When Sago had recovered from the stonefish poison, the old sorcerer had gone out in his boat and a few twinkling lights had been seen. But after the first night there were no more lights, and freak storms had blown up. They found pieces of Sago's boat washed up on shore. A group of villagers had gone to see how the sorcerer fared and found him weak and completely addled. It was as if the loss of his boat had broken the old man. Lom made it a point to go every day to make sure he ate and slept, but said he feared the sorcerer had burned out the last of his sorcery. And the sumog kept ravaging the waters of Ardara.
"I know where sumog come from," Brie said, and then she poured out her tale. All the patrons of the Speckled Trout gathered round to listen. At first her tongue felt like a tangled fishing line, but the words came and the fisherfolk listened. As she spoke, Brie caught a glimpse of the innkeeper on the edges of the group. She suddenly remembered the stonefish the innkeeper had planted in Sago's amhantar and cursed herself for a fool for choosing this place to tell her tale. But there was nothing she could do. The innkeeper said nothing, just listened closely, a scowl on his face.
When Brie was done it was Lom who said quietly, "When do we go north?"
"At dawn tomorrow."
"Where shall we meet?"
"Veena Creek, on the outskirts of town."
Lom turned and faced the Ardarans. "Who will come?"
There were several heartfelt "Ayes!" and a handful of nodding heads.
Then the innkeeper elbowed his way forward, saying, "Fools! Would you put yourselves in the hands of a leannan-shee?!"
Stunned, Brie stared at the innkeeper. Lom, his face red with anger, took a step toward him. Brie opened her mouth to reveal the innkeeper's treachery, but he spoke first. "Think, ye half-wits," he spit out. "Things only began to go bad after the leannan-shee came to Ardara. She's claimed Lom here, and the boy Dil." Jacan held Lom back while the innkeeper continued. "And you've seen how chummy she's been with that feeble-minded, washed-up Sea Dyak sorcerer. No doubt they've been in it together all along."
A restraining hand still on Lom's shoulder, Jacan spoke loudly. "Pay the innkeeper no heed. Dungal is threatened. We must spread the word. Come." Brie had been on the verge of speaking out about the innkeeper's own complicity in the stonefish attack on Sago, but Jacan had linked his arm in hers and was leading a large group of fishermen out of the Speckled Trout. Looking back, she noticed that a handful of villagers stayed behind and were huddled by the ale tap, listening to the innkeeper.
Lom and the others went to spread the word, while Brie headed for Sago's mote.
***
"The prodigal returns. Sing hey nonny no!"
Sago was sitting on the front step of his mote, a kittiwake on one shoulder and one at his feet. He looked smaller than before and his head was naked, no cap the color of seawater and no hair at all. He smiled when he saw Brie, but did not try to rise. There was a new fragility in him that frightened her.
"Shall we to battle then?" he said, eyes alight. He tried to stand, but fell back, chortling, "You bring the lantern, I'll bring the pole, and we'll have sumog for dinner tonight!"
"Sago, I am sorry about your boat, about Gor-gwynt."
"Once there was a little rig;
a seabird taught it how to jig.
It danced all day, it danced all night,"
Sago intoned with a frenzied grin, "and then it danced right out of sight."
"Sago, I have met Balor."
The sorcerer laid a finger aside his nose, cocking his head to one side. "Balor, Balor. A shining boy, as I recall, an ambitious boy. Ill-pleased when I would not teach him. I could not see it; no, he had no aptitude for fishing."
"We are trying to gather an army, to fight Balor."
"Four and twenty sailors
Went to kill a snail.
And a little maid shall lead them,
All around the dale,"
he chanted, throwing a piece of bread in the air. As the kittiwake on his shoulder launched itself into the air to go after it, its talons dug into Sago's thin shoulder and he winced, doubling over.
He straightened with a grimace, and asked, eyes wide, "And when dost the army march? For I shall march with you, oh yes, indeedy, I shall."
"You are not well enough, Sago."
"A parrot fish a day keeps the healers away." Sago grinned. "When and where?"
"Dawn tomorrow. Veena Creek," Brie told him reluctantly.
Sago rose, with an effort painful to watch, picked up his amhantar, and slung it over his shoulder. "Time for one last treasure hunt, then." He raised his hand in farewell and slowly headed down toward the sea. He moved like a very old man, tentatively, stiffly. Brie watched him for several moments, then turned and left the beach.
EIGHTEEN
Bren-huan
As she made her way back through Ardara, Brie spotted Lorn.
"How was Sago?" he asked as they fell into step together.
Brie shook her head. "He says he will journey north with us."
"He has not the strength."
Brie nodded her agreement absently. Then she cleared her throat. "Uh, thank you for sending me Araf. I am afraid she ran off."
"She found her way back to Ardara."
Brie looked surprised.
"Yes, somewhat of a miracle. But Araf is smarter than she appears to be." They exchanged a smile.
Brie took a breath. "Lom, I..."
"No," Lom interrupted, raising a hand. "I know. I knew when you left Ardara. Your way lies somewhere other than a small Dungal fishing village."
Brie was silent for a moment, then, "I wish it were not so."
"I know that as well." He smiled at her. "Perhaps I am like the horse Araf in that way."
Brie laughed with Lom, then her smile faded. "Will they come? The Ardarans?"
Lom shook his head. "I do not know. Some, but there are many who are afraid. And the innkeeper's words will give them a reason to stay."
"The innkeeper serves the sorcerer Balor. He helped to plant the stonefish that sickened Sago."
"I see." Lom looked grim. "Well, there is still time before dawn. I will do what I can do."
***
Brie slept poorly that night. By the time dawn came she had been awake for some time, having brewed a pan of cyffroi, given both Fiain and Ciaran thorough rubdowns, as well as a hearty breakfast of oats, and even begun work on new arrows for her quiver.
Collun joined her at the fire, and she handed him a cup of cyffroi. He drank it quickly, expressing doubt that he could ever get used to the taste. Veena Creek was low, showing signs of the drought.
Lom was the first to come, with Jacan, Ferg, Hyslin, and Gwil not far behind. Lom told Brie that his father, Farmer Garmon, had wished to come, but Lotte had begged and pleaded with him to stay, until, unwilling, he capitulated. Hyslin was there to see Gwil off. A large farmer named Huld arrived at the creek, followed by two brothers, both fishermen, who looked alike, lean and small. A boy named Marc, brother to the girl Beith, who loved to tease Ferg, came. Beith was there, too, to see her brother off. There was no laughter in her snapping black eyes this morning. Dil, the boy to whom Brie had given archery lessons, rode up on a dappled pony. He grinned at Brie, holding up his homemade bow. Then a young fisherman with thick eyebrows called Clun came, accompanied by his younger sister, at whom he frequently scowled for coming against his wishes. She was Maire, a tall girl with a stubborn chin. Then Henle arrived, accompanied by five other fishermen.
And after that no one came.