Storms of Victory (Witch World: The Turning)

  The falcon had reported life on board. I could see no one on the deck—in fact that was in a state of disorder. Lines trailed from where lifeboats must have once been hung.

  Delicately I probed, seeking that life—was there someone below injured by the sea, left behind when the crew had taken to those missing boats?

  Life—yes! But at the same second I caught that small glow of energy I also knew that it was not human. Nor was it of the sea, or air. Rather an animal and one that had long associated with the human. It hungered and now it hunted, tracing out a trail of another creature smaller, wilder, a traditional prey—or foe. I strove to sense that other spark also and then jerked away my probe from a meeting with sheer savagery. There were more than one of these—there was a hunger in them also, avid, and they waited for that which hunted, thinking (though their way of thought was so alien that I could barely touch it) to make the hunter food for their own empty stomachs.

  I made myself pull aside from a coming battle, striving to rise from the ship itself, mark points of reference around it so that we could come at it more easily.

  “An island schooner—” Lord Simon's voice brought me out of the seeking and I knew that once again we had linked and they had shared my picturing of that ship.

  “You know this then?” The councilor who wished us forth from Varn was quick to catch on that.

  “I have seen its like—elsewhere.”

  “This then is a part of that which you have been seeking?” the cowled one asked swiftly. “You will be about your business with it.” That latter was no question, rather a statement which was almost an order.

  When we reported to Captain Sigmun the finding of the derelict he was instantly alert to what might be a promise for all of us. By main force of will he was able to get a fishing boat which had not been utterly smashed hauled away from the city tier where the waves had deposited in and into the water. It was still a damaged craft and there must be constant bailing to keep it afloat. Nor would it hold a large party. Thus we needs must split our forces.

  Most of the Falconers who were left would march with Lord Simon, the Lady Jaelithe, and some dozen of the remaining Sulcar crew, from the inner valley down the newly opened river which now had a gate into the sea. From what we learned of the falcon's report the ship was in an almost landlocked, smaller bay now very near where river met the ocean.

  Kemoc, Orsya, and I would go in the very crowded fishing boat fighting a way along the coast towards that same spot. We did not leave at once—the fishing craft must have all the repairs our Sulcar seamen could give her. While there was also a heed for supplies.

  Twenty of the Sulcars under the mate Simot of the Wave Skimmer must stay behind to nurse hurts, broken bones, head injuries, slashes left by flying glass. To my surprise those same city rulers who wanted us forth did not object to us leaving our injured behind. I believe that they thought getting rid of the five of us who had given evidence of Power was the imperative purpose now.

  There had been during the night two more aftershocks, but neither did more harm than shake more broken masonry from precarious perches here and there. We had done our best to help the townspeople while Sigmun saw to the preparation of the boat, and I think that our services did not go unnoticed. Yet there was plainly a growing feeling among all those of Yarn they would be glad to see the last of us.

  That fall of ash which had been so choking had been laid by a steady rain which heightened at intervals into a drenching downpour. But that washed away the ash, except for muddy residue in corners, and, having known the stiffling attack of the dry particles, we were pleased enough even though we went soaked.

  That night we slept in the hall of the council chamber and not alone for many of the Vars shared our quarters. Tradition and custom had been banished by the catastrophe and their women came with them out of concealment in the inner chambers, many of which no longer existed.

  It was on the morning of the third day after the disaster that we left. Those to go overland included the majority of the Falconers, only two remaining with us, their falcons ready to act as scout. It seemed to me that far too many were crowded into the boat Sigmun had salvaged. He himself had taken over the command of our party as if it were his right, and none of us disputed that with him. We all, except Orsya, were ready to take our turn at the oars which propelled us out of the bay; two of the crew were stationed on either side of the bow to fend off masses of floating debris.

  Within the bay it was relatively calm but once we were out in the open sea we found that the waves had to be constantly fought if we would keep on course. Luckily the owner of our boat had managed to save his single sail by furling it well before the quake wave struck and, with that raised to a brisk wind, the rowers were released for a space.

  There was a stench of rottenness which the wind brought and we saw large sections of the ocean surface covered with floating isles of dead fish turned belly up. That some of the inhabitants of the depths had survived we had proof. For there were sudden whirls in those masses of the dead and gaps left where the already rotting fish had been dragged under.

  I watched these closely. Very much in my mind was the memory of Scalgah. If that monster had indeed followed us south would this vast meal be to its taste, or would it turn its attention to the boat? When even the Far Rover had been shaken by the battering of that huge body we in this cockshell would stand very little chance. Still I hesitated to probe, lest by doing so I would attract the very danger I hope we might avoid.

  The cliff line, as raw and sharp as ever, lay to the east as we sailed south. I believed that I could detect scars along the sides where more of that natural wall had been battered and lost to the sea. The clouds of sullen rain hid much except the general outline.

  We bailed with a will, throwing overboard as swiftly as we could both the fresh water from the sky and the salt from the sea coming through cracks even the Sulcars could not caulk. There was a chill wind, and that, blowing against our bodies through well-soaked clothing, brought us shivering, choking and trying to wipe rain and spray from our eyes.

  With the arch of a dull grey sky over us we could not tell the time. We had speculated that the sea party might well reach the point of rendezvous before the company using the river as their guide could arrive. Twice we were delayed by having to make farther into the open sea to avoid fangs of reefs spilling out from the land. On one of these was evidence that some must be newborn for there lay sodden and dead under the spill of wave and rain the body of one of the valley herd animals.

  The Falconers who had come with us watched the cliff crowns narrowly. It had been the bird of one that had found that the river had made itself a new bed. Now he brought his feathered comrade from beneath the edge of his cloak where he had carefully sheltered it and, having adjusted the device strapped to one of its slender legs, he tossed it aloft with a hunter's gesture. The bird circled the boat once and then soared up and on, toward the cliffs. Once more we had to edge into the sea to escape a water-washed ridge, and then took to oars to send our craft east again.

  Here the water was murky. I saw a tangled mass, which could have been a large bush dug from a bank, wallow by. The water actually stained across the sea. While that outward-flowing current made it difficult to keep on course. Then I heard Sigmun shout and saw him pound the shoulder of the man beside him.

  Out of the gloom rose the bare masts of a ship. The vessel swung a little back and forth as if it was anchored none too skillfully. There was no mistaking it—this was the ship of my farsighting.

  Sigmun headed our craft straight for it. About us the rest of the Sulcar crew, except those busied with the progress of our own boat, were eagerly talking and pointing. Though now I could see a stretch of broken rail, and the main mast was certainly shorter than it should be, this vessel had not been too hardly used by the storm which had brought it here.

  With the practice of their craft, at which, admittedly, none others in this world could do more than faintly e
qual, the crew brought us alongside the stranger and I saw one of the crew women leap up and make a line fast to the deck, holding us beside the greater vessel. That done she turned around to look over the prize.

  A moment later she cried out, and kicked furiously as something near the size of her own foot dashed toward her.

  10

  Both the two who had joined her, a man and a woman whose width of shoulders well matched his, had their long belt knives out even as their feet thudded solidly on decking. I saw more of the small creatures darting out from what were places of concealment, as if they were sentient enough to set ambushes for the first comer. They were certainly alive, and, like that monster of the sea, what they projected now was ravenous hunger.

  The nearest Falconer dropped his cloak in the boat to free his arms and then leapt on the swing of our craft to climb into what was plainly a battle. It did not take the rest of us long to join him.

  Those things which leaped to draw red, bleeding scores across the bare skin were furred, nothing from out of the sea. The long tails trailing on the deck were naked of any hair and the open mouths showed teeth ready for attack. There was a shrill squealing of a battle cry from them.

  Knives and the Falconers’ swords bit down into that frenzied pack, hacking—hurling mangled bodies back into the mass of attackers. Those injured or dead straightway became the center of balls of their loathsome kind feeding both on the dead and the dying.

  We cleared the deck, sweeping the last of the wicked things into the sea, only at the cost of ragged bites and wounds which Orsya insisted must be treated at once with the supplies she had with her, for such creatures might well have carried poison in their fangs. Where the fallen had been the victims of their own fellows there were only now scattered bones.

  I probed for life as I think that Kemoc was also doing. There was nothing more which had that avid hunger to mark it for us. However, there was still life on board. I swung around to set hand on the mast near me as I sent out a mind call, putting into it all the reassurance I could project.

  There was a sound from overhead, almost a wail. From the rolled canvas of a sail a small body emerged. It was twice the size of the creatures we had slain, but I knew that that would not have saved it had that ravening force caught it. This was the hunter I had earlier detected.

  It swung around and began to descend the mast, sinking what I thought were good and sharp claws in the wood as it edged its way down. We had made a circle about its refuge, eager to see the nature of this other seafarer.

  Once I had seen a show cat of the upper mountains, a thing of sinuous grace and wild beauty. This newcomer was perhaps a third of that as to size and I recognized it as one of those animals known in High Hallack and Arvon, an animal that, in the old days, had, held a position of esteem with those of the talent.

  In color this one was black as the eye paint worn by the town women of the Karsten ports. Though, when it jumped from its climb hold at last to land on the deck, one could see a triangular patch of pure white on its upper chest. For a long moment it eyed our company until it came to trade gazes with me. Then it uttered a small cry into which it was easy to read a demand for help. As the famished horde we had cleared from the deck it hungered.

  I went down on one knee upon the bloodied decking and held out my hand. Slowly the cat edged forward far enough to sniff at my fingers. How it had come aboard this strange ship and what purpose it had here I could not guess.

  Opening the larger pouch at my belt I pulled out a length of dried fish which served those of Varn as traveling rations. This I broke into small pieces, strewing them between me and the cat. It set to eating at once. Apparently it found no harm in us and was willing to let down its guard.

  Captain Sigmun paid little attention to the cat; he was already at the way which led to the cabins and space below. While the Falconers, bared swords in hand, and two of the crew were quick to follow him. I broke up a second fish stick and was content to remain where I was.

  The rain curtain had lifted. There was still a misty feel to the air but we could see the cliffs which here extended into the sea offering some protection to the derelict—and also mark that brown ribbon of current which betrayed the issuing of the inland river into the sea.

  Orsya knelt beside me to watch the cat. “This is one such,” she said slowly, “as the Old Ones knew—truly a cat. Only it is smaller. Lord Simon said that such were also known in his world.”

  It mouthed the last scrap of fish, even drawing tongue across the board where that had lain, and now if sat licking one paw and using that to wipe chin and lips, plainly washing after eating. This was the first time I had seen one of its kind before, and it fascinated me. Having completed its washing it yawned, to show an impressive set of teeth and four fangs two above and two below well set to tear. Its eyes were yellow, almost the shade of gold. With these unblinking it continued to stare at the two of us as if it now awaited any question we could care to ask.

  I tried mind send. There was no pull of hunger to be read now, mainly the cat was curious. But the band level of its thoughts was far higher than that I was used to and it was hard for me to make contact. Tentatively I tried a question:

  “Who are you?”

  At first I was favored only with another long stare. Then there grew in my mind hazy picture of the beast engaged in combat, tooth-and-claw battle, with another creature I did not know—not even distinguished clearly.

  “Warrior?” I guessed

  The battle scene did not fade.

  “Fighter? Killer?”

  “Black battler?” Orsya offered in turn. “Mighty killer?”

  The cat's jaws opened to give forth a hissing sound. It was plain it did not consider us intelligent enough to reply properly—there was certainly about its whole body now an aura of contempt. The picture vanished and instead there built up a second scene in which our black find stood tall and several of its own kind crouched low about it, plainly in awe and respect.

  “Lord?” I asked.

  However, it was Orsya who found the proper word, mainly because, I later discovered, there were nonhuman allies in Escore and each of these species had a leader who attended councils from time to time. “Chief?”

  The cat uttered another sound to answer that, a rumbling, throaty noise. It took a step or two forward until it could bump its head against the hand she also held out. Orsya dared to touch the fingers on her other to its head, rubbing the sleek fur behind and between its alert ears.

  “Chief!” I echoed, this time aloud. Now it came to me for the same attention Orsya had given it.

  We were still in the process of getting our communication clear and straight when those who had gone to explore the ship returned. The cabins showed signs of recent occupancy even as had those in the strange vessel brought into Gorm.

  Kemoc had a roll of charts under one arm and Sigmun and his crew were already inspecting the stowage of the sails. Unlike that other ship, however, ropes over the side told of the embarking of the lifeboats, the ropes, which lowered them trailing into the water.

  Orsya slipped over the side and brought back the information that there was indeed an anchor holding it. Seemingly the ship must have dragged that until it caught between two rocks under the surface, the chain to which that was made fast now went taut or loose depending on the swing of the ship in answer to the waves.

  Our searching brought to light other things. There was food aboard. Some of he containers had been gnawed, open and their contents were long gone to feed that ravening horde which had welcomed us. However, in metal containers were hard biscuits and in glass jars we could see colored contents which might be fruit. There were also cans but the thin slips on their sides had been torn and the metal itself bore the sign of tooth marks. Prying knives opened a few of these and we discovered vegetables and more fruit, once a drink.

  Though we were travel-wise enough not to exhaust this bounty in a single meal, we shared out enough to take the taste of Va
rs fish out of our mouths and mostly enjoyed the novelties.

  There was still no sign of the party who had gone along the river path and we decided to wait them out on the ship rather than seek any possible camping place at the foot of the cliffs Sigmun made sure that lanterns, a pair of them, were set so that any emerging in the river current might see them.

  We made a more detailed examination of the derelict. There was clothing in some of the cabins—oddly fashioned shirts which seemed to be knit as the women of the farms knit winter coverlets. They had blankets but those had been stowed away in a sleek textured material which we learned resisted water and so meant a way of protection against damp. All which was found was carefully examined and put aside for future decisions.

  The charts which had drawn Kemoc were again meaningless to the Sulcars who eagerly studied them. But Kemoc pointed but certain features which he declared, and Sigmun agreed, were like those found on board the ship at Gorm. The cat sat quietly watching our prowling about and annexation of the contents of the cabins. Orsya had settled cross-legged on the deck in the limited light of another lantern, smoothing between her hands a long strip of very soft material which carried a pattern of shells. These had hot been stitched onto the cloth, nor painted on, but were a very part of it.

  Kemoc was watching her, a smile about his lips, when Chief appeared out of the dark into which he had vanished earlier. He settled down beside me, that rumbling mumble to be both heard and felt as I stroked his back. On impulse I tried to contact him. Did he know where the crew had gone? What had sent them off in the small boat, leaving an undamaged and much safer mode of travel behind?

  I thought that perhaps I could not reach him, and, then, though his rumble did not cease, I received again a hazy picture.