“The ogre ship is helpless!” she said abruptly. “Why don’t you flee while you have the chance? Your cousin Raegar’s ship is filled with troops. He would gladly protect us.”
“He would gladly make us slaves again,” said Skylan grimly. “I would join my friend Keeper in Torval’s Hall before I let that happen.”
“That is because you are a warrior and live for death,” said Treia. “If you have no care for yourself, Skylan Ivorson, think of Aylaen. Will you sacrifice her to your pride?”
Skylan cast an uncertain glance at Aylaen and said nothing. Treia saw the look and, like a skilled swordsman, moved in for the kill.
“Raegar is your kinsman, Skylan. He never wanted to enslave you. Raegar was following the orders of that man-Legate Acronis. And yet you trust him more than your own kin. Raegar will let you go free, Skylan. You and Aylaen can sail back to your homeland. You will be welcomed as a hero.”
“My cousin would do all this for me,” said Skylan dryly. “Raegar is truly magnanimous. What does he expect in return?”
Treia missed the sarcasm.
“Give up the Vektia spiritbone,” said Treia eagerly. “It doesn’t belong to you anyway.”
“It damn well doesn’t belong to Raegar,” said Skylan.
Treia lost her temper. “You will never win, Skylan. Your own gods are against you! If you continue with this quest, it will end in tragedy.”
Skylan didn’t trust Treia, but he was forced to acknowledge that she had once been a Bone Priestess, close to gods who must have granted her the power to use the Vektia spiritbone, though not the power to control it. Her words had the ring of truth. Skylan remembered the fury who had been sent to kill him, the druid’s enigmatic warning about powerful enemies.
Treia saw by his furrowed brow and shadowed eyes that she had struck a telling blow. She pursued her advantage.
“Give up this ill-fated journey, Skylan. Too many have died already.”
“I will-” said Skylan.
Treia’s face brightened.
“-after I send Raegar to his grave.”
Skylan leaned on the rudder and steered the Venjekar straight toward the ogre ship.
“You fool!” Treia cried. “You will get us all killed!”
“Go crawl back in your hole,” Skylan told her.
Treia swore at him and, grabbing up her skirts, ran to Aylaen and seized hold of her by the arm.
“Make him listen to reason, Sister! He will pay attention to you!”
Aylaen rounded on Treia.
“Do not call me ‘Sister’!” Aylaen hissed the word. She grabbed Treia’s hand and flung her back. “I have no sister.”
“You will be sorry,” said Treia vehemently.
She did not return to the hold, but stalked over to the stern and stood there by herself, her smoldering gaze fixed on Raegar’s ship.
Wulfe had been hiding behind Aylaen until Treia left. Once she was gone, he hurried over to Skylan.
“I’ve been talking to the oceanaids,” Wulfe reported. “They are worried. Something is wrong.”
“Like that ogre ship bearing down us?” Skylan asked.
“This doesn’t have anything to do with ogres,” Wulfe said.
Skylan was concentrating on steering the ship so as to bring it alongside the ogre vessel.
Wulfe didn’t like being ignored. “Do you remember the time the Sea Goddess sent that storm that nearly drowned us? The oceanaids warned me about that and I told you and you didn’t listen.”
“Is there a storm coming?” Skylan asked.
“I told you it was like that time,” said Wulfe crossly. “I didn’t say it was that time.”
Skylan shook his head in exasperation. “I’ll deal with your oceanaids later. Go tell Aylaen I need to talk to her.”
Wulfe scowled, then did what he was told. Skylan kept his gaze on the ogre ship. The ogres had seen the Venjekar heading straight for them. Ogre warriors lined the ship’s rails.
Skylan could imagine what the ogres must be thinking. The Vindrasi nation was far away and yet here was a Vindrasi dragonship, where no dragonship should be. The Venjekar had come out of the mists, stolen upon them as silently as a ghost. The ogres massed at the rail, their combined weight causing the ship to rock dangerously. The godlord yelled at them in a rage and the ogre heads disappeared as quickly as if they had all been lopped off. Skylan had counted at least twenty ogres.
Skylan looked up at the dragon. Kahg’s eyes were bright. His spirit flowed through the ship, carrying the Venjekar over the water. Aylaen had returned.
“If you summon Kahg, will he fight?” Skylan asked.
“He will protect us. He might fight the ogres,” Aylaen said. “But he won’t fight Raegar’s dragon, Fala. He is upset and angry. He feels he’s been betrayed.”
“Not by me!” Skylan said testily. “You know damn well Raegar’s going to summon his dragon, send her to attack us. I’m surprised he hasn’t already.”
“Raegar needs us alive,” said Aylaen. “To tell him where to find the spiritbone.” She cast a glance at her sister. Treia stood by herself, her arms folded across her chest. She did not take her eyes off Raegar’s ship.
Skylan muttered something under his breath. The Dragon Kahg had sharp ears, apparently, for his red eyes swiveled around to glare at him.
“You should take your sister and go down into the hold,” said Skylan.
“You should go jump in the ocean,” said Aylaen. She walked back to the prow. She was wearing the sword of Vindrash and with one hand on the hilt, placed the other trustingly on the dragon’s neck.
Wulfe was back. “The oceanaids-”
“Go tell Aylaen,” Skylan said. “Stay with her.”
“But-”
Skylan glowered. “Do as I say or I swear by Torval I will throw you over the side and you can swim with your damn oceanaids.”
Wulfe muttered something and walked off, his bare feet stomping angrily in the puddles on the deck.
Skylan sailed near enough to be within shouting distance of the ogres, then he deftly brought the ship alongside the ogre vessel. Keeping his hands where the ogre godlord could see them, Skylan reached down, drew his sword from its sheath, and slowly and deliberately placed it on the deck at his feet. Acronis did the same with his own sword. Farinn had managed to lose his axe along the way; no great loss, since he had never been particularly skilled with it. He had been posted beside Keeper’s body that was still covered by the sail cloth. Not knowing what else to do, Farinn raised his hands in the air.
Aylaen unbuckled the sheath of the sword of Vindrash and laid sword and sheath on the deck. Wulfe was at her side, hopping from one foot to the other and apparently trying to tell her about his oceanaids, for Skylan heard Aylaen tensely order him to hold his tongue.
Skylan cast a swift glance at Treia, hoping she would not interfere. She was still watching Raegar’s ship, which was still sailing toward them, though its speed had slowed now that they were near the ogres. Treia was not pleased. Her hands clenched to fists. Her lips moved.
“Here they come!” Acronis called in warning tones.
Thick lengths of rope snaked down over the side of the ogre ship, landing on the Venjekar’s deck. The ogres were going to climb down the ropes, board his ship, and kill them all.
Skylan filled his lungs with air and let out a shout that echoed across the sea. “I am called Skylan Ivorson. I am Chief of Chiefs of my people. I am not here to fight! I am here to bring my brother home.”
He gestured to Farinn, who lifted the sailcloth and drew it back to reveal the body. Keeper lay in state, his face and head painted, his hands holding his sword.
The ogres were taken completely by surprise. The godlord leaned over the rail for a better view. He was an imposing sight. Most ogres towered over Skylan. This ogre godlord towered over the other ogres. He must have stood eight feet tall.