City of Jade (50 page)

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Authors: Dennis McKiernan

BOOK: City of Jade
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Nunde raced ahead to see if Malik and the Chûn were in position.
 
 
They were.
 
 
Not that they had any choice. After all, Nunde had decreed.
 
 
The voyage went onward, and at last Nunde, daring to spy during the day, though remaining well away, watched as the ship dropped anchor at the mouth of the Dukong.
 
 
But then, out from a brief flash of light—
What’s this? They have a trained bird? A pigeon, a dove
—
no, a raptor of a sort, mayhap a small hawk. Never mind, for it cannot
—
Oh, wait, perhaps that slut of a Seeress is looking through the bird’s eyes. Regardless, the jungle is thick, and Malik and the others well hidden. Whatever the hawk and trollop are up to, it will do them no good.
 
 
Two nights later, Nunde watched as the
Eroean
, under sail, rode the night tide upriver. A candlemark later, the Elvenship tied up to the stone pier.
 
 
I have triumphed! Yes! And Aravan is mine!
 
 
46
 
 
Strife
 
 
ELVENSHIP
MID AUTUMN, 6E9
 
 
 
 
 
It took the rest of that day and all of the next to plumb the key part of the river, for not only did the main channel need to be found and its depth charted, but the measure across its width as well. Too, when the rowers came to the stone quay, they had to sound up to and all along the length of its brim and somewhat beyond to see if the
Eroean
could safely tie up without becoming grounded.
 
 
A map was made of the findings, and, running on staysails alone, on the inflowing night tide the Elvenship fared upriver to the pier, where the crew moored her. They left the staysails up but luffing, in the event they needed to move away from the dock quickly. Yet the
Eroean
was much like a floating fortress, with its ballistas and the warband’s crossbows and lethal quarrels and their mêlée battle gear, as well as the sailors’ own bows and arrows and falchions and boarding axes.
 
 
Mindful of Lady Aylis’s reading, they set a sharp watch and made ready for combat, should ought come to wage war ’gainst them.
 
 
The next morning, Brekk and a squad of Dwarves marched down the gangplank, Lissa on Vex running ahead. Valké soared high above in his natural element, for the falcon was wild, and for the raptor to fly below the jungle canopy and among branches and leaves went against Valké’s nature.
 
 
Aylis and the sailors and Dokan and the remainder of the warband watched them go, including Pipper and Binkton, Binkton complaining mightily: “What kind of a rat-eating decision was that? Brekk leaving us behind when we are scouts, too?”
 
 
“Right you are, Bink,” said Pipper. “We should be out front with Liss. I mean, what good is a scout that doesn’t find out what’s ahead?”
 
 
Dokan rumbled deep in his throat and said, “Given Lady Aylis’s readings, this is just a quick probe to see if enemies lie to the fore. And a Pysk on a fox is swifter than Waerans afoot.”
 
 
“Yes, but—” Binkton started to respond, yet Pipper said, “He’s right, Bink. Much as I don’t like staying behind, Dokan is right.”
 
 
 
High above the thick jungle Valké soared. Only now and then did the raptor catch a glimpse of the warband below, for the interlace of leaves and limbs of the tall, vine-laden trees with little or no gaps was simply too dense to see through no matter the keenness of sight. And of the fox and its rider, he saw nothing at all.
 
 
Valké soared toward the towers he could see in the near distance, and as he approached the falcon sensed danger, but what it might be, the raptor could not say, only that peril lurked . . . somewhere.
 
 
 
Down within the green and humid and close jungle, Lissa and Vex coursed, the fox swift and ranging in a sweeping zigzag run. Past huge banyan trees they ran, where widespread aerial branches descended to plunge into the soil and become additional rooted support. Forest giants, too, soared upward, their flanged trunks like buttresses. Liana vines twisted out from the damp loam and about the trunks, and drooped like dangling ropes high above. Massive roots snaked across the soil among the undergrowth down within the canopy-shadowed dimness, the shade pierced now and again by errant shafts of sunlight. Tiny rills trickled toward the river, only to vanish among the ever-thirsty foliage. Gnats and midges swirled in swarms, seeking warm-blooded creatures, and an occasional bird winged among the branches high above. Amid ferns and broad-leafed plants did fox and rider weave, and past slender trees, saplings struggling to find light and growth of their own. The land rose as Lissa and Vex approached the hills, and back and forth and up the slant they fared. Of a sudden the vixen froze, her nose in the air, quietly taking in a scent.
 
 
“What is it, Vex?”
 
 
[Bad,] the fox indicated with her ears.
 
 
“What is it?”
 
 
[Many bad.]
 
 
“Foul Folk?”
 
 
A quick bob of Vex’s head confirmed that Spawn were somewhere nigh.
 
 
“Where Foul Folk?”
 
 
Vex raised her nose into the faint breeze flowing toward the river. Then she stealthily ranged left then right. Finally she indicated, [Ahead.]
 
 
Somewhere to the fore lay Foul Folk in wait, or so the vixen did say.
 
 
Lissa turned the fox, and back down the hint of a trail she sped. Swiftly she came to the Dwarves, slowly making their own way up the trace through the undergrowth. When the Fox Rider appeared, Brekk signaled a halt.
 
 
“Spawn,” said Lissa.
 
 
“Where?” asked Brekk, taking a firmer grip on his war hammer.
 
 
“Ahead.”
 
 
“How many?”
 
 
“That I cannot say, though Vex indicates many.”
 
 
Brekk growled. “This, then, is the peril Lady Aylis foresaw in her sword-laden spread?”
 
 
“Perhaps.”
 
 
Brekk nodded. “Then, Scout, as planned, we will return to the
Eroean
, while you get closer and gauge their numbers, but stray not too near, for Ükken archers can be deadly.”
 
 
Without another word, Lissa turned Vex and slipped off to the side of the trail, while Brekk and the squad started back for the ship.
 
 
 
“I counted nearly two hundred Spaunen, four Trolls among them. The rest are Rucha and Loka, nearly fifty of the latter. And there is a Human with them as well, or so I surmised he was, yet I couldn’t see him closely.”
 
 
Aravan nodded, and Lissa sat down atop the table.
 
 
“What we do about Troll, Kapitan?” asked Nikolai.
 
 
Brekk nodded and added, “They are the most formidable of a Grg band. Alone, they could devastate us.”
 
 
“We can deal with the Ükhs and Hrôks, and the Human, but the Trolls be another matter,” said Dokan.
 
 
“I have a plan for the Trolls,” said Aravan, “but the one who might be a Human, what if he is a Mage instead?”
 
 
All eyes turned to Aylis.
 
 
“Magekind is just as vulnerable to slings and arrows and blades as are others,” said the Seeress. “It is simply a matter of getting close enough to take him unaware.”
 
 
“The King,” blurted Pipper.
 
 
Binkton groaned.
 
 
“What I mean, Bink,” said Pipper, “is the King of Swords. Could this Human or Wizard be the King of Swords?”
 
 
Again all eyes turned to Aylis. “Perhaps.”
 
 
“He might also be the Knight of Swords,” said Lissa.
 
 
“Wull, then,” said Long Tom, who hadn’t been to Aylis’s reading but who had heard all about it, “j’st who be th’ King if this’n be th’ Knoight?”
 
 
Aylis turned up her hands. “There’s no way of knowing which is which, or if even the cards spoke of this person who mingles with the Spawn, whether or no he is Human or Mage.”
 
 
“I think it matters not at all,” said Aravan, “if he is the Knight or the King. What matters most is that we come up with a means to deal with this threat, and for this I have a plan.”
 
 
“Wull, Captain,” said Long Tom, “that’d be more’n Oi got, for Oi can’t think o’ nothing but sailin’ off ’n’ wiaitin’ f’r another day, ’r sneakin’ ’round ’em.”
 
 
“Uncle Arley!” blurted Pipper.
 
 
“Oh, Pip, you nobberjowl,” said Binkton. “What in the world popped into that head of yours?”
 
 
“Stealth and guile,” said Pipper. “That’s what Uncle Arley’d recommend. Show them one thing, but give them something else altogether.”
 
 
Aravan laughed and said, “Exactly so, Pipper. Exactly so.”
 
 
Aravan then turned to Long Tom. “Other than me, who among the crew are fleetest of foot? Four of us will do.”
 
 
“James be swift,” said Long Tom, scratching his jaw, looking across at the bosun. “ ’N’ then there be Dinny and Noddy, ’n’ me with m’ longleggedy stroide.”
 
 
Aravan shook his head. “Dinny is too young, Tom, and I would have thee aboard the ship, and I can’t risk both bosuns.”
 
 
“Wull, then, Oi’d say James be swifter’n Noddy.”
 
 
Aravan looked at First Bosun James. “Are you up to a risky, mayhap fatal venture?”
 
 
James nodded. “I am, Captain.”
 
 
“All right. Then James and I are two. Who else?”
 
 
 
The planning went on throughout the rest of the day, but at last all was decided.
 
 
In the darkness, Aravan, Long Tom, and four crewmen rowed a dinghy away from the ship. They payed out a hawser attached to the port-bow anchor winch of the
Eroean
, the other end tied to the shaft eyelet of that anchor in the rowboat with the crew. They fared some two hundred feet upstream and perhaps fifty toward midriver, where Aravan called a halt. All six aboard lifted the heavy weight and dropped it over-side, its blunt but heavy tines turning as the mass fell to the bottom. When they returned to the Elvenship, Long Tom and the crewmen cranked the winch to make certain the anchor had dug deep into the river bottom.
 
 
When the hawser grew taut and the mooring lines tying the ship to the pier groaned under the strain and the men could wind no more, “She be well anchored, Cap’n, she be, she is,” said Long Tom.
 
 
“Then, we are ready.”
 
 
 
In the light of dawn, Lissa on Vex led the way down the footway ramp, followed by Aravan, with James and Finn after, and Dinny coming last. In spite of his youth and in face of arguments to the contrary, Dinny convinced Aravan he should be allowed to act as bait with the others, for he was truly swift. Each bore a bow and two oil-soaked fire-arrows.
 
 
Aboard the
Eroean
, the warband made the ballistas ready, and Long Tom and other sailors with boarding axes stood by the mooring lines as well as the staysails, should they be needed.
 
 
Pipper counted his sling bullets, and Binkton his arrows, while Aylis, her heart pounding in fear for Aravan, stood by, a bow in hand as well.
 
 
Sailors with nought to do fingered the hilts of their falchions as if making certain the weapons were there, or checked their bows and arrows again and again. . . .

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