“A sail!”
He looked up at Nordis’ cry. The very tip of a mast had just risen up over the horizon.
His tongue ran over cracked lips. Should they attempt to hail her? They needed help, desperately needed it, yet even a strange vessel, one having no connection with Ogin of Ravenfield, might not be safe transport for the fair woman beside him.
The two sailors and the Holdlady herself were no less aware of their possible danger.
Santor gave voice to the fears of all.
“Pirates do occasionally sail these waters, as do those who might not treat kindly with folk in dire trouble, but such are rare, and we cannot afford to forgo the probability of assistance because we dread meeting with them.”
“Let the Lady Una and you, Bird Warrior, since she will have need of your aid, conceal yourselves in the water as we approach the ship. If she proves false, you two, at least, shall still be alive and free.”
They agreed because there seemed no other choice before them, although all realized they would not survive their companions by very long in the event of such misfortune.
The fugitives waited tensely as more of the sail and then the vessel herself hove into view. At the same moment, Tarlach sat erect, relief and joy sweeping through him as Storm Challenger soared high and proud against, the westering sun.
“We can spare ourselves a dunking. She is the Tern!”
21
The mercenary tried to crush the excitement swelling in his heart. The Seakeep ship was still very far away, and their dory was but a minute speck on a rough ocean. They might not be seen at all except by his winged comrade, and with no Falconers aboard to whom he could rightly deliver his intelligence, the war bird might not be able to communicate his discovery to those manning her even though he had somehow managed to draw them in this direction. Santor did say that she was well off her assigned track.
The others were aware of that black possibility as well. The tunic Nordis had taken from the Dion Star's cabin was white, and this he stripped off and began waving violently in the direction of the Tern while the other men rowed as rapidly as they might toward her.”
Whatever their efforts and the falcon's and the prayers burning in their hearts, it seemed for a long while that they would not be noticed, that they would be left to face storm and water alone as they had all these interminable hours.
Just as their hope was plunging to its lowest ebb, however, the larger vessel weared. Not very many minutes passed after that before they were standing on her deck with a crowd of curious, concerned mariners around them.
The Falconer almost savagely silenced the questions being fired at him. Una was beside him, in part leaning on him despite herself, and he could feel the tension in her, the strain of her effort to hold herself erect.
“See to the Holdlady first,” he snapped,’'and to these others. There will be time then to talk.”
Dry clothing, food, and warm drink wrought a near miracle in the four, and soon Tarlach, as military leader of the Cormorant‘s survivors, was recounting the tale of their adventures in close detail.
His audience was quiet when he finished speaking. His description of their discovery of the murdered crew aboard the derelict had sparked angry growls from the Seakeep sailors and even more so the tale of the Cormorant's death and the slaughter of the men left with her,but the story of the fugitives escape and ordeal silenced them, and it was several seconds before any of those who heard it found voice.
“We of Seakeep have blood-work before us and a heavy blood-price to claim,” the Tern’s master said at last, “but that must wait for now. We have not yet seen the end or the worst of last night's storm. I suggest that we run before it and lay our war plans in Seakeep when the Lady Una and the captain have rested.—Is this agreeable to you, my Lady, Bird Warrior?”
The Holdruler nodded.
“Aye, unless the captain feels it wiser to attack Ravenfield or the wrecker crew at once.”
“No, nor have we the strength to do so now even if I so willed.”
He sighed.
“It is better thus. When we do move, I want to be sure of taking that black company quickly.”
His voice became cold, frozen by a hatred so bitter that all those present shuddered in their hearts to hear it.
“Ogin of Ravenfield is going to die. It may be by my sword or under my eye or by another's hand while I am held in some other part of the battle, but from this moment forth, he is no more than a corpse. I vow that upon my very soul.”
Tired as he was, sleep would not come to the Falconer captain. Dark thoughts filled his mind, grim accusations from which even the violence of his hatred for the Holdlord of Ravenfield could not screen him. He had accomplished so little since his corning to Seakeep … No, that softened his guilt. He had failed in so much, had failed so many he who had sworn to guard …
Storm Challenger flew from the place he had chosen at the footboard of the bunk to come within reach of his companion's hand.
Tarlach stroked the bird. The mariners had treated him well and correctly when he had come to them battered and soaked from his flight through the gale. They had wrappedchim in a towel, drying and warming him, and had fed him well. More, they had shown him the respect of recognizing that he had news of import to deliver and of trying to comprehend him until he had been able to lead them to the survivors.
His fingers stopped in mid-caress. This one could well and rightly quit him for the blunder he had made, yet in his friendship, he made no accusation. A man could search far and long before finding the like in a fellow human.
The falcon's head turned back toward the door, and he gave a soft call.
The man sat up. Una was lying awake as well and had used her ability to communicate with Storm Challenger to ascertain that Tarlach did not sleep and to request that he come to her.
The mercenary threw a cloak over the tunic the Tern's captain had given him and hastened down the narrow passage to the cabin which he knew to be the Holdlady's, staying close to the wall lest he be thrown down as the vessel rolled and shuddered under the battering of the storm once more raging outside.
A sick dread filled his heart. He knew the reception he merited from Una of Seakeep, the justice of her outrage, even to her dismissal of him, though her need for blank shields would probably preclude that last. Imellectually, he accepted the consequences of his misjudgment, but he knew, too, that if She met him with contempt—or, worse, with disappointment—it would break what little remained to him at the moment of spirit. He did not even have the will left to resent that her regard had come to be of such immense importance to him.
He was before her door. He hesitated only a moment before knocking. There was no point to cowardice. This meeting must take place, now or within a few hours. It was better to have it over, to have his fears confirmed or laid to rest as quickly as possible. Even despair was preferable to this accursed uncertainty …
Una was resting upon her bunk but was still fully clad. She was relaxed now and comfortable, and even in her male attire she looked remarkably winsome. He realized quite irrelevantly that he had never before been inside an intimate chamber of hers.
She motioned to the chest which was apparently part of every such cabin's furnishings and then moved to the foot of the bunk so that she might sit near to him.
His eyes went to her freshly bandaged hands.
“How are they?”
“Perfectly at ease. They suffered no real damage, though I suppose the scarring, may be a little worse, now —What of your own hurts?”
He shrugged.
“They are insignificant.”
His voice was muffled despite all his effort to conceal the weight riding him, and her fingers moved quickly to grasp his as they had on the dory when he had believed Storm Challenger lost.
“Tarlach, what agony is on you? I saw it before we parted earlier, and it has doubled in that little time.”
His eyes fell, but he did not attempt to
conceal his misery. It seemed that he could not, not before her.
“Even now, I lay trouble upon your troubles, “ he whispered bitterly. “It was mine to shield you, Lady, to see that no peril or discomfort ever came nigh to you, yet I have brought you only danger, hardship, and suffering.”
He touched the bandages covering her palms.
“You gave me my life there on the ledge, and it was very nearly bought with your disability and disfigurement. Since that night … ”
“I am the rightful ruler of Seakeepdale. I will not abdicate the responsibilities laid on me, not any of them, and I most assuredly cannot refuse the duties binding all human beings.”
“I had my duties as we perform them adequately.”
“In what sense?” she demanded sharply.
“Had I sent Storm Challenger aloft when we boarded the Dion Star, we should not have been trapped there. I had feared he might be sighted and identified, thereby revealing the extent of our suspicions, and I judged that a greater danger than the possibility of actual surprise and attack. My misreading of the true situation caused three men to die and inflicted upon us all that we have endured since then.”
The woman stared at him, then anger flashed in the green eyes.
“You are either playing the fool, or you are proud to the point that it interferes with your reason,” she told him, giving full vent to her irritation. “You erred, perhaps, but we, at least, live, and with the definite knowledge of Ogin's guilt.”
“By chance, we live.”
“By chance and your good management. Life is a chance.—Can you allow yourself no mistake, Tarlach of the Falconers?”
He averted his face.
“Not with such a charge laid on me.”
Una's lips parted. She should have known—he had all but declared it on more than one occasion—but that it should be so deep …
She bowed her head lest he read the recognition in her. Any response, to this on her part, whether that of her heart or of cold wisdom, could only serve to increase his pain, to render his position the more difficult. She must and would continue with this interview as if he had not betrayed, himself to her, as if they were no more to one another than comrades linked by strong friendship and common cause. Even that was much and too much for one such as he to admit.
The Falconer had come to a very similar decision, and when he faced her again a few seconds later, she found him apparently completely composed and easy of spirit.
“For your understanding, thanks given, my Lady,” he said and then seemed to close the matter between them. Of a certainty, she saw with relief, he did not realize how much else he had told her.
The Daleswoman thought he would leave her immediately, but he remained beside her, watching her closely. “You Said but little when I mentioned the àction we must take against Ogin,” Tarlach said at last. “I would know your thoughts concerning it.”
“Even if they are contrary to yours?”
“Even so, Lady. It is active war which we are discussing, not merely defensive guarding, and you speak for your Dale.”
She sighed; knowing and hating the confirmation she must give.
“I do not wish to see this ancient land bleeding anew, and I most particularly do not want Seakeep to be the Dale responsible for once more bringing the curse of war upon it.”
Her slender body straightened.
“My desire is irrelevant. A terrible evil has taken root here. It must be eradicated, whatever the cost.”
The man nodded and then smiled faintly. He felt easier in his mind now. Seeing Una looking so well after her ordeal and hearing her acceptance of his part in if had raised much of the depression which had been crushing his heart, and her support of the course he needs must recommend reassured him, for he, too, had little love for the thought of loosing more bloodshed and violence over High Hallack and had even begun to doubt against the dictates of reason his right to do so.
He rose to his feet. With the double weight lifted from his spirit, his weariness was taking hold of him at last, to the point that he was becoming perceptibly light-headed. He must leave her now, or he would be unable to do so at all.
“I had best go,” he told her. “We shall both need our minds fresh when we reach your tower.”
“Rest well, my comrade,” she replied softly. “You have battled long and hard already for Seakeep's sake.”
22
All that night, Tarlach lay locked in a sleep so deep that it might almost have been a shade of death itself, utterly oblivious of the lashing of the tempest outside, oblivious of the valiant and at times bitter struggle of the crew against it.
When he woke at last, it was to sunny skies and an ocean once more gentle and loving.
He lay still for several long seconds, allowing himself the nigh unto hedonistic pleasure of orienting himself slowly, as a lord might have done in his own bed in a time of peace, since he, in truth, did know where he was and his every instinct proclaimed the world to be quiet and secure around him.
He rose in the end and dressed himself in the garments laid out on the sea chest, again moving with deliberate slowness.
His muscles gave surprisingly little protest when he tested himself, and he wondered absently if it were possible to condition oneself against abuse even as one did against the rigors of a blank shield's life.
It was the Tern's master who greeted the captain when he came out on deck and described for him the storm of the previous night. He then gave him their position relative to their destination.
“You were out so long that we were beginning to fear we would have to carry you into the tower, ‘’ he finished, grinning broadly.
Tarlach smiled.
“You would have managed to wake me somehow, I think I would be rather heavy cargo.”
He glanced about him.
“Are any of the others up yet?”
“No. You are the first. They should all be stirring .shortly?”
The captain realized he was famished and requested food, which was brought to him with a speed that declared this need had been anticipated. He and Storm Challenger had scarcely begun eating before his companions from the Cormorant joined them.
The afternoon was old when the thrice-welcome sight of the round tower and then the cottages and fields nestled in its protection at last lay open in their eyes. A short while after that sighting, they were ashore.
Tarlach went immediately to the tower, delaying only long enough to place the passengers and crew of the Tern under bonds of silence with the exception of Una who needs must face the nearest kin of those she had seen slain. Seakeep's code would not permit these ones to be unnecessarily kept in concern and suspense or that they learn the truth through rumor, and so the Holdruler went privately to each household to inform its members of their loss and to bid them to hold their grief in silence for a brief time yet.
The Falconer captain summoned Brennan and Rorick to accompany him to what both guessed from his manner was to be a council of no small import. Rufon he called as well, but once he had them assembled, he remained quiet, saying only that Una must be present before they could begin. None pressed him, although the grim cast of his expression, his very silence, bespoke news that was both harsh and significant.
His grey eyes darkened when the Holdlady finally appeared. Her set, too-white face told the difficulty of the task just behind her.
He hastened to her. His fingers closed briefly over her hand. This was a pain he knew too well himself, and his own heart sickened to think how often she might be compelled to repeat it before the horror that was to come could be brought to an end once more.
Every eye was on him, and the mercenary made no further delay in giving his report of all his party had seen and endured.
He spoke tersely, without any display of emotion, for he did not want to drive his listeners into ill-considered action. The crimes which he described were grave, and grave were the measures necessary to prevent their repetition. It must be
reason's decision whether to accept or reject his proposals, reason only, and not an outraged heart.
As had been the case aboard the Tern, all were silent a long time after he had finished speaking.
The first to address him was Rufon.
“You believe attack is our only answer?”
“I do, as I have said. To spare this Ogin now would be the equal of nurturing the seeds of plague in your house. A man such as he could never be trusted even if fear of reprisal kept him human for years, for decades. One day, he would strike out again.”
The Dalesman looked to his liege.
“This is my thought as well, my Lady, but war is no light matter, as we all know to our sorrow. Do you agree with this?”
“I know the grief which can, which almost certainly must come of our choosing this day, but the Lord of Ravenfield has made our decision for us. Such work as he has wrought cannot be permitted to continue. I stand by the captain, as I have already declared to him.”
The Holdlady turned formally to Tarlach
“So let it be, Captain. Seakeepdale is at war, and yours is the waging of it. I only would I were able to do more for my people and for yours than send them into peril with my blessing.”
“Your part, you will do. As for the rest, the waging of war is my company's work. Our swords would not otherwise have been bound to Seakeep's cause when you perceived die shadow looming over you.”
“Seakeep's warriors shall be with you all the same,” She told him firmly, “in whatever capacity you choose to use them. We are not a race to permit others to carry horror in our stead.”
“This, I know,” he replied, smiling for the first time.
“How do you plan to conduct this war, Captain?” the veteran asked him. With their course determined, only the laying of their plans—and bringing them to fruition—remained.