"I can't make out the sail clearly!" he shouted back up to the man on the mast. "Can you see the patching?"
"I'm all but certain sure, master!" the lookout shouted back. "Two large overlapping patches low on the starboard side of the sail. And the ship is as Bloody Boots' ship has always been told of, with fighting castles high in bow and stern."
Jim had located the ship they were talking about now. But he, no more than anyone else aboard—for all were looking now—could make out anything special about the sail. He had a sudden idea. There was a bit of magic he had used before at least once. Dragons had vision very like that of hawks; they were able to make out relatively small objects on the ground from as high as two thousand feet above. What it required was a dragon's vision, plus a certain amount of focusing, so that the eyes literally shifted from a close-up view to a distant one. He wrote the necessary spell on the inside of his forehead.
ME TO HAVE DRAGON → DISTANTVISION
Instantly, the ship he was looking at seemed to leap to half the distance from them that it had appeared before. It was as the lookout on the mast had described it, a larger vessel than their own, with two walled platforms, high in the bow and stern. These platforms were filled with men; and, after a second, Jim made out the fact that they were holding some dark objects that looked very much like crossbows. In the waist of the ship there were more men.
He wrote the counterspell to return his vision to normal; and found himself staring almost directly into the face of the nearest seaman, who was staring back at him with features as white as paper. Jim was puzzled for a second; then he remembered that in order to focus his eyes for distance vision, a dragon altered their shape and moved them forward. In the deep eyesockets of a dragon's face, this change was not so apparent. In the human face it must have seemed as if his eyeballs had been bulging clear out of his head.
But there was no time to explain now.
"Edouard!" shouted Jim. "I can see distance very well. I've just looked at the ship. It does have a patch on the sail, and it does have the fighting castles fore and aft, with men on them who seem to be bearing crossbows. There are more in the waist!"
Edouard dropped back onto the deck near the prow, his boots thudding heavily on impact. He dropped down to the lower portion of the deck to face Jim and his other passengers.
"Messires, we are done for!" he said grimly. "I cannot outsail him in these light airs, and he carries men and weapons aboard that will surely finish us off; for no one is ever left alive on the losing side in these encounters on the narrow seas!"
"What's this?" snapped Brian. "What matter if they outnumber us? Unless they have armored knights aboard, we are the equal of any men they might be carrying!"
"Who is this Bloody Boots?" asked Giles.
"A damned Scotch pirate!" replied Edouard. "He slips down from Scotland, takes a prey, and is away again before any force can be brought against him greater than his own. As you see, he is carrying far more men than he needs merely to crew his ship. They will be weaponed and ready to kill those aboard any ship they take. We carry no valuable cargo—but he cannot know that. There is this ship, of course; which, if he can take it undamaged, he can crew with his extra men and sail back up north to sell."
Jim thought of the Emperor's ransom in jewels that they were secretly carrying; and which belonged to the French dragons. At the same time, he himself did not see how this Bloody Boots could have heard about that. Unless word had been somehow passed to him by magical means that among their baggage there was wealth beyond imagining.
"How many men would you say he has aboard?" Brian was asking Edouard.
"Twenty, at least," answered Edouard. "If not twenty, at least so many as we cannot stand against."
"Speak for yourself and your crewmen. Master shipman!" said Brian. "I tell you again that unless he has knights armed and armored with him, if he had thirty men we need not fear him."
"He is a knight himself, I think," said Edouard. "But I cannot think that he will have any others of his rank with him. But his men may well be in half armor, or light armor, or however you landsmen say such things."
"As I say," said Brian, "we are their match and more. You have three knights, who can be in full armor by the time they are next to us. And of them, I, at least, am no babe with weapons; and I venture to say the good Sir Giles is not either, and Sir James—"
There was a slight hesitation in his voice but then he went on boldly enough.
"—He is the very man I would like to have at my side in such small bicker as this will be. Do you sail on, as if you had not seen him, or care not whether he is there or not; and meanwhile I and my two friends will dress for battle."
"Sir knight, sir knight," said Edouard almost wearily. "Did you not hear messire here"—he nodded at Jim—"say that there were crossbowmen in their fighting castles? Even your armor will not be proof against their bolts at very short range. I tell you, we are helpless before them, as sheep before the butcher."
"Nay, Master shipman," interposed the quiet voice of Dafydd, "it seems you have forgotten I am one of your passengers. I am a bowman, look you, a bowman of Wales. As such I can outshoot, for distance and for proper aim, any crossbowman that puts stock to shoulder. If you will but find me a place in which I am at least partly protected, with a clear view of the other ship, I will promise you that many if not all of their crossbowmen will not get within twenty ship-lengths of our craft."
Edouard turned to stare at him. Dafydd smiled down to him, comfortingly.
"By all the saints!" said Edouard. "You are one of those devil English archers who have wrought such havoc among the French armies in near times!"
The comforting smile vanished from Dafydd's lips.
"Wales, 'of Wales,' I said, Master shipman!" His voice was not raised, but had a whiplash in it that his friends had never heard before. "Did I not say 'of Wales' clearly enough for you to hear?"
"Why…" Edouard literally stammered, "is it not almost the same thing? I meant—"
"Of Wales," said Dafydd, still softly but implacably. "I am a Welsh archer, one of that breed who were putting arrows where they were aimed while those of Britain still fumbled with string and sticks in their attempts to shoot a short bow. Of Wales! I am a master of my trade and a greater master at it than you are at yours, shipman. Of Wales!"
Dafydd was tall already, but now he seemed to tower over all of them; and, most of all, over Edouard, who was short by comparison even with Giles and Brian, though broad-shouldered and able-looking.
"Of Wales," agreed Edouard meekly. "I crave your pardon, Master bowman. If what you say is true, then indeed there is hope this day for all of us. But it is a slim hope, even at best; for we have no fighting castle on either bow or stern from which you can loose your bolts. Yet, we will do our best to build you some sort of shelter in the time that remains before we are caught by Bloody Boots."
He turned to Jim and the other two knights.
"As for you, messires," he said, "I will suggest that you do your armoring and whatsoever else is involved down in the forecastle out of sight. There is no need to let them know our strength before they are upon us."
"Stay!" said Sir Brian, frowning. "It is not done that belted knights should shelter behind a bowman; even such a bowman as Dafydd. We'll do our changing on deck."
Edouard looked savage.
"Do you that, sir knight," he said, "and we throw away half the advantage there is to be gained by you, your armor and your skill with weapons."
"Nonetheless—" Brian was beginning; when Jim decided that he had better lose no time in interfering.
"Brian, Giles," he interrupted, "perhaps we should have a private word by ourselves; and perhaps the forecastle is not a bad place to do it. For one thing, there is a matter with Secoh. Meanwhile, you, Master shipman, must think of some way of hiding our horses from the sight of the other ship. Perhaps you have odds and ends you can pile around them. So that if they do not neigh, they will not be sus
pected until the other ship is so close it will make no difference."
It was a little, thought Jim to himself in the wake of his own words, rather like the lion tamer's trick of presenting a lion with the four legs of a chair. Whether it was true or not he did not know; but he had been told that the reason the chair legs baffled the lion was because they created a conundrum in the animal mind. The question was which one of the four legs menacing him should be batted down first; and while he hesitated, the tendency to flee rather than fight—or at least, back up, was likely to take control of him.
Jim himself had just now confronted Brian and the others around him, not with merely one but three things to be done; and while they sorted out their objections to find the one with which they should argue, he was already walking toward the entrance of the forecastle, all but herding the other two knights and Secoh before him.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Getting Secoh down the stairs proved to be the largest problem. Even with his wings folded, the doorway was a very tight fit for him; and although, being a dragon, he was perfectly at home in darkness and enclosed spaces, the fact that he had to head down the stairs to get to it in this case caused him to hesitate.
However, Secoh had long since given up any self-acknowledgment that he could be frightened by anything. So, even though it was somewhat gingerly, he wedged himself through the doorway and made his way down the steps.
No more was said by Brian or Giles until they were all in the forecastle; but with all of them there, including Secoh, the space which might have held as many as six or eight men was definitely crowded—particularly for three men who would be trying to get into armor and helping each other in the process. It was apparent to all of them.
"Would you like to turn me back into a… human?" asked Secoh of Jim.
Jim felt a twinge of emotion. He knew now how little Secoh had liked losing his dragon form for a human one.
"No, Secoh," he said, "I'm going to send you for help. All of you wait a moment, would you please? I want to ask our shipmaster something more. I'll be right back."
He turned to the ladder leading back up to the deck.
"James?" said Brian. "You called us aside to have a privy word with us; and now instead of that you are off to talk to the shipmaster. This is strange behavior, indeed. I should think—"
"Bear with me, please, Brian," said Jim. "It's only a word I want. I'll just go to the top of the ladder and call him. Then I'll be right back down. The rest of you can listen if you like."
Without waiting for any agreement from Brian—and in fact, he got none—Jim went on up the ladder and stuck his head out the opening to the forecastle with its sliding door, which could be closed to keep out sea water that came aboard, but which now was slid completely back to let some much-needed fresh air into the rather smelly space below.
"Shipmaster!" Jim called. "Would you come here a minute? It's important!"
With his head out of the forecastle he was able to hear a sort of grumble among the mixture of voices up toward the front of the boat beyond the forecastle and out of his sight. Then, after a moment the sound of footsteps thumped overhead and Edouard jumped lightly down opposite the forecastle door, crouching over to look at Jim.
"What is it, sir knight?" he said. "If we are to build a protection for the bowman, every moment counts—"
"I know that. And I want Dafydd protected as much as anyone else—possibly more," said Jim. "But I've got a quick question for you. You're carrying no cargo, are you?"
"Hmm," Edouard looked at him shrewdly for a moment, "you know something of the sea, messire. No, we have no cargo. How could we when we had to take off so swiftly with you?"
"That means we're riding high in the water, doesn't it?" said Jim. "And our riding high in the water has got to be visible to this Bloody Boots or whoever he is? By the way, why is he called Bloody Boots?"
"He's supposed to pour the blood of captives into his boots before he boards another ship, so that it will leak out of the boots and leave his bloody footprints everywhere," said Edouard. "My own thought is that it is probably cattle or sheep blood that he uses to begin with, at least; though I would not put it past him to slit the throat of a captive just to get blood for his boots. No, you're right. We have no cargo. I have been puzzled myself why he should choose us to attack, when there must be richer-looking ships around that would be equally easy prey."
"And you came up with no answer?" asked Jim.
"No answer, messire. You are correct," said Edouard.
"Ah. Thank you," said Jim. "That's all, then. I was simply wondering about that myself. You can go back to whatever you were doing now and we'll get busy dressing."
"An idle question to use up such good time!" grumbled Edouard, even as he was getting to his feet. He leaped upward the short distance to the upper deck that was also roof to the forecastle; and they heard the thump of his sea boots moving toward the prow.
Jim returned down the ladder.
"What is this, then, James?" asked Brian, when Jim once more faced them on the forecastle floor. "What matters it if our ship has cargo or no cargo, or why this Scotch pirate chooses to attack us?"
"I just wanted to confirm a suspicion that magic's involved in this," said Jim. "I still don't have solid proof; but as far as I'm concerned, I'm now sure. Secoh?"
"Yes m'Lord," offered Secoh once more. "As I said, m'Lord, if you'd really like to change me back into a george to give you more room here—"
"Not at all, Secoh," said Jim. "In fact, I've got a real need for you to remain a dragon. I want to send you on a mission for help."
"Help?" said Brian and Giles in the same voice. Secoh merely stared at him with his round, dark dragon eyes.
"Yes," said Jim. "Didn't it strike the two of you those French royal men-at-arms caught up with us very quickly? As if they knew where to look for us."
"It is true," said Giles slowly. "They did come directly to the wharves without wasting any time elsewhere, plainly. On the other hand, would they not have taken for granted the fact that we would try to get back to England?"
"That'd certainly have been a possibility in the mind of the King and Ecotti," said Jim, "but to send them on horseback, as if there was no time to lose, directly to that destination alone, made it almost too good a guess. I suspect magic was involved in their knowing where to find us."
"But you said," Giles protested, "Ecotti's was a different kind of magic than yours. If you couldn't find out from the King what you wanted to find out, how could he find out something like where we were headed?"
"That's exactly a question to which I can think of only one answer," said Jim. "I'm beginning to believe that one of them, either the King or Ecotti, is directly in contact with the greater and stronger magical mind who's behind all this, but doesn't know it, himself. It could be that even as we were talking to the King and Ecotti, this greater magical mind was learning all about what we were doing. If it was Ecotti that the hidden magician was in contact with, then it could be that the minute we had left, he had Ecotti discover from the King all that the King had told me."
"And if it was King Jean?" asked Brian.
There was skepticism in his voice. Jean was an anointed King; as such, he should not be capable of being part of any magical agreement.
"I don't think it was the King," said Jim. "Ecotti's more likely."
"Then?" asked Giles.
"Well," said Jim, "I don't believe Ecotti could use the type of magic I used to find what happened when they were both under hypnosis. Also, they'd both certainly have had to stay under the spell until they had counted numbers I gave them. But after that, Ecotti, or the Mastermind using magic through Ecotti, could have used his powers to find out exactly what went on while we were there."
"M'Lord," said Secoh, somewhat bashfully, "I don't understand."
"If I'm right," said Jim, "the Mastermind could guess we were headed for the seashore and a ship for England; and made sure the King ordered the me
n-at-arms after us without delay."
"But even if this is all true," said Brian, "what has it to do with sending off Secoh for help—and what kind of help can he bring us in time, in any case?"
"Well," said Jim, "if magic was used in what I said, it may have been used in another way. I haven't told you, but the Mastermind—that unknown magician behind Ecotti and the sea serpents—may have somehow gotten information to Bloody Boots that we've now got a greater fortune in jewels with us than any human is likely to see in his lifetime. That explains his choosing us as a ship to attack. Forgive me if I cannot tell you why we have these jewels."
"You need no forgiveness from us, James," said Brian. "But you do think Bloody Boots may know this?"
"I have to consider it a real possibility, Brian," said Jim.
"And how, then," said the other knight, "can Secoh help us? Surely within an hour, or a little more, that other ship will be alongside, for all Dafydd's arrows and his skill as a bowman."
"We're very close to the south shore of England," said Jim, "Malencontri and Cliffside are only about thirty miles from here; and a dragon can fly very swiftly, particularly with the wind behind him—and we seem to have an onshore wind. With this type of day I would expect onshore winds at a higher altitude too."
He stopped talking to Brian and turned to Secoh.
"Secoh," he said, "I want you to do two things. First, go back up on deck and fly away from this ship, keeping low above the waves and keeping this ship between you and the other ship of Bloody Boots. By the time our vessel can hide you no longer, you should be distant enough not to attract the pirates' attention. As soon as you think so, immediately climb to some distance in the air, so that you seem only a speck to those of us here on the sea's surface. You can do that?"
"Oh, certainly, m'Lord," said Secoh, "but how will this help?"
"Once aloft, you will turn and head toward the shore of England and Malencontri. If Carolinus is there, tell him what we've learned. The French invade in five days' time if the weather holds. If he isn't there, don't waste time hunting for him."