“The pirates aren’t idiots,” Jan said. “They’ll move us out of here before then.”
Her eyes were wide in the gloom. Without fear, she clung tightly to a huge iron link as the ship plummeted downward like a falling stone, then pointed its bow up and soared toward the sky. The heavy chains, each wound once about its winch drum, swayed only a little. When next she spoke, Jan made sure to whisper so that the little boy below would not hear. “Niki, do you think they’re going to kill us?”
“Not if Mother pays the ransom.”
“What about Father?”
Niki turned his face away. His sister was a brave and sensible creature and he usually confided in her completely; but now he could not bear to tell her what he suspected was the truth about the King’s kidnapping. Without Antar on the throne, Raktum might well think it could attack its wealthy southern neighbor with impunity, seeking to conquer it outright rather than simply raiding its ships on the high seas. Niki had often heard his father and mother speak of the danger posed by the ambitious Pirate Queen.
But now, in answer to Jan, he could only say: “The pirates will certainly want a ransom for Father, too. They will probably ask a shipful of platinum and diamonds for him in addition to Mother’s talisman—but only a few coffers of gold for us.”
Jan grinned. “Maybe only a chamber pot of silver for Tolo.”
Below, the younger prince uttered a squeal. “I hear something again, but it’s not ship-varts! Someone is coming. Oh, come down quickly!”
Niki and Jan began to slide, tearing their hands and clothing on the rough metal in their hurry. They had barely tumbled off the chain piles and onto the thin sleeping-pallets when a succession of thuds announced the unbarring of the chain-locker door. It opened. Outside was a dark hold, a place cluttered with odds and ends of rope, lumber, metal, worn canvas, and barrels of tar. A man stood there, holding a lantern high in one hand and a bared short-sword in the other. He was not one of the scowling pirate-knights who had imprisoned them, but another who had the look of a seaman.
“Stand back,” he ordered Prince Nikalon, who had sprung up and rushed forward. “Away from the door, you whelp.” He thrust the lantern in and looked about with an expression of repugnance. “A sorry place this is to stow three youngsters, even if they are Labornoki trash.”
“Laboruwendian trash,” said Niki coolly. “Who are you and what do you want?”
“I’m Boblen the Quartermaster, and I’ve brought you a visitor.” He stepped back outside, still holding the lantern high, and a shorter figure dressed all in black materialized out of the gloomy hold and stepped into the chain-locker.
“The Goblin Kinglet!” shrieked Tolo. “He’s come to torture us!”
Jan gave her little brother a swift punch in the side.
The youthful King Ledavardis had flushed at Tolo’s thoughtless insult, but he said nothing, only looked at the three, one after the other, as though they were creatures the like of which he had never encountered before.
“Well, you’ve seen them, young Sire,” the Quartermaster said gruffly. “Now come away before someone discovers us. You’ll only rate a royal scolding and bed without supper if the Queen Regent finds out you’ve been down here—but she’ll likely have my liver chopped up for fish-food.”
“Good!” cried Tolo. “I hope she slays both of you!” And he stuck his tongue out.
“Be silent,” Niki ordered. And to Ledavardis: “My brother is an uncivilized infant and I apologize on his behalf for his rudeness. However, he is not used to being treated like some animal in the royal zoo. Neither are my sister and I. Or is this type of accommodation the usual thing for royal passengers on the ships of Raktum?”
“No, it is not,” said Ledavardis, speaking low. Hesitantly, he held out a sack to Princess Janeel. “Boblen told me you are to be fed only bread and water now. I am sorry. Here is a roasted waterfowl and some nut-pastries I was able to find.”
Jan took the sack without speaking.
Niki said: “Thank you, King.”
“Well,” Ledavardis muttered, turning away. “I’d better go now.”
“One thing,” Niki said. “Can you tell us of our father, King Antar? Is—is he alive?”
“Yes. I have not seen him, but I know they have him chained with the galley slaves.”
“We had heard that from Lady Sharice.”
“The King is certainly not forced to row,” Ledavardis hastened to say. “The sweeps are not manned in such a high wind.”
“Will we all be held for ransom in Raktum?” Niki asked.
“I do not know. First we must sail south to the Windlorn Isles on some mysterious errand of the sorcerer’s.”
“South!” cried Niki.
“Come away and say no more!” said the Quartermaster from out in the hold. “What if that lothok-spawn of a Black Voice should find us and report us to the sorcerer?”
“Be silent, Boblen. Nothing is going to happen to us.” And the boy-King continued to brush aside the man’s urgings, and began to ask many questions about the life the three captives led back home in Laboruwenda. He wanted to know how the courtiers treated them, and if they were allowed to leave the palace and travel about their country, and how they were tutored, and if they had friends of their own ages, and whether they ever envied children who were not royal.
Both Nikalon and Janeel quickly lost their suspicion of Ledavardis, and treated him with civility and even sympathy, not only answering his questions but also asking many of their own. But little Tolivar could not overcome his revulsion over the Raktumian youth’s ungainly appearance, and would not speak to him, except once to ask him if he liked being a Pirate King.
Ledavardis did not seem to notice the lad’s hostility. He replied that he had been happy enough while his fierce father, King Ledamot, lived. The Raktumian monarch made his pirate fleet the scourge of the Northern Sea, and he was ruthless to any person who threatened him. He had loved his son dearly and had dealt savagely with any Raktumian nobles who dared to hint that Ledavardis might be unfit to succeed to the throne.
But then King Ledamot died untimely in a shipwreck, and Queen Mother Ganondri proved quickly that she would brook no rival as regent for her grandson. Several important fleet-captains who opposed her died of mysterious illnesses, Ledavardis said, and others she vanquished openly through clever political ploys, depriving them of their fortunes as well as their power. The boy-King’s mother, Queen Mashriya, was reduced to a pathetic invalid who never left her bed.
Ledavardis was matter-of-fact as he spoke of the way his own life changed for the worse during the seven years of his grandmother’s regency. Even though the boy-King tried to make light of his misfortunes, it was evident that he was lonely and despised at the Raktumian court. Only when he was allowed to go to sea did he find some happiness with several of the older pirate captains, who had escaped the Queen Regent’s purge and were still his friends. At sea his twisted body had grown strong, and he felt he was a true king and not a helpless child.
When Ledavardis finally left the chain-locker, Niki and Jan admitted to each other that they were sorry to have thought him a goblin. But young Tolo mimicked the hunchback’s odd walk, and pulled faces to make fun of his ugliness, and called him a crybaby and a coward and no true pirate at all.
Jan opened the bag of food. “Who cares about that? It was kind of him to bring this to us.”
“It’s probably poison,” said Tolo, making a face. “I don’t trust that rotten Goblin Kinglet!”
Niki lifted out the small fowl, unwrapped it from its napkin, and sniffed. “Nay, it seems wholesome enough.” He spread the napkin like a tablecloth on the dirty deck and set out the food upon it. “It was strange that Ledavardis should visit us, though, and even stranger that he should open his heart to us.” He looked up at his sister, who still stood holding the empty sack. “What do you think, Jan?”
“I—I think that the King of Raktum is a very unhappy person,” she said. “More t
han that, I cannot say.”
Niki broke apart the fowl and shared it out, and they all three began to eat.
9
Queen Anigel was in her cabin, alone with her grief and misgivings. The captain of the Laboruwendian flagship, as well as Owanon and Ellinis and Lampiar and Penapat and the other high officers of the court, had prevailed upon her not to conduct her talismanic surveys out on the deck even though she felt closer to her loved ones under the open sky. There was too much danger of a heavy sea sweeping her overboard while she was in her trance.
For four days now she had eaten almost nothing and slept only fitfully, letting only Immu attend her. Almost all of her time was taken up with watching over her lost children and husband through her magical coronet, reassuring herself that no new hurt was done to them. On occasion she would also descry the sorcerer Portolanus; but she had failed to view his crucial meetings with the Queen Regent and Admiral Jorot, and so she knew nothing of Portolanus’s plan to murder the captives once the ransom had been obtained.
Anigel did see King Ledavardis’s first visit to her children, and she was surprised and touched by the young man’s unexpected kindness. She also saw him come again, this time alone, on the fourth day of the voyage, bringing more food. He stayed over an hour, questioning Niki and Jan about the way they had been lured unsuspecting from the coronation ball, and asking them what they thought of Portolanus. Ledavardis was a rather naïve boy, for all that he was sixteen years old. It was evident to Anigel that he was very dubious about his grandmother’s Tuzameni ally, and frightened of what the future might hold for him.
Ledavardis also made casual mention of the way that the sorcerer had stunned the Queen Regent’s guards and physician with his magical rod, later restoring them by touching them again with the same instrument. Anigel could not contain her excitement as she listened to this, for it now seemed certain to her that the rod had also been used upon her husband, Antar. He was not in a death-coma after all—as she had feared when she saw that he did not wake for days—but was only under some enchantment that could be lifted at the sorcerer’s will.
King Ledavardis seemed eager to talk to other young people of his own rank. The life of a royal child was unnatural even under the best of circumstances, but this boy with his twisted spine and repellent features was particularly unlucky.
Anigel was sadly vexed at the way little Tolivar continued to mock Ledavardis and call him the Goblin Kinglet. But Tolo was only a baby after all, and puny and unsure of himself as well. Although Tolo had never suffered the cruel rejection the Raktumian boy had, Anigel knew that he envied his strong, handsome elder brother. Despising Ledavardis made Tolo feel better about his own imperfections.
When I have little Tolo back, the Queen said to herself, I must keep him with me more, and tell him I love him and reassure him and build his confidence. And I will urge Antar to do so as well—
Antar …
Love and anxiety for her husband put all thought of Prince Tolivar out of her mind. She bade the talisman depict the King, and saw that he lay still sleeping on a plank bed in the foul quarters of the galley slaves. As always, she prayed for his welfare and safe return. Now that she was certain that he was not in a mortal stupor, she felt thankful that he was unaware of his own desperate situation and that of their children. Antar was a proud man and impetuous, and he would be tortured by rage and humiliation if he were conscious. Who could say what the pirates might do to him if he antagonized them or tried to escape?
Or if she refused to pay his ransom.
What will I do, she asked herself, if Portolanus threatens Antar with some terrible hurt, or even death?
She had mulled over the awful possibility many times before, worrying the thought as one touches a decayed tooth, knowing that there will be pain, yet unable to let it be. Tears came, even as she strove to forbid them, and she faced again the dilemma that had assailed her from the first moment she had read the two words spelling out the price of his freedom:
Your talisman.
Could she remain steadfast, as she had told Haramis she would, if the price of retaining the Three-Headed Monster was Antar’s tortured screams, his ignominious dying? If she gave in to Portolanus, she was a false queen, laying her country open to conquest by black magic. But if Antar were taken from her, she knew she would die herself, and the devil take Laboruwenda.
For a long time she only studied her husband’s face and gave way to sorrow. Then the vision of Antar dimmed, although she fought to hold it clear, and she heard the impatient voice of Haramis in her mind:
“Ani! Listen to me! Look behind your flotilla and rejoice!”
She seized her leather sea-cloak and dashed outside at once, not even bothering to respond to her sister.
The rain had stopped but a high wind still roared from the north. The mountainous swells coming up behind them looked as though they would surely curl over and smash the four ships down to the bottom of the sea. But somehow the huge waves never broke, and the ships rode up and down their dizzying slopes like wheeled carts rolling backward over hills. Earlier, the peculiar motion had nauseated her. Now she was almost used to it, and she clung firmly to the quarterdeck rail and commanded her talisman to give her a long view of the sea behind the Laboruwendian ships.
The Sight revealed another vessel overtaking them.
Breathless, she ordered the talisman to show the other ship more closely. It was much smaller than her bireme flagship, with two masts slanted back at a saucy angle, and having only four very small sails set. It streaked through the heaving sea like an arrow shot from a crossbow and was already nearly abeam of the last Laboruwendian vessel. Certain of the tiny figures working on deck had a strange form, and when she looked even closer, she saw that these were Wyvilo aborigines. Among the humans was a slender woman with flying auburn hair, who wore the image of an Eyed Trefoil upon her jerkin.
“Kadi!” the Queen cried. “You’ve come! Oh, thanks be to the Lords of the Air!”
The vision of Kadiya disappeared, and Anigel’s mind’s eye saw the face of her other sister, Haramis, wrapped in a fur-edged hood and silhouetted against a stormy sky.
“Listen to me, Ani! Now you and Kadiya must work closely together. Both your ships and those of the enemy have nearly reached the latitude of Council Isle. At around midday tomorrow, the pirate trireme will turn westward into the Windlorns to reach the place where Kadi’s talisman was lost. Portolanus is so far ahead of you that I fear your flagship can never catch up. You will have to go onto Kadi’s smaller boat. It is very swift and it will likely overtake the Raktumian before the strong winds fall away among the islands.”
“But in the calms,” Anigel protested, “the pirate trireme will be able to speed along so much faster with its oars—”
“Most of Queen Ganondri’s galley slaves are deathly seasick. The corsairs of Raktum mostly ply the coastal waters, and the Northern Sea is sheltered by the Peninsula from the worst ravages of the monsoons. I suspect the Queen’s men have never encountered anything like this magical storm of Portolanus.”
“Our brave Captain Velinikar says that he has never seen its like. In spite of the tremendous waves, the wind maintains itself on the fine line between propelling the ships at high speed and blowing the masts and sails away.”
“Never mind that,” Haramis said impatiently. “The important thing is that the oarsmen on the Raktumian trireme will not instantly recover from their malaise. It will take some time before they are well enough to pull stoutly. Meanwhile, you and Kadiya in the smaller ship can keep ahead of them. In the light and erratic winds that prevail among the Windlorns, you will have the advantage—for a time.”
“Then it is not certain that Kadi and I will reach her talisman first?”
“No,” said Haramis. “But you must beseech your own talisman to help you, besides praying hard to the Lords of the Air to speed your ship along.”
Anigel flung up her hands in exasperation. “I cannot command my talis
man the way you command yours! Sometimes the thing obeys me in ways other than the Sight, but most often it does not. I am no Archimage!”
Haramis sighed. “I know that the talismans’ action remains mostly a mystery to you and Kadi. My own Three-Winged Circle is only slightly more cooperative. But I am on a journey now that may solve this problem for us—”
“Hara, you must tell me what you are up to! I have spied you out flying over the high mountains on a lammergeier—”
“Little Sister, I can accomplish nothing useful in time to help you retrieve Kadi’s talisman. Forget me. Use all your wits and all your strength to bring up the Three-Lobed Burning Eye from the depths. Every hour you delay, the world falls further out of balance. Farewell now, and may God and the Lords of the Air defend you from Portolanus.”
The Laboruwendian flagship hove to and tried to launch a longboat that would carry Anigel to the Lyath. But the seas were so rough and the wind so strong that the craft was tumbled over before it could even be released completely from the lines on the boat booms. It foundered almost at once, and one of the crew who had volunteered to man it was lost.
“This way is hopeless, Madam,” Captain Velinikar told Anigel, when the surviving seamen had been rescued. Lyath lay a quarter of a league away from the flagship, half the time invisible behind the colossal swells. Anigel had bespoken her intentions to Jagun, and he had relayed the news to Kadiya and Captain Ly Woonly.
“Then we must find another way for me to transfer to Kadiya’s ship,” Anigel retorted. She had dressed in a seaman’s oilskins, and wore her talisman pinned immovably to blond braids wound about her head.
The Labornoki captain shook his head. “Madam, I do not know one.”
“Then let us ask Jagun to consult the skipper of the Lyath,” Anigel said. She closed her eyes, using the talisman again, and when she reopened them a few minutes later, she said: “The Okamisi captain suggests a breeches buoy—whatever that might be.”
The other seamen standing about uttered exclamations of horrified dissent. Velinikar himself cursed, then made clumsy apology to his Queen. “Madam, I have heard of such a contrivance, but it is madness to even suggest that you might use it.”