Chapter Three
BARGONAST scanned the terrain below for signs of pursuit. His eyes flicked nervously, isolating tiny movements of grass or leaves. The fear was back gnawing at his guts, producing cold sweat in the still heat of the afternoon.
The rattle of a rock above whirled him about. Standing in the shadow of a wind-twisted tree stood a dark form. Bargonast's hand started instinctively for his dirk, but a whistling hiss and the crack of a long whip wrapping around his wrist arrested the movement. He looked into the drawn bows of Gwenay's dwarves.
"You were not so easily startled in the old days, Bargonast." The taunt of the Calixian queen was muffled by the deep cowl and veils obscuring her face.
"Bah," Bargonast spat in the pine needles and pulled the lash from his wrist. "Call off your vermin bowmen, hag, or give me a battle axe and I'll mow them like barley!"
"Still the braggart...you have not changed so much then."
"I did not come for your royal opinion, hag. I've come to claim what's owed."
"Perhaps I don't feel bound by King Jult's dead promise."
"You would not dare deny me!" His voice lost its confidence. "Ours was a blood pact... it must be honored!" The veins rose at his temples. "I will call on Jult's ghost to haunt you from his grave:"
Gwenay laughed. "An empty threat, warrior." Her voice softened. "His ghost is with me always. If I were to honor the pact, what favor would you ask of me?"
"I am hunted. I need sanctuary."
"You? But surely the chief assassin for the Dag-Arnak would have many friends to turn to."
"Don't taunt me, hag!" Bargonast licked his lips and looked quickly back down the slope. "The Dag-Arnak would slay me for a simple mistake-an unfortunate slip of the tongue?"
"You were drunk." Gwenay laughed. The big man responded like a small boy being scolded by his mother.
"?which gave away their plans," he continued, shame-faced. "I was attacked in the dark. I killed my attacker, and only afterwards I saw he was a priest."
"Not a very smart killing. I would have thought you knew better."
"So now the Dags have set the king's men to pursue me. I didn't realize what I was saying. For years I have served them, and faithfully... now, one mistake and I am on their death list."
"How ironic is that," Gwenay said, "You, who executed those on the death list, finding a place there." She paused and her voice became cold and dispassionate. "But killing a Dag...there is no place for a priest-bane to hide."
"I tell you it was a mistake. I didn't know he was a priest. He came at me in the dark, and it was only after the deed was done that I saw his robes." Bargonast had lost his bluster, "Your Calix is the only refuge for me in the south of Antillia."
"At best you are unwelcome."
"But only for a short time...a few days at most. I'll find a way to the islands," Bargonast pleaded, "but I'll need time...time to make arrangements."
The shrouded queen turned away and stood running her fingertips over the rough bark of the ancient tree, considering the obligation of her dead husband's pact. After some moments of thought she turned to Tword. "Take him to the hermit cave. Give him food and wine."
Bargonast opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it. Instead he followed in the direction of Tword's lead.
In the valley below, the hidden eyes of a Dagran scout followed the progress of the two as they traversed a narrow ledge up the side of the cliff.
When Gwenay returned she found Felic squatting at the edge of the lake, skipping flat stones across the water.
"That is a dangerous pastime, Felic m'Lans."
"What? Skipping rocks?" He rose and hurled one last stone.
"Yes. The one who lives at the bottom becomes irritated when sinking pebbles disturb his rest."
Felic laughed. "Do you mean you have a pet sea monster down there?"
"It is no pet," Gwenay threw back the hood of her cloak and her jet black tresses tumbled around her shoulders, "and it is one horror that is better left undisturbed."
"As you wish. And the one you went to meet. What of him?"
Gwenay took Felic's hand and led him along a sun-dappled path through the aspens. "I am not sure he concerns you. However he might fit into my plans." They entered a grassy clearing where she spread her cloak and invited him to sit beside her. When he hesitated, her penetrating black eyes raked him impatiently. "Sit, Felic. I only want to talk business."
He colored slightly and sat down.
Her tone was matter-of-fact. "I have a ship. It isn't much but perhaps it could be put back in commission. It was Jult's royal yacht. I left it in the care of the harbor captain at Seaskal. He lived in it and maintained it until his death some time ago. Since then I know naught of it. You will go there and ascertain the seaworthiness of the vessel. If it can be of use for a trip to the Maijad Islands, I want it fitted out and made ready. I would leave before the season of storms."
"But Queen...a dock-ridden hulk, unused for over a score of years. Perhaps it would be better to dicker with the Dagrans for the purchase of a new vessel."
"I do not want my plans known. This will be my first journey outside of Calix since my exile. I would expect you to be very discreet, attracting as little attention as possible to yourself or to your work on the yacht."
"You say the yacht lies in Seaskal harbor?"
"Not exactly. It is tied to a small dock in a stream that feeds through the swamp and the mud flats north of the city. The area is grown over with willows and larger trees. You should be able to work there unnoticed."
Felic leaned back on his elbows and let the sun's lazy warmth tranquilize his body. "Well, it will do no harm to look at the scow. But I wouldn't hold too much hope for it, if I were you. It's probably half buried in swamp mud by now. Anyway, I'll leave in the morning."
"You'll leave now!"
Felic sat up, surprised by the finality in Gwenay's tone. Tword stood grinning at the edge of the clearing. Felic heaved himself to his feet with a sigh of resignation and, without a parting word, followed the dwarf.