Kavin's World (14 page)

“Ah,” said Thuramon, glancing at the dagger, and then at the hole. “You asked about the beasts, Lord Prince. You see now.”

“That? “
I asked.
“The dragon’s prey?”

“None but a dragon could enjoy such meat,” Thuramon said. “A dragon’s food is
a matter of much debate among such scholars as have
studied the breeds of dragon. Some dine only on maiden’s flesh, it’s said, though where such vast supplies of virgins may be had is again a trouble to the mind. And some, like these, require food such as would slay any other beast of prey who tasted it. Know you what manner of wolf that was who bled so?”

“No,” I said, looking at the pit in the deck with anger. “Except I would not want my clean decks fouled so.”

“There’s more than that in the matter,” Thuramon said. “Such beasts as these cannot be slain with iron weapons, as you see. And they are very fierce. Fortunately, they cannot come aboard; yet, we may not safely go where they are.” He looked toward the shore.

“Then this land is barred to us,” I said glumly.

“Not necessarily,” said Thuramon. “I see that dragons prey on the beasts, and therefore they will be cautious by day. And if those flecks in the sky are other dragons, the beasts will be fewer than they were in the old captain’s day.”

He glanced along the rail, where the cannon were lashed each in its place, and he studied them carefully, nodding. Then he glanced toward the culverins, screwed to braces on the foredeck and quarterdeck, and scratched his beard in deep thought.

“Tell me, my lord,” he said, “have you ever fired such a tool as that culverin, holding it like a bow?”

I laughed. “It would fling me like a horse’s kick, I’d think. I’ve heard of smaller guns, made to hold thus, but never seen one. Why?”

He nodded again. “Perhaps, if there were less powder… think you our ship’s smith could make a gun, like these, but smaller?”

“Such a gun would be of little use,” I protested. “A bowman could shoot faster by far than a man could stuff powder into a gun, light match, and set it off.”

“I’ve thought of a way to set fire to such a gun, a little more rapidly,” Thuramon said. “I’ll show how it may be done, later. But you are right, Prince, as far as matters of ordinary hunting or warfare
are
concerned. Incidentally, the bowmen too must be considered, as you say.
Hmm.”
He scratched his beard again in thought. “Silver, if the
sage
Geronis be right… how much silver have we aboard?”

“Silver?
Why, there are bags of coin, and some lumps stamped for the trade work… not much, since we paid most of it out when we parted company with the others,” I said. “Wealth was of no use to us, and much use to those who sailed to the cities of the west.”

“Too bad,” Thuramon said. “But a little silver, you say. Good, good… collect it all, my lord, from the other ships as well; even jewelry, armlets and rings… all that is of silver. Mold small bullets, and load a gun or two, the culverins there for choice. And if any silver be left, make a few arrowheads of it, and give those arrows to your finest bowman. Old Kakk Marag, I would say; he can hit any mark he aims at. And there may be only one chance to hit.”

He gave me no chance to question him, but trotted off importantly, seeking for the ship’s smith with loud cries.

I would have preferred to know more reasons; but failing reasons, when a wizard makes an odd request it’s best to fulfill it. One will learn the reason in good time enough. I gave orders to collect silver, and tossed my own arm rings in at once.

Thuramon, having consulted at length with our own smith, set out in a ship’s boat to bring back a second smith and another metalworker of some kind, a maker of tools. While at the other ship, he spoke to Kakk Marag concerning the silver arrowheads, and the graybeard became most excited. This I heard of later, how Kakk Marag had lapsed into his own language, and leaped up and down, invoking sundry savage gods.

“He has met such beasts himself,” said Thuramon to me, as we watched his smiths setting up their forge. “He fears them much, but hates them even more.”

“Hates? An odd word to use,” I said. “To hate a beast, as if it were a human enemy…”

“These beasts…” Thuramon spread his hands. “I have read widely in the ancient books, among works of scholars in both the natural wisdoms and in magic. Such works are often unclear, contradict each other, or say things in languages unknown to me.
Even me.
Yet, such beasts are spoken of. In other worlds…”

“Those other worlds again,” I said, a little sourly. “We seem beset by their livestock. Perhaps the invisibles, too, came from some other world. Only we seem barred from visiting these places that give us such a stream of unasked gifts.”

“When the time comes, my lord, that you have opportunity to pass through a gate to another world… well, you may not be quite so filled with eager curiosity,” Thuramon said.
“And as for the invisible ones, yes.
They may indeed have come here from elsewhere. Prince, the three I spoke of, our enemies, opened many gates. Our world is indeed beset by wanderers from other places, and will be more so, until those gates I spoke of are closed.” He looked very solemn.

The smiths were busy now with the thing he had been describing to them. It would be
a small
cannon, small indeed, I saw. Over the touch hole, an arm held a cord soaked in saltpeter and let to dry, such as cannoneers use to set off a gun. When the match touched down, pulled by a lever, the gun would fire.

“It may be held in the hands, or braced against a stick,” Thuramon said pridefully. “These works of metal are not within my proper skill, being more for artisans and engineers; yet I think it is a workable thing.”

“For use against the beasts, I should agree,” I said. “But for any other use, a bowman might feather you like a porcupine while you made it ready.”

“Except an arrow strike true and to the heart, these beasts will not die,” Thuramon said.
“But a lump of silver, big as a man’s thumb… that will slay.
You’ll see, my lord.”

We watched the forest of giant trees all that day, and not once did we see or hear any movement from the greenery. But once again, a dragon swooped down far away, and caught something, whether the same sort of beast or not I could not tell.

The craggy isle to starboard was the dragon’s home, I saw. There they flew with their meat, and once or twice I thought I saw a tiny speck, flying about the highest point. The island did not seem to be inhabitable, and I wondered where those natives lived of whom the scroll had spoken. I saw no sign of houses or even a landing place on this side.

But as we watched the forest, there seemed faint signs of something that lived there. Once a sharp-eyed sailor on the tops caught sight of a thin curl of smoke, far away, like a cooking fire. And, at evening, we heard a strange sound.

It was the sound of a bell, very distant, rung in a slow, steady time. Then, from even farther off, a second bell came like an echo.

“There are men in the forest, my lord.” Caltus, at my side, listened to the sound.

“There are bells,” I said. “I’ve seen no men yet.”

“If there are inhabitants, you’d think they would have heard of our presence, and come down to the shore.”

“Or else they wait, to set upon us in the night,” I suggested. “Set guards all night, Caltus.”

We did so. But in the morning, they had seen nothing. Still, as the sun rose, we heard the bells again.

“We’ll not lie here forever,” I said to Thuramon. “I’ve taken your words to guide me so far; when may we attempt the forest?”

He looked worried.

“I am not sure,” he said. “The beasts… my lord, I don’t know that silver will slay them. This is something written in an ancient book. They may be different, in some way…”

“Then we’d need to sail on, and on, until we find another land?” I asked. “We’re all tired of decks and soured wine and rock-hard beef. Someone seems to live in that land; there are the bells. And did you not say that only through this land can we come at our enemies, those three?”

“It may be…” 
Thuramon,
 began nervously. “Well, then, a small party, perhaps…”

I laughed. “Good wizard, if you fear to test your weapons, there’s no reason for you to come. Stay aboard, by all means.”

At this he changed his expression, and looked stubborn.

“I don’t fear the test,” he said. “The hand weapon will work. And you may need my other knowledge. I shall come.”

And so we set about the landing. The first party was led by 
myself
, and Thuramon, all atremble, went too. We took nine more, our best bowmen, including Kakk Marag; and every one of them carried silvertipped arrows in his quiver.

And also in the boat with us went the three hand cannon, loaded with slugs of silver. But I wore armor, and carried the same steel that had served me well before; I would not depend entirely on soft silver.

A single small boat, and eleven men, all told: 
not a great force, nor many to lose if all did not go well
. We lowered away, and rowed the short length to shore, and drew the boat up on the white sand.

There was no sound at all, except the wave-lap on the beach, and the rustle of wind in the trees ahead. From somewhere a bird twittered, and another answered. That was all.

Carefully we lit the matches of our guns, and walked forward, into the shade. Our bowmen nocked their arrows, and came along.

In the green shadows, the great trees rose about us like columns in an immense temple; long alleys stretched away in every direction, with slanting bars of sunlight between. And nowhere was there movement, or sound except the crack of branches under our feet.

In this way, we walked on, deeper into the forest, always watchful, until we came to a space among the trees, a kind of wide alley where only grass and brush grew. It looked strangely like a wide road, curving away toward the north and west.

Struck by the resemblance, I stopped, and the others with me. The turf was thin, as if it covered… stone. I bent, and thrust my sword tip in; and met the stone I thought was there.

It was in truth an ancient road, so ancient that the earth had nearly swallowed it. We followed its curving length, partly because it was easier to walk so than through the forest itself, and partly because, as Thuramon said, “A road leads 
somewhere,
 no?”

Then, as we came around a curve, there in the center of the road it sat waiting for us.

It was nearly the size of a horse, but to all appearances it was a white wolf. It sat on its haunches, for 
all the
 world like a watchful hound, contemplating us from eyes that shone redly in the tree’s shadow, a scarlet tongue lolling in a wolfish grin of white fangs, each a dagger’s length and sharpness.