I chuckled. That made the joke richer.
I hustled back topside. We were taking too long. "Mica!" I called softly. "Come on. We haven't got all day."
He poked his head out the deckhouse door. "Here. Take some of this crap."
He had gotten some gold, of course. But not much. The rest seemed to be books, papers, and the thing-gobbies sorcerers have to have to be comfortable doing their nasties.
VII
I rolled over Dragon's rail expecting all eyes to be looking my way.
None were. None did. The strangers were crowded against the base of the poop. Colgrave stood above them, a mocking smile on half his face. Everybody stared at him like he was some demon god.
Sometimes I thought he was myself. The men were impatient. The strangers felt it. Their fear was about to become panic. Only the will of the creature in red kept them from running.
Mica handed up our plunder. I concealed it beneath a spritsail lying on the forecastle deck. Mica rolled over the rail.
Colgrave's glance flicked our way. His smile stretched. He terminated the audience with a shrug and a turned back.
The creature in red started back to its vessel. Its followers surged around it, eager to be gone.
I half drew my bow for the third time.
The creature in red smiled at me.
That made me mad. I would have let fly had Colgrave not shook his head.
Nobody mocked the Bowman....
Then they were gone, their vessel turning away and heading back whence it had come. They stood around watching us, as if to make sure we did not change our minds about letting them go.
Their ship was a foot lower in the water already. Soon they would realize that she was not responding properly. They would discover the hole....
I had cut it too big for them to keep afloat by pumping. And I doubted that they would be able to get a good patch on it. I slapped Mica's back. "Let's take the stuff to the Old Man."
It was not a chore that pleased me. Though it was unavoidable, I plain did not like being anywhere near Colgrave. But with Student gone, he was the only reader left aboard.
Anyway, he needed to know what we had. If anything.
He stirred through the pile. Mica's personal plunder he pushed to one side. Mica took it below. The rest Colgrave sorted into three piles. A half-dozen items he just flipped over his shoulder, over the rail, into the sea. Then he examined the piles again. He deep-sixed several more items.
Toke, Tor, and I watched in silence. Colgrave kept dithering, poking. I don't think he knew what he had. But Colgrave was not the type to admit ignorance.
Finally, I could stand no more. "What did they want?" I demanded.
"The usual," Colgrave replied without looking up. "A little murder. A little terror. With his enemies on the bull's-eye, of course. Not ours." "His?"
"I think it was a he. You cut a big hole, Bowman?"
"Big enough. It'll stop them." He seemed so damned blase after what had been done to us. Was he still trusting in divine protection? After the Itaskian sorcerer? If so, he was a fool. That was one thing that had never been pinned on Colgrave.
"Tor, go to the masthead. Let us know when they go dead in the water. Toke, make sail for Freyland. I think she'll respond now."
I watched while Colgrave examined several books. He seemed awfully undignified, sitting on the deck with his legs crossed. Finally, "Captain, what're we going to do?"
He peered at me with that one evil eye till I thought he was going to have me thrown to the sharks. One did not address Colgrave. Colgrave called one to the presence.
He finally replied, "It would be a raid to belittle anything we've ever tried. Portsmouth itself. Burn the docks. Burn the town. Kill everybody we can." "Why?"
"I didn't ask, Bowman." His voice was cold and hard. He was tired of my questions. Yet I remained where I was. He had changed. He was more open than ever I had seen. "He ordered us. We haven't yet tested the limits of his control. We may not be able to do otherwise."
"And we do have our grievances." "Yes. We have scores to settle with Portsmouth."
Dragon shifted her heading to north-northeast. We were on course for the island kingdoms.
"The little sailmaker must have overlooked something," Colgrave said. "There's nothing here we can use. All we can do is deny this stuff to him."
"She's taking in sail, Captain," Tor called down. A vast amusement filled his voice.
The story had passed through the crew, spread by Mica. There was a lot of laughter.
I looked north. I could barely make out the other vessel.
Damn, did that Tor have eyes.
Excellent eyes. "Sail ho!" he called a moment later. "She's a big one. War galleon, by her look."
His arm thrust aft. Colgrave and I turned.
We could just make out her main tops. I looked at Colgrave.
I could see the torment in him. The need... He had to have bloodshed the way I had to have rum, had to use my bow.
"She's an Itaskian," Tor called a few minutes later. The bloodlust filled his voice. He, too, needed the killing.
Nervousness and uncertainty washed the maindeck. The men no longer had the absolute confidence that had impelled them before our capture.
Dragon had changed indeed. And was changing still.
"Maintain your heading, First Officer," Colgrave finally croaked.
It tore him up to say it. But he did.
A breeze came up. It took us on our port quarter, setting us to landward. The more we turned to seaward, the harder it blew.
The smell of wizardry tainted it.
Colgrave gathered Mica's plunder, took it to his cabin, then returned to
the poop. He said nothing more. The stubborn Colgrave of old, he kept Dragon's course inalterably fixed on Freyland.
We passed within three hundred yards of the sorcerer's ship. Its crew were too busy keeping from drowning to pay attention. Several called for help. We sailed on.
Colgrave laughed at them. I'm sure his voice carried that far.
The breeze died soon afterward, as the other ship began going under. I guess the wizard needed to concentrate on surviving.
One round for us.
We took orders from nobody. Not even those who pretended to be our saviors.
That is what Tor said the thing in red had claimed when it had spoken to Colgrave. It had wanted to bargain.
To bargain? I thought. Then its hold on us could not be as strong as it would like.
I smiled. And stood on the forecastle looking forward to the coasts of Freyland. It had been a long time since we had sailed them.
The black birds circled overhead. After a time, one by one, they settled into our tops. They seemed less outraged than they had been.
VIII
Spring had only recently conquered the western shores of Freyland. The cove where we anchored was surrounded by low, forested hills blushing green. The afternoons were warm and lazy.
There was nothing to do. For the first time since I had come aboard, Dragon was in perfect repair. Half the ship's work being done was stuff Toke and Lank Tor conjured up because they did not have anything to do either. For several days we just plain loafed.
But in the background lurked the nagging questions, the aching doubts. What would Colgrave decide? Would it be the right thing?