For less than a moment.
Thousands of tons of stone crashed down, bringing more with it. The hollow boom echoed around Taura's natural harbor and beyond. As it fell, much was caught in a collapsing maelstrom of air and thrown far in all directions.
Most fell harmlessly into the sea. Some landed across the twin peninsulas, but missed the ships of the invasion fleet and spared everybody on land now running as hard as they could.
One corner of Castle Beren had completely gone.
But it was still not over.
Cracks appeared across Re Beren itself, as small faults in the rock strata, stimulated by the explosion and collapse, widened and weakened the rock. More cracks appeared in the curtain walls around the northeast tower as the land on which it stood began to slide, imperceptibly at first, towards the sea.
As the land cracked, the moat burst free to cascade in a waterfall that lasted less than a minute.
A low rumble, together with tremors, built in intensity, then part of Re Beren broke free and tilted, dragging the northeast tower with it.
Whole, and still proudly displaying the Mametain's brown fox from both flagpoles, the tower plunged into the sea to settle across the channel.
***
Admiral Iklaus, who had not looked at the earlier bright light, stared as the castle tower slid towards the water. The others who could still see were stunned to stillness.
Degan recovered first.
"Get the sail off!" screeched the ship's sylph, snatching the wheel from the stunned helmsman. She spun it to port, luffing into the wind. "Sails down. Down! Oars..."
Turning Sea Dragon into the wind, she had also turned the ship back towards Taura and this saved them.
The tower crashed into the water and spray from the huge splash spattered across the Sea Dragon's deck.
Men lowered the sails, leaving them in disarray and dashed for the oars, in case more of the castle or island might fall.
Captain Naeppin reasserted control and soon restored order. The other ships in the invasion fleet followed Sea Dragon's lead. Not that they had much choice.
All around the harbor, chaos reigned as a wave raced across quays and battered sea walls. The seaweed gatherers raced uphill to safety. They looked at each other and silently decided to give the gathering a miss today.
"I hope everybody is all right back there," muttered Degan. She glanced at the ruined castle.
Told you that boy was dangerous, said the ship, directly into her sylph's mind.
How can you tell he had anything to do with it?
It was him. I just know. The ship refused to elaborate.
Iklaus stared at the remains of Castle Beren. The stricken tower lay across the channel. Nothing bigger than a small fishing boat could now get in or out of the harbor. Worse, when the tide ebbed and exposed more of the wrecked tower, it would probably collapse under its own weight and block the channel more effectively.
It might take weeks to clear.
"Siranva's plans run against ours," muttered Naeppin.
Iklaus ignored him. Everybody knew Siranva had no interest in human affairs. He turned his attention to Degan, now relieved from the wheel.
"Good reaction," he said. "You and the ship are to be commended. A little further and that would have smashed us into kindling."
Decorum be hanged. He tickled the ship sylph's earpoints and she murmured in pleasure.
"Tonight, you can eat as much choca as you can hold." Iklaus wished the words back the moment he uttered them. Too much choca often had unfortunate consequences.
Degan murmured something without words and arched her back.
"How will we reach the mainland now, sir?" asked Naeppin.
Iklaus wondered how this man ever made it as far as he had. "Captain Naeppin, I think we are staying in Taura for the foreseeable future."
***
Balnus sat on his stone bed and stared at the opposite wall. The door had a grille set into it, letting in light. He had no idea what had happened to Verdin, but assumed he was in another cell.
He must hold on to his courage as he waited. Waiting always encouraged people to talk.
A jangle of keys and a face at the grille was all the warning he had before the door swung open. He tensed.
"All right," said the jailer, "you are free to leave."
Balnus stared at the man with incomprehension.
"If you're waiting for me to carry you out and kiss you goodbye, you'll be there when the world ends."
Balnus still stared. Was this a joke? "Why?" he asked.
The jailer shrugged. "Mametain's orders," he said. "All prisoners arrested for treason and sedition to be released."
"All of us?" asked Balnus, scrambling to his feet.
"All of you."
"Why would he order that?"
The jailer managed a hint of a smile. "Take a look at Castle Beren when you leave," he replied.
Balnus left the cell and saw one or two other co-conspirators emerge, blinking uncertainly. They had not expected this.
"Get out of my jail!" roared the jailer. "Up the stairs and go home!"
Balnus stumbled into daylight and fresh air. He found Verdin sitting on a wall nearby, staring towards the sea.
The younger man turned and smiled at Balnus. "Look at that."
Balnus was vaguely aware of other released prisoners also staring across the harbor.
"Ranva's globes," he breathed. "Half of it's gone."
He stared at the missing part of the castle and saw the ships milling about before the blocked channel.
"Looks like the invasion's off," said Verdin. "No way around that."
"One of the castle turrets?" asked Balnus.
"Looks like it came down whole," replied Verdin. "Won't stay that way for long though."
"But how?" Another thought came to Balnus and he gripped his companion's arm. "Neptarik!" he exclaimed. "People must have been hurt. What if...?"
"We'll find out soon enough."
"We're going to find out now." Determination firmed Balnus's voice. "He is my sylph and we must make sure he's all right."
"This is Neptarik we're talking about," said Verdin. "Of course he's all right."
"What if he was in that tower when it came down? How many are dead or missing? What if...?"
Verdin gripped the other man's shoulder. "He's fine, I swear. He probably caused the mess."
Balnus stared. It was getting to be a habit. "He's a sylph, not a demolition expert."
"Well, if you insist, let's go for a look-see."
Balnus nodded and stood to leave. Being free felt good, but he would never forgive himself if anything had happened to Neptarik.
***
The sea outside Taura's harbor was eerily quiet. Refuse from Castle Beren's catapult dotted the sea, riding the passing waves. Growing steadily more waterlogged, most sank. Air trapped beneath a bolt of blue cloth finally escaped and it slipped beneath the waves forever.
Two sylph heads abruptly broke the surface. Neptarik and Mya took deep lungfuls of fresh air and stared at the ruined stump of Castle Beren in amazement.
"You still have not answered my question," said Neptarik.
He grinned to himself as he espied the turret blocking the channel. There would be no invasion now.
"Did we make this mess?" asked Mya. "And I answered, yes."
Their arms twined around each other and earpoints met. Slowly, those earpoints locked as the sylphs kissed.
Neither noticed a ship heave to behind them, nor heard its seaboat smack into the sea the moment that ship came to a stop.
"Want picking up, love-birds?" asked a voice that sounded like it was resisting laughter.
The sylphs sprang apart and stared at the faces looking down at them. Neptarik's mouth fell open as he recognized them.
"How did you get here?" he squeaked. "Is Flying Cloud here?"
Strong arms reached out and deposited both sylphs in the bottom of the boat, seawater streamin
g from their clothes.
"We got here by sailing," replied the boat's coxswain, "which is how ships usually move about. And yes, Flying Cloud is here."
Neptarik remembered the man: Master's Mate Grenard. He looked over the side and laughed as he saw Flying Cloud. Half her sails pushed against the rest and the ship rode the waves easily. Black and gold streamers flew from every mast and he recognized Marka's black and gold Imperial ensign.
As the boat drew nearer the falls, he looked up into the smiling eyes of a sylph.
He had never been so glad to see her.
Still dripping seawater, Neptarik and Mya were the first onto the ship's decks.
Cloudy smiled and managed a small bow.
"Welcome aboard, Neptarik," she said. "And welcome back."
Mya stared. "You know her?" she asked.
Neptarik smiled. "Cloudy, meet Mya; Mya, this is Cloudy."
The ship's sylph inclined her head again. "Welcome aboard Flying Cloud, Mya."
Captain Liffen smiled at his guests. "We'll have to put in at Safeford," he told Cloudy. "That channel is completely blocked."
"But how come you are here at all?" asked Neptarik. "I am very glad to see you, of course."
"We are here making a fortune selling red tea," Cloudy replied. She flashed her lopsided smile. "And waiting for old friends to drop in."
Neptarik managed a smug smile. He put an arm around Mya's shoulders. His wife.
All was well with his world.
***
Men from the fishing hamlets trawled across the rubble, which was all that remained of half of Castle Beren. They avoided the fresh cliff and ignored where curtain walls ended in jagged lines.
They also pretended not to notice those blocks cut more smoothly than any mason could manage.
More men joined them as boats that had put off from the other villages, and even from Taura itself, reached the castle and found somewhere to land.
All wanted to help find survivors and, as an added bonus, there was always the chance of loot. For the ghoulish, perhaps a corpse or two.
Nobody paid much attention to the impressive ship hove-to below. Now unable to enter Taura's harbor, this trader could not profit from another's disaster.
Mostly sailors themselves, a few paused to admire the lines of that ship; the black and gold bunting on each mast a striking sight as the freshening breeze helped it stream proudly.
But they went back to hunting for survivors and loot, and ignoring the too-straight lines among the rubble.
"Here's one!" shouted someone and a small crowd instantly gathered.
A sylph lay amid the rubble, some partly covering her. Her exposed skin was gray with dust and dirt. No soul could possibly have survived that explosion, yet her body held heat.
"Still alive!" someone else exclaimed.
The men redoubled their efforts and cleared what little rubble covered the sylph. Blood oozed from injuries. Pulling a survivor from the wreckage was more important than loot. A miracle that the sylph had survived at all.
One man carefully felt for broken bones.
"Not bust a thing," he called up.
The crowd gave a small cheer.
The sylph opened her eyes.
She glowered at her rescuers before brushing dust and small stones off herself. As she climbed out of the hole, she shook off all offers of help and stared around.
"I am still here," she announced in a flat voice.
"You are," said one of the men. "We –"
The sylph screamed. A scream of rage and grief and frustration.
"What's that for?" another man demanded. "You're lucky. An ilven must be looking after you."
The survivor fixed him with a steely glance. "I doubt that," she replied. "At least, not the sort of ilven you mean."
With every word, the men looked less and less sure of themselves.
The sylph glared at them, snorted disparagingly and stalked away.
"Well, there's gratitude for you," commented one.
"Probably shock," said another. "We should sit her down."
But the sylph had passed through the arched doorway leading to the outer bailey. She was gone.
"Serves her right if she drops dead. What a carry on."
They soon pushed the strange sylph from conscious thought as the men continued to hunt for survivors and booty.
Tektu patted herself as she crossed the causeway and joined the road heading to Taura City. Her clothes and skin were almost back to their original color.
As she gained height, the ship came into view. He was there; she could point directly to him now, from wherever she might be in the world. She had failed to free herself during the limited time available, while her allegiance switched away from her old master. Her loyalties had changed.
Despite her efforts with crossbow and catapult, Nijen's killer lived, and now she was trapped again. The change marked her failure to escape. Gritting her teeth against the pain wracking the weak body she was forced to inhabit, she limped along the road.
The curse that had imprisoned her for generations now compelled her to seek him who had won her in combat.
A snarl turned her lips as she stared at the ship.
She had a new master now.
***
Nicholas A. Rose is the author of the Ilvenworld novels and novellas. He enjoys everything to do with the sea, the outdoors and the mountains, which he finds inspirational. Nicholas also enjoys the rather more sedentary pastimes of chess, reading, real ale and, of course, writing.
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends