Magician (12 page)

“Oh, no,” said Pug. “If
there is any trouble down there and the Duke finds out I didn’t
tell someone else, I’ll be in for it.”

“Look, Pug. Do you think with all
these people rushing about, the Duke will be long in hearing of it?”
Tomas ran his hand through his hair. “Someone is probably in
the great hall right now, telling him the news. Master Fannon is away
on patrol, and Kulgan won’t be back awhile yet.” Kulgan
was due back later that day from his cottage in the forest, where he
and Meecham had spent the last week. “It may be our only chance
to see a shipwreck.” A look of sudden inspiration came over his
face. “Pug, I have it! You’re a member of the court now.
Come along, and when we get there, you declare for the Duke.” A
calculating expression crossed his face. “And if we find a rich
bauble or two, who’s to know?”

“I would know.” Pug thought
a moment. “I can’t properly declare for the Duke, then
take something for myself . . .” He fixed Tomas with a
disapproving expression. “. . . or let one of his men-at-arms
take something either.” As Tomas’s face showed his
embarrassment, Pug said, “But we can still see the wreck! Come
one!”

Pug was suddenly taken with the idea of
using his new office, and if he could get there before too much was
earned away or someone was hurt, the Duke would be pleased with him.
“All right,” he said, “I’ll saddle a horse
and we can ride down there before everything is stolen.” Pug
turned and ran for the stable Tomas caught up with him as he opened
the large wooden doors. “But, Pug, I have never been on a horse
in my life. I don’t know how.”

“It’s simple,” Pug
said, taking a bridle and saddle from the tack room. He spied the
large grey he had ridden the day he and the Princess had their
adventure. “I’ll ride and you sit behind me. Just keep
your arms around my waist, and you won’t fall off.”

Tomas looked doubtful. “I’m
to depend on you?” He shook his head “After all, who has
looked after you all these years?”

Pug threw him a wicked smile. “Your
mother. Now fetch a sword from the armory in case there’s
trouble. You may get to play soldier yet.”

Tomas looked pleased at the prospect
and ran out the door. A few minutes later the large grey with the two
boys mounted on her back lumbered out the main gate, heading down the
road toward Sailor’s Grief.

The surf was pounding as the boys came
in sight of the wreckage. Only a few villagers were approaching the
site, and they scattered as soon as a horse and rider appeared, for
it could only be a noble from the court to declare the wreck’s
salvage for the Duke. By the time Pug reined in, no one was about.

Pug said, “Come on. We’ve
got a few minutes to look around before anyone else gets here.”

Dismounting, the boys left the mare to
graze in a little stand of grass only fifty yards from the rocks
Running through the sand, the boys laughed, with Tomas raising the
sword aloft, trying to sound fierce as he yelled old war cries
learned from the sagas. Not that he had any delusions about his
ability to use it, but it might make someone think twice about
attacking them—at least long enough for castle guards to
arrive.

As they neared the wreck, Tomas
whistled a low note. “This ship didn’t just run on the
rocks, Pug. It looks like it was driven by a storm.”

Pug said, “There certainly isn’t
much left, is there?”

Tomas scratched behind his right ear.
“No, just a section of the bow. I don’t understand. There
wasn’t any storm last night, just a strong wind. How could the
ship be broken up so badly?”

“I don’t know.”
Suddenly something registered on Pug. “Look at the bow. See how
it’s painted.”

The bow rested on the rocks, held there
until the tide rose. From the deck line down, the hull was painted a
bright green, and it shone with reflected sunlight, as if it had been
glazed over Instead of a figurehead, intricate designs were painted
in bright yellow, down to the waterline, which was a dull black. A
large blue-and-white eye had been painted several feet behind the
prow, and all the above-deck railing that they could see was painted
white.

Pug grabbed Tomas’s arm. “Look!”
He pointed to the water behind the prow, and Tomas could see a
shattered white mast extending a few feet above the surging foam.

Tomas took a step closer. “It’s
no Kingdom ship, for certain.” He turned to Pug. “Maybe
they were from Queg?”

“No,” answered Pug. “You’ve
seen as many Quegan ships as I have. This is nothing from Queg or the
Free Cities. I don’t think a ship like this has ever passed
these waters before. Let’s look around.”

Tomas seemed suddenly timid. “Careful,
Pug. There is something strange here, and I have an ill feeling.
Someone may still be about.”

Both boys looked around for a minute,
before Pug concluded, “I think not, whatever snapped that mast
and drove the ship ashore with enough force to wreck it this badly
must have killed any who tried to ride her in.”

Venturing closer, the boys found small
articles lying about, tossed among the rocks by the waves. They saw
broken crockery and boards, pieces of torn red sailcloth, and lengths
of rope Pug stopped and picked up a strange-looking dagger fashioned
from some unfamiliar material. It was a dull grey and was lighter
than steel, but still quite sharp.

Tomas tried to pull himself to the
railing, but couldn’t find a proper footing on the slippery
rocks. Pug moved along the hull until he found himself in danger of
having his boots washed by the tide; they could board the hulk if
they waded into the sea, but Pug was unwilling to ruin his good
clothing. He walked back to where Tomas stood studying the wreck.

Tomas pointed behind Pug. “If we
climb up to that ledge, we could lower ourselves down to the deck.”

Pug saw the ledge, a jutting single
piece of stone that started twenty feet back on their left, extending
upward and out to overhang the bow. It looked like an easy climb, and
Pug agreed. They pulled themselves up and inched along the ledge,
backs flat to the base of the bluffs. The path was narrow, but by
stepping carefully, they ran little risk of falling. They reached a
point above the hull; Tomas pointed. “Look. Bodies!”

Lying on the deck were two men, both
dressed in bright blue armor of unfamiliar design. One had his head
crushed by a fallen spar, but the other, lying facedown, didn’t
show any injuries, beyond his stillness Strapped across that man’s
back was an alien-looking broadsword, with strange serrated edges.
His head was covered by an equally alien-looking blue helmet,
potlike, with an outward flaring edge on the sides and back. Tomas
shouted over the sound of the surf, “I’m going to let
myself down. After I get on the deck, hand me the sword, and then
lower yourself so I can grab you.”

Tomas handed Pug the sword, then turned
around slowly. He knelt with his face against the cliff wall. Sliding
backward, he let himself down until he was almost hanging free. With
a shove he dropped the remaining four feet, landing safely Pug
reversed the sword and handed it down to Tomas, then followed his
friend’s lead, and in a moment they both stood on the deck. The
foredeck slanted alarmingly down toward the water, and they could
feel the ship move beneath their feet.

“The tide’s rising,”
Tomas shouted “It’ll lift what’s left of the ship
and smash it on the rocks. Everything will be lost.”

“Look around,” Pug shouted
back “Anything that looks worth saving we can try to throw up
on the ledge.”

Tomas nodded, and the boys started to
search the deck. Pug put as much space as he could between the bodies
and himself when he passed them. All across the deck, debris created
a confused spectacle for the eye. Trying to discern what might prove
valuable and what might not was difficult. At the rear of the deck
was a shattered rail, on either side of a ladder to what was left of
the main deck below: about six feet of planking remaining above the
water. Pug was sure that only a few feet more could be underwater, or
else the ship would be higher on the rocks. The rear of the ship must
have already been carried away on the tide.

Pug lay down on the deck and hung his
head over the edge. He saw a door to the right of the ladder. Yelling
for Tomas to join him, he made his way carefully down the ladder. The
lower deck was sagging, the undersupports having been caved in. He
grasped the handrail of the ladder for support. A moment later Tomas
stood beside him, stepped around Pug, and moved to the door. It hung
half-open, and he squeezed through with Pug a step behind. The cabin
was dark, for there was only a single port on the bulkhead next to
the door. In the gloom they could see many rich-looking pieces of
fabric and the shattered remnants of a table. What looked like a cot
or low bed lay upside down in a corner. Several small chests could be
seen, with their contents spread around the room as if tossed about
by some giant hand.

Tomas tried to search through the mess,
but nothing was recognizable as important or valuable. He found one
small bowl of unusual design glazed with bright colored figures on
the sides, and he put it inside his tunic.

Pug stood quietly, for something in the
cabin commanded his attention. A strange, urgent feeling had
overtaken him as soon as he had stepped in.

The wreck lurched, throwing Tomas off
balance. He caught himself on a chest, dropping the sword. “The
ship’s lifting. We’d better go.”

Pug didn’t answer, his attention
focused on the strange sensations Tomas grabbed his arm. “Come
on. The ship’ll break up in a minute.”

Pug shook his hand off. “A
moment. There is something.” His voice trailed off. Abruptly he
crossed the disordered room and pulled open a drawer in a latched
chest. It was empty. He yanked open another, then a third. In it was
the object of his search. He drew out a rolled parchment with a black
ribbon and black seal on it and thrust it into his shirt.

“Come on,” he shouted as he
passed Tomas. They raced up the ladder and scrambled over the deck.
The tide had raised the ship high enough for them to pull themselves
up to the ledge with ease, and they turned to sit.

The ship was now floating on the tide,
rocking forward and back, while the waves sent a wet spray into the
boys’ faces. They watched as the bow slid off the rocks,
timbers breaking with a loud and deep tearing sound, like a dying
moan. The bow lifted high, and the boys were splashed by waves
striking the cliffs below their ledge.

Out to sea the hulk floated, slowly
leaning over to its port side, until the outward surging tide came to
a halt.

Ponderously, it started back toward the
rocks Tomas grabbed at Pug’s arm, signaling him to follow. They
got up and made their way back to the beach. When they reached the
place where the rock overhung the sand, they jumped down.

A loud grinding sound made them turn to
see the hull driven onto the rocks Timbers shattered, and separated
with a shriek. The hull heaved to starboard, and debris started
sliding off the deck into the sea.

Suddenly Tomas reached over and caught
Pug’s arm. “Look.” He pointed at the wreck sliding
backward on the tide.

Pug couldn’t make out what he was
pointing at. “What is it?”

“I thought for a moment there was
only one body on deck.”

Pug looked at him. Tomas’s face
was set in an expression of worry. Abruptly it changed to anger.
“Damn!”

“What?”

“When I fell in the cabin, I
dropped the sword. Fannon will have my ears.”

A sound like an explosion of thunder
marked the final destruction of the wreck as the tide smashed it
against the cliff face. Now the shards of the once fine, if alien,
ship would be swept out to sea, to drift back in along the coast for
miles to the south over the next few days.

A low groan ending in a sharp cry made
the boys turn Standing behind them was the missing man from the ship,
the strange broadsword held loosely in his left hand and dragging in
the sand. His right arm was held tightly against his side; blood
could be seen running from under his blue breastplate, and from under
his helmet. He took a staggering step forward. His face was ashen,
and his eyes wide with pain and confusion. He shouted something
incomprehensible at the boys. They stepped back slowly, raising their
hands to show they were unarmed.

He took another step toward them, and
his knees sagged. He staggered erect and closed his eyes for a
moment. He was short and stocky, with powerfully muscled arms and
legs. Below the breastplate he wore a short skirt of blue cloth. On
his forearms were bracers, and on his legs, greaves that looked like
leather, above thonged sandals. He put his hand to his face and shook
his head. His eyes opened, and he regarded the boys again. Once more
he spoke in his alien tongue. When the boys said nothing, he appeared
to grow angry and yelled another series of strange words, from the
tone seemingly questions.

Pug gauged the distance necessary to
run past the man, who blocked the narrow strip of beach. He decided
it wasn’t worth the risk of finding out if the man was in a
condition to use that wicked-looking sword. As if sensing the boy’s
thoughts, the soldier staggered a few feet to his right, cutting off
any escape. He closed his eyes again, and what little color there was
in his face drained away. His gaze began to wander, and the sword
slipped from limp fingers Pug started to take a step toward him, for
it was now obvious that he could do them no harm.

As he neared the man, shouts sounded up
the beach Pug and Tomas saw Prince Arutha riding before a troop of
horsemen. The wounded soldier turned his head painfully at the sound
of approaching horses, and his eyes widened. A look of pure horror
crossed his face, and he tried to flee. He took three staggering
steps toward the water and fell forward into the sand.