The Warrior Returns - Anteros 04 (11 page)

Then pain hit me, as intense as anything I've ever experienced. I might have screamed—I can't say for certain if I did. Faintly I felt hands clutch at me. Faintly I was aware of Carale and the others. And I wanted to draw back, to flee that pain.

Just as I thought I could bear no more, the pain vanished.

I felt a gentle probing and knew it was the whale. She was saying she was sorry, that she didn't know, that if I couldn't help, she'd leave immediately. But I begged her to stay, to tell me what was wrong.

Suddenly I understood.

I made my senses into fingers and probed carefully through the great pain she felt. I felt life, so tenuous it was almost a ghost, throbbing inside her.

"Ah," I said. "Poor dear. You're with child."

Help me,
she said, using her thoughts to speak, rather than her mind.
Please.

It was then that I felt the broken spear shaft inside her. In my mind's eye I could see its jagged blade piercing the tube that gave life to the whale child.

I made a spell to give my magical fingers the skills of a surgeon and tried to gentle the spear point loose. The whale shuddered as I worked, but held very still, although I must have been hurting her greatly.

The spear point came loose.

Salty water mixed with blood shot out.

I felt the unborn creature stir, but weak
...
so weak. An infant's heart fluttered. Stopped. Then fluttered again.

And then I felt the whale child die.

I drew away. Angry at my failure. Cursing myself.

"I'm sorry, sister," I said. "So very sorry."

I felt the creature's sorrow deepen as she realized what'd happened. But then fingers of forgiveness touched me. And I knew that at least the great pain was gone, if only to be replaced by a different kind of wound.

And I asked her: "Who did this to you? Who killed your child?"

Beware the hunters,
she said. "Hunters? What hunters?"

An image floated up. It was the flag of the Ice Bear King!

Then she released me. I found myself standing on the deck of the ship, gaping at the huge creature as she slowly made her way back to the herd.

Blood trailed in her wake.

Carale took me by the shoulders and forced me around. His eyes were wide with alarm, his face pale. "What happened, me lady?" he asked. "Are you all right?"

I unstuck his fingers and stepped back. I wiped the perspiration from my brow with an unsteady hand. Then I pulled myself together.

"We'd better get ready," I said. "And we'd better be quick about it. I don't know how much time we have."

I
told them
all what had happened, but briefly. Sorcery and visions often frighten people; and men tend to become extremely skittish on the subject of pregnancy, especially one that goes awry. I noticed that although I didn't dwell on the details of the whale's agony and what I had attempted to do, they all turned green about the gills.

When I was done, Carale cleared his throat as if something unpleasant had risen up from his innards.

"Do ye think they'll be lyin' in wait fer us, me lady?" he croaked.

"I don't know," I said. "But from what I just experienced, they've clearly been in this area recently."

"Beggin' yer pardon, Lady Antero," Donarius said. "That don't mean they're a-knowin' we're about."

"That's very true," I said. "But we'd best not take the chance."

I had them clear the decks for action while I went into my cabin to investigate further.

I was weak from my encounter with the whale, so I brewed up a thin broth made from fish bones on my little wizard's brazier and added a hefty dollop of grog to give it heart. While it heated I stripped and daubed myself with a restorative much like I'd made for Daciar. In a little while I was feeling much better, glowing inside and out

I donned a loose robe covered with faded Evocator's symbols and drew my sorcerer's trunk over by the brazier. I opened it and rummaged through the drawers and cubbyholes built into it until I found the proper ingredients.

Night was full on us by the time all was ready. I squatted in front of the small brass stand and puffed on the coals until they winked into life.

I sprinkled incense on them, and a yellowish smoke arose. I breathed in deep, tasting flowers, then exhaled. The cabin walls dissolved and my spiritself floated up into the starry night.

I knew it to be cold and windy, yet I felt nothing but a rushing sensation. Beneath me the lights of the
Tern
and the white foam of the breaking waves grew smaller. The moon was full and I could feel its chilly tug at my essence. But I resisted easily, coming to a halt just beneath a cloud bank. The
Tern
was a shimmering dot below. At the horizon's edge I could see high ice-clad peaks reflected in the bright moonlight I pushed my senses in that direction as cautiously as I could. It was like inching forward in a brush-choked gully, sniffing for signs of a waiting enemy.

I felt the ghostly touch of a tendril and nearly bolted. But the motion would have given me away, so I stayed quite still, making my mind as blank as I could. The tendril moved about, touching my spiritself here and there. Then it grew bored and passed on.

I drew back slowly, knowing the slightest motion would signal the seeking presence.

Finally it was safe. I folded in and drifted back down to the ship. The cabin walls formed about me, and once again I was whole, squatting before the dancing flames in the brass bowl.

I smiled.

Our enemy was waiting. But it was just where I wanted them to wait.

the next morning
I huddled with Captain Carale, poring over our charts. With a finger I traced the outline of the nearest land mass, which was about a week's sail to the southwest. It showed as a big bulge of a peninsula, shaped, Carale joked, like a fat man's paunch. Beneath the paunch the coastline swooped downward for many leagues, finally dissolving into small chart-maker's dots where real knowledge ended and guesswork took over.

Before my previous expeditions, nearly the whole chart had been nothing but the lines and dots of a cartographer's imagination. The big-bellied peninsula, for instance, was unknown to Orissans until my first voyage south. The whole coastline beyond had been mapped in my other expeditions.

I jabbed at a point some leagues east of the peninsula. 'This is where I saw them," I said.

Carale peered closer. The point I'd marked showed up as a series of small islands, but we knew they were so low that they'd be underwater during heavy seas.

"Aye," he said. "Just as you said, me lady, it 'pears they swallowed our lovely bait."

The bait he was referring to was the story I'd asked the crew to spread about our jewel-hunting expedition. The islands lay just off the mouth of a river that cut west through the peninsula. This time of year the river would be mostly free of ice, and if we followed it, according to tribes I'd befriended in the area, the river would lead to wondrous falls that thundered down cliffs studded with gems.

Carale stroked his chin. "Do yer suppose there really be such riches in that place, me lady?" he asked.

"I don't know," I said. "But remember those emeralds they showed us. Flawless and big as a fist. The chief said he'd gotten them in trade from the tribe that lives in that area."

Carale laughed. "I remember well, me lady. The chief said we'd best stay clear of the place. Nothin' but savages, he said. Wicked fellers. Look at strangers t' see if they be fat 'nough for the village stew pot."

The memory made me laugh as well. The chief who'd deplored the savage habits of the People of the Falls had red fangs tattooed on his lips, and horns similarly applied to his shaven skull, and when we'd greeted him in his hide tent, he was stark naked—sporting a large golden pin inserted through his penis.

"My brother warned me about such talk," I said. "He told me every merchant soon learns that no matter how murderous your customers appear, they'll claim the real savages are just up the river or across the next desert."

Carale nodded. "Good way t' make certain they'll al'as be the middleman, I s'pose. Gotter deal with them if yer wants the goods."

"Maybe next time," I said, "we'll go look at those falls. We'll see for ourselves just how mean those people are. My bet is we'll be treated like visiting royalty. And they'll be sizing us up for fatter profits instead of tender joints for their stew."

Carale turned serious. "Do yer think they'll be a next time, me lady?" he asked. "What with this pirate traipsing about with his giants and all? Might put a pinch in the trade prospects."

"We'll take care of him soon enough," I said. I honestly believed that at the time. "I don't care what kind of forces he has at his disposal, men or magic. This whole region has been benefiting from the trade we've opened up.

"Once we get our people out, my brother can don his diplomatic cloak and talk to our friends about unified action against this so-called Ice Bear King. It won't be the first time—or the last, I suspect—that my brother's dealt with such matters. And they've always worked out before."

'That's true as me dear wife's heart, me lady," Carale said. "But like yer said, first we gotter pluck our friends outter harm's way."

Although the pirates had fallen for my ruse, it wouldn't be that easy to get past them. If we steered a straight course for Antero Bay, the first of the outposts, they'd be straddling our path. The best way would be to merely swing wide around them, make a dash for the outposts, and follow the same route back.

Carale immediately spotted the problem with that plan. "It's gettin' late in the year t' try t' just evade 'em, me lady," he said. "Storm season's almos' on us. Longer we take, more likely it'll be tha' we'll run into trouble. We might be prayin' t' the gods tha' it's only pirates we had t' worry about."

In our present position we were still in the more mild zones. If we sailed due west, the land we'd see wouldn't be much different than one would expect during winter in Orissa. The winters last much longer, but there were trees and sleeping vegetation waiting under the snow for the spring thaw. Farther south, however, little grew except thorny grasses. I've never seen a budding plant below the peninsula. And grasses soon gave way to naked frozen rock where the only green that could exist seemed to be a kind of slimy moss in the more sheltered tide pools.

It was not only eternally winter in those regions, but the most vicious winter conditions you could ever imagine. The storms are the stuff of horrid myths they tell around campfires.

And the demons who arrive with those storms, I'd been told, were the most evil and powerful demons of all.

At the time I didn't know how accurate those tales were, but I wasn't anxious to find out.

Carale and I had no choice but to lay out a course that would take us dangerously close to the waiting pirates. The trick, however, wouldn't be slipping past our human enemy. That'd be easy enough for a captain as skilled as Carale. It was our enemy's magical allies that most worried me.

The sorcerous net that had been spread was as powerful as anything I'd ever encountered. It had been a raw force I'd sensed the night before, with none of the elegance of our own Evocators.

But raw and primitive as that net seemed, I knew it'd be difficult to slip through.

the day was
gray when we approached—as gray as a pot freshly dipped in pewter. The sea and sky presented a solid surface that turned back all vision, leaving us feeling flat, without substance. The only sound was the slap of water under our bows and the flap and snap of our sails. The fog was so thick it seemed to swallow those sounds until all seemed no more than a ghostly rustle. I could feel the tingling edges of the sorcerer's net, and whispered directions to Carale to take us this way or that as we skirted the danger zone.

I'd raised the mist with an elementary spell, so simple I was sure it wouldn't be noticed. Beneath the spell I'd laid in another thin blanket of sorcery that dulled curiosity rather than turning it aside. If a wizard's suspicions were aroused by some accident, such as when the twins dropped a spar, my spell presented a boring answer to the wizard's probing. In that case I made the thunk of wood seem like the pop of a wave against a rocky shoal.

The great flaw in spells of that sort, and the main reason they are rarely used, is that they also blind the wizard who casts them.

In other words, I was as magically sightless as my enemy.

We weren't only dodging the pirates that day, but gingerly threading our way through the barren chain of small islands that sat off the peninsula's coast. My crew's abilities were stretched to the limit as we crept through the mist, all eyes peeled for the sudden appearance of jagged black rock poking out of the water.

When I thought we were opposite the river that led to the fabled emerald beds, I got out the small ship model Donarius had carved during the week's voyage. It was a rough approximation of the
Tern,
about the length of a pike and two hands wide. Fixed to the deck was an emerald bauble from my jewelry chest. It was a small sacrifice for such a purpose. Besides, I'd lost the matching earrings long ago.