to her feet, Draya tottered unsteadily across the deck. The ship rolled, and she fetched up against Skylan, seizing hold of his arm to keep from falling.

He steadied her and said, “Well, madam, what do you want of me?”

Draya flushed at his cold tone. “I want you to turn this ship around! Think, lord! There is a reason druids do not forge weapons. They do not need them! They have weapons of their own, and they are formidable!”

“How do you know this, madam?” Skylan asked. “Have
you
visited this island? Has
any
Kai Priestess visited this island?” He shook off her clutching hand.

She staggered again as the ship rocked, and grabbed hold of the rail. “Not for many, many years,” Draya admitted. “But that is because we were warned against it by Vindrash. A warning you should heed!”

Some of the warriors were now starting to look doubtful, casting uncertain glances at the shoreline. Skylan could order his men to land on Apensia, and they would have to obey him, but he knew that men who fought reluctantly did not put their hearts into their blades, as the saying went. Skylan glanced up at the dragon’s carved head, and he thought he saw a flicker of red in the wooden eyes. That gave him an idea.

“If Vindrash does not want us to go to Apensia,” said Skylan, “then I presume she would order the Dragon Kahg to refuse to take us.”

Skylan was taking a risk, bringing the dragon into the dispute. Yet the risk was calculated. The Dragon Kahg was as greedy for jewels as any of the warriors on board. He had been sulking for months over the fact that Vindrasi raids had been fruitless. The eyes of the carved figurehead gazed upon the island. Perhaps the Dragon Kahg could see the glitter of rubies and sapphires and emeralds.

Or perhaps not. The
Venjekar
slowed its forward progress. The waves that had once broken over the bows now stirred beneath the hull in a creamy froth. Skylan’s heart sank.

Vindrash will not allow it, he thought. The Dragon Kahg will refuse to sail to Apensia. Draya will insist that we go to the Dragon Isles, and I will be stuck with her for the rest of my life! Unless she poisons me first.

Their progress slowed even more. Skylan cast a bitter glance at his wife, expecting to see Draya smug and triumphant.

The wind whipped her straggling hair into her face. She was having trouble standing and was forced to cling to the rail with both hands. She did not look up at the dragon. She stared straight out toward the sea. Her face was pale, taut, strained.

The
Venjekar
had slowed, but was still maintaining forward progress. The lookout called out a warning, sandbars ahead, and Skylan sighed in relief. The Dragon Kahg had slowed the ship because the water was growing more shallow, not because he had been commanded by the goddess to sail away.

“It appears Vindrash favors our going, madam,” said Skylan.

The young warriors were cheered by the dragon’s response, and they hastened to remove their shields from the rack, put on their armor and helms, and pick up their weapons. They watched the shore approach and spoke excitedly of the valiant deeds they would do. Guided by the lookout, the dragon steered the ship around the sandbars and headed straight for the island.

People who lived along the shoreline had seen the dragonship by now. They raced over the sand, fleeing inland. Skylan stared intently at the boats belonging to Raegar and his partners. No one was around, no slaves guarding them. Skylan thought this odd, for he could see that the boats were loaded with trade goods.

Perhaps Raegar has no need for guards. Maybe these druids are trustworthy, not given to thievery, he said to himself with a shrug.

Skylan put on the chain mail and a shining new helm he’d had made while he was in Vindraholm. He buckled his sword belt around his waist. He had purchased a fine new fleece-lined sheath made for Blood Dancer. The sword garnered the universal admiration of all who saw it. Skylan never tired of showing it off. He had told the story of how Torval had given him the sword so often that he had almost come to believe it himself. He added a new short sword to his belt, then draped over his shoulders a fine new woolen cloak, blue as the sky in raiding season. Before he sailed to the ogres’ lands, he would have the cloak embroidered with the image of an eagle killing an adder.

The
Venjekar
sailed into the cove. Skylan, standing on deck, went over the plan in his mind. He and his warriors would go ashore. Draya and the two warriors who would serve as her guards would remain on board the dragonship. Skylan would demand to be taken to the druids, the leaders of the settlement. Raegar had described them as a group of stoop-shouldered old men and women. Skylan would rattle his sword at them, point to his fierce, heavily armed warriors, and threaten to butcher the men, carry off the women, and enslave the children unless the druids paid him to leave them in peace.

The druids would want to negotiate. While this was happening, Raegar and his men, disguised as druids, wearing long, gray hooded robes, would board the dragonship. They would greet Draya as an honored guest and invite her to leave the ship, to take some refreshment.

Draya would probably be suspicious. People of a settlement about to be plundered rarely invited the enemy to dinner. If she refused, Raegar would tell her that the negotiations were going well and that her husband, Skylan, wanted to present her to the leaders. The use of Skylan’s name would disarm her, and she would go ashore.

Skylan was worried that Draya might recognize Raegar. The two had been
affianced, after all. Raegar had assured Skylan that he would keep his face concealed by the hood. And he reminded Skylan that when Draya had known him, he had been clean-shaven, as was the custom among Vindrasi warriors. She would never recognize him with a long flowing blond beard.

The
Venjekar
glided into the calm, shallow waters of the cove. Warriors leaped over the side to haul the dragonship up onto the beach. Skylan made ready to join them.

Draya stood on deck, her hands clasping and unclasping, her fingers twisting. She was pale, her gaze roving the empty shore or glancing up at the dragon. Skylan walked over to bid her farewell. Farewell forever. This would be the last time he saw her. He should have been elated. He was surprised to find that he felt tense, uneasy.

“I will send you word of how our negotiations proceed, madam,” Skylan said, trying to make his voice sound natural—and failing. He coughed and continued. “With Torval’s blessing, we will be on our way to the Dragon Isles by nightfall, our hold filled with jewels as an offering to the dragons.”

Draya shook her head, made no reply.

Skylan tried again. “I know you disapprove, madam, but I am Chief of Chiefs, and this is my decision.”