City of Jade (57 page)
Authors: Dennis McKiernan
Again Aylis shrugged. “They say that jade is a special gemstone, yet what its properties might be, I cannot say. Those in Jinga call it ‘yu,’ and they attribute various powers to the different colors. I believe yellow jade is aligned with joy and fortune.”
“And my hair turned golden just because I was lying on a piece of yellow jade?”
“No. If I had to guess, I would say instead it was because your spirit was driven into it by all the the Shade had stolen.”
In that moment, Pipper and Binkton and Nikolai came bursting into the captain’s lounge. “Liss! They said you were awake!” cried Pipper.
“I give you hug, but it crush you,” said Nikolai.
“Something to celebrate,” said Binkton, smiling, and Binkton seldom smiled.
“I’m so glad you survived,” said Pipper.
“Me, too,” said Lissa. “—I mean, I’m glad each of you survived as well. And Aylis says you two saved us all.”
Pipper grinned and said, “Not bad for a pair of chicken thieves, eh?”
The lounge filled with laughter.
The next day the rain stopped, and the jungle turned into a steaming tangle of growth. The slain sailors and Dwarves were recovered from the jade structure where they had been placed, and were brought to an area near the ship. Even as fellow crewmen laid the five slain sailors to rest in stone cairns, the Dwarves hewed dead wood into billets, though it was wet from the storm, and constructed pyres, adding dry wood from the ship’s stores. They poured lamp oil over all, and placed their slain atop.
All the wounded who could be were brought to the deck to witness the rites. The captain made a solemn speech at the cairns, and many wept, and then he spoke of the fallen resting atop the pyres. And he called out each of the names of the slain—comrades, shipmates, sailors, and warriors—each one to be entered in honor in the
Eroean
’s log. Finally, at a signal from Brekk, members of the warband thrust torches into the wood. As the flames caught and smoke rose, Aravan and Aylis sang their souls into the sky, and not an eye was dry when they fell silent.
Eroean
’s log. Finally, at a signal from Brekk, members of the warband thrust torches into the wood. As the flames caught and smoke rose, Aravan and Aylis sang their souls into the sky, and not an eye was dry when they fell silent.
The river rose over the next four days as the upstream runoff found its way to the course, and throughout those same four days, sailors and warband laded precious jade into the ship’s holds.
The
Eroean
set sail on the outflowing tide of the swollen river the next morning.
Eroean
set sail on the outflowing tide of the swollen river the next morning.
She was on her way to Arbalin.
52
Homeward
ELVENSHIP
LATE AUTUMN, 6E9, TO EARLY SPRING, 6E10
LATE AUTUMN, 6E9, TO EARLY SPRING, 6E10
James died of his wound six days after leaving the City of Jade behind. The Rûcken arrow had borne a festering disease, and a terrible dark rot had set in. There was nought Desault could do to stay the dark putrefaction, though poppy juice held back the pain somewhat. Ere James became too weak to talk, he had said to Aravan, “Cap’n, I’ve spent nearly all of my life asea, and so let it have me when I am gone.” And so, when he died, they sewed James in canvas weighted with a ship’s ballast stone, for that was what he wanted, and they gave him over to Gralon, god of the oceans.
Noddy was devastated, and during the ceremony he reverted to his East Lindor accent, saying, “He taught me everything Oi know, fro’ the settin’ o’ th’ sails t’ get th’ most outta th’ wind t’ th’ blowin’ o’ th’ poipe. ’N’ e’en though Oi allus wanted t’ be head bosun on th’
Eroean
, Oi allus thought it’d be when James took t’ th’ land, ’n’ not loik this, oh, no, not loik this.”
Eroean
, Oi allus thought it’d be when James took t’ th’ land, ’n’ not loik this, oh, no, not loik this.”
In these same six days, one sailor lost a foot to the Rûck-arrow blight, and another his left arm, Desault wielding his bone saw to save the lives of these men.
The wind was too strong for even the
Eroean
to make passage around the Cape of Storms, and so they came about and headed for the Silver Straits, which at this time of year was passable, for it was the warm season in the south.
They stopped off at the Great Isle in the Silver Sea to take on fresh water and provisions, after which they sailed onward, entering the South Polar Sea on Winterday.
Sailors warned the Warrows about the Grey Lady, and Binkton scoffed, while Pipper’s eyes grew wide in wonderment. But then he said, “Oh, Bink, I’ll have nightmares about a ghost ship, her sails all tattered, and a crew of lost spirits aboard.”
“Pip, you’ve already faced the worst wraith you’ll ever see, and look what you did to it. So, if any ghost ever tries to get you, just remind it of the fate of the Shade, and the ghost’ll run away screaming in fear.”
They sailed the Silver Straits without incident.
At the Calms of the Goat they spent nearly three weeks rowing through still air, and two weeks crossing the Midline Doldrums, and then another three weeks at the Calms of the Crab.
But finally, the wind returned and the
Eroean
sped across the water, to finally come to the Straits of Kistan and the Avagon Sea beyond.
Eroean
sped across the water, to finally come to the Straits of Kistan and the Avagon Sea beyond.
Six days later and running before a westerly wind, the Elvenship
Eroean
came on and on, churning a white wake astern, with every bit of silken sail she could fly—mains and studs, jibs and spanker, staysails, topsails, gallants and royals, skysails and moonrakers and starscrapers—filled to the full. Eastward through the indigo waters of the deep blue Avagon Sea she ran, bearing some points to the north, the strong driving winds on her larboard beam aft. No other ship in the waters of Mithgar was faster; no other ship even came close.
Above the waterline her blue hull bore blackened smudges, as if she had taken damage from raiders, as of fireballs cast upon her. And indeed she had been set upon by a fleet of the Rovers of Kistan in the perilous long strait north of that isle. But she had given better than she had gotten, for three of the crimson-sailed dhows now lay at the bottom of the sea, while two others drifted aimlessly in the waters, their masts and sails and much of their decks in ruin, their foolish captains dead.
Yet that had occurred some two thousand sea miles astern, though it was but six days ago.
At her helm stood Aylis, brown-haired and tall and slender, a sprinkle of freckles high on her cheeks. Now and again she made slight adjustments in the set of the wheel, as if an occasional minor movement in response to a twitch in the wind kept the ship running swift and true.
Standing back on the aft deck and watching the lady helmsman maintain the course of the ship stood Fat Jim, his left arm in a sling, for it had been shattered by a hurled slingstone. Even so, still his hands twitched in synchronicity with each slight shift the lady made, and he nodded vigorously in agreement at every small turn of the wheel.
Aft of them both and with one elbow against the taffrail lounged Aravan, his tilted, sapphire blue eyes atwinkle, a slight smile on his face as he watched.
In the late-afternoon sunlight lying aglance ’cross the waves, up the ladder to the aft deck came Long Tom, tall and sandy haired and as broad as a great slab of beef. “M’lady Aylis,” he said as he passed the helm, but she was concentrating on the wind-ribbon above, high atop the raked-back mizzenmast, and she did not reply, but made another slight adjustment instead.
“Fat Jim,” said Long Tom, nodding to the rotund Pellarian, the
Eroean
’s first steersman.
Eroean
’s first steersman.
“Tom,” replied Fat Jim, without looking at the big man, but instead shifting his gaze from the streaming ribbon above to watch the lady’s corresponding nudge of the helm.
“Cap’n Aravan,” said the huge man.
“Long Tom,” replied Aravan, shifting his attention to the first officer.
“Cap’n,” said Long Tom, “th’ crew has cleaned up the last o’ th’ damage done to th’ decks, and they’ve replaced the two silks what was ruint by the bluidy Kistanee-flung fire. An’ Brekk says that th’ ballistas are as good as new, him ’n’ his Dwarven warband settin’ them t’rights. Th’ only thing left is t’take th’ soot ’n’ smudge off th’ sides o’ th’ hull and t’lay on a bit o’ fresh paint, there where th’ other fireballs struck. Soon as we drop anchor in Port Arbalin, I’ll see the men get right to it.”
Aravan shook his head. “Nay, Tom. After those yet injured are taken ashore and put in the care of the healers, as soon as the cargo is unladed and we moor in the harbor beyond, we’ll take some time aland—a moon and fortnight at least, mayhap more—for this voyage has been hard on us all, and we deserve a goodly rest and time for wounds to heal, both those we can see and those we cannot. Hence, apart from a watch, we’ll set the crew to shore leave, rotating the ward until all have had a fine fling, and until those with the most severe injuries and who would sail on with us have had a fair chance to recover.
“And we’ll have to wait for Brekk to ride to the Red Hills and recruit eight Drimma to replace those we lost, and that will take three fortnights in all for the trip there and back.”
“Cap’n, Oi’d loike t’help sign on th’ Men we’ll need t’ bring th’ sailor crew up t’ full complement.”
“Fear not, Tom, for when it comes to recruiting more Men for the crew I would have thee at my side along with Aylis, for I would have nought but the best; hence, I’ll send word to thee.
“But as for staying aboard the ship, I know thou wouldst rather hie to that redheaded wife of thine, as well as thy boy Little Tom, and I would not deny thee that.”
“Cap’n, Larissa understands Oi’ve a duty t’th’
Eroean
.”
Eroean
.”
“Mayhap . . . yet I think Little Tom doesn’t.”
A great smile of relief lit up Long Tom’s face, and he said, “Oy, naow, Oi do b’lieve y’r roight about that, Cap’n. Oi do b’lieve y’r roight.”
Aravan stepped forward and surveyed the main deck teeming with sailors and warriors at the last of their chores, some of them, as did Fat Jim, yet bearing the remnants of hurt. In addition, Binkton and Pipper and Lissa were adeck, doing what they could to help with the cleanup and repairs. And belowdecks and under the care of Desault, there remained several of the more severely wounded, some who couldn’t seem to recover from the Rûcken arrows, yet they had none of the rotting blackness; still, three couldn’t quite get a full breath, while two others had numbness in arms and legs. And then there were those who were yet knitting severely broken bones. However, the majority of the cuts and bruises and punctures the crew had suffered had healed on the voyage home.
“We’ll put up at the Red Slipper,” said Aravan, turning once again to Long Tom.
“Oy, th’ crew’ll go f’r that,” came the reply. “Oi mean, we’ve been asea a goodly long spell, ’n’ they’ll welcome some toime wi’ th’ laidies o’ th’ Slipper.”
“I ween the ladies themselves would welcome that as well,” said Aravan, and he glanced at Aylis.
A low, throaty laugh was her response, but she took not her eye from the wind pennant above as she made a minor adjustment in the wheel, Fat Jim behind her twitching his hands in concert, the hefty helmsman’s mouth pursed in concentration.
“Besides,” added Long Tom, stepping forward and looking down on the main deck, “they c’d use some gaiety to help ’em get over their grievin’ for good comrades lost, ’n’ t’ help ’em forget our bad toime ashore.”
“Land ho!” came the cry from above. “Port Arbalin dead ahead!”
As Second Officer Nikolai came up the ladder to the aft deck, Aravan said, “Stand by to hale in the studs and full reef all others; we’ll take her in on nought but the stays.”
“Aye, Kapitan,” replied Nick, and he called orders to Noddy, bosun of the fastest ship in the world, and Noddy piped the commands to all.
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