His body was hulking and massive. He wore a heavy bearskin cloak. The paws wrapped around his neck, making him appear bigger. The godlord barked a command and another ogre joined him. At the sight of this second ogre, Skylan’s jaw sagged. He stared in disbelief.
The feathers in the ogre’s headdress were soaked and drooping; the ogre’s blue and green feather cape was in sad shape, making him look as though he were molting. The black kohl the ogre wore around his eyes had smeared over most of his face. Yet Skylan had no trouble recognizing the ogre shaman who had used his base and cowardly magicks to snatch the sacred Vektan Torque of the Vindrasi out of Skylan’s hand and carry it back to his ship and, presumably, back to the ogre realm.
Aylaen and Farinn also recognized the shaman; Skylan could tell by their amazed expressions. And so did Treia; that he could tell by her smile of bitter triumph.
“What do we do?” Farinn asked.
“Stick to the plan,” said Skylan.
It was all he had.
The shaman also recognized Skylan, it seemed, for he was talking excitedly to the godlord.
“I am Bear Walker, Godlord of the Fleet,” the ogre said proudly. “My shaman tells me that you have the blood of a godlord on your hands.”
Skylan couldn’t very well deny this, not without lying, and he’d had a bellyful of lies.
“My friend’s name is Keeper of the Flame,” Skylan called back. “He saved my life and I vowed I would honor him by bringing his body to his people.”
Skylan jabbed a finger behind him, pointing to the burning city. “Like Keeper, I was a slave in that evil place. He helped me and my friends escape. When the fog came, I could have dumped his body and sailed safely to my homeland. I could have ordered my dragon to attack you. Instead, I come in peace, as you see. I risk my life to fulfill my vow to my friend.”
In pointing to Sinaria, Skylan had also unfortunately drawn attention to Raegar’s ship, moving slowly, but closing the distance between them. The godlord eyed the war galley that had been refitted with a dragonhead prow.
“This is a trick,” said the godlord angrily. “You and your human friends plan to attack us.”
“Those humans are not my friends!” Skylan shouted. “Their evil god, Aelon, seeks to enslave the Vindrasi people, as well as yours. I come to you and to the Gods of Raj in friendship. I will prove it if your ship will join my ship. We will fight them together.”
The godlord conferred with the shaman. The shaman was opposed, but the godlord was clearly tempted. Skylan put himself in the godlord’s place. The ogres had been close to defeating the Sinarians, so close they must have been able to taste the sweetness of victory. Then the Vektia dragon had appeared, attacking friend and foe alike, raining down flood and fire, terror and destruction, and forcing the victorious ogres to flee for their lives.
The ogres had lost the battle they had assured their people they would win. Their homecoming would be dismal, if not disastrous. This godlord, commander of the fleet, would be forced to confess that he and his troops had been routed-provided he lived long enough to confess anything. Ogres gained promotion through assassination and this godlord’s standing among the other ogres must be extremely low. A few of those underlings must be thinking this was now their chance. Skylan was giving him a chance to strike a parting blow, salvage at least some of his honor.
Of course Raegar had his dragon, the young Dragon Fala. Raegar was now dependent on the power of the dragon to sail his ship. If he ordered her to attack Skylan, he would have to rely on the wind or the muscle in the arms of his rowers to sail his vessel. His galley’s speed would be reduced to a crawl.
The godlord made a peremptory gesture, cutting off the shaman’s argument, and ordered his warriors to draw up the boarding ropes. He was going to agree to the attack. Before Skylan could say a word, a piercing shriek caused his hair to stand on end.
Screaming Raegar’s name, Treia began waving her arms and jumping up and down and pointing at something.
“She’s gone mad!” Skylan said to himself.
Raegar was still some distance away, too far to hear or see her. Skylan looked to see what she was pointing at so wildly and saw another ogre ship. Treia was pointing at Sigurd, trying to draw Raegar’s attention.
Skylan snorted. Let her yell herself hoarse. Raegar couldn’t hear her from this distance.
“Raegar’s ship is changing course, Skylan!” Acronis reported.
“What? That’s not possible. How-” He looked at Acronis, who had his spyglass to his eye, and he knew how. Raegar must have a spyglass of his own. He could see Treia, if he could not hear her. He could see the deck of the Venjekar. What he would not see were Sigurd and the other Torgun warriors on board the ogre ship.
“Shut her up!” Skylan bellowed. “Take her below!”
But he was too late. The harm was done.
“Raegar’s changed course,” Acronis repeated, adding, “He’s chasing after Sigurd. And as slowly as that ogre ship your goddess gave us is moving, Raegar’s new dragonship has a fair chance of catching him.”
Skylan was cursing his luck and wondering if Aylaen would care very much if he lopped off her sister’s head when Farinn gave a warning shout. Skylan whipped around to see the ogre godlord flanked by ten ogres, all carrying massive spears.
All the spear points were aimed at Skylan.
“It was a trap!” the godlord roared.
“No, I swear by Torval-”
“I saw your female signaling to your friends! Surrender your ship to me or die!”
Skylan barely heard. He was instead focused on a strange sight. He could suddenly see the thread of his own wyrd stretching across the sea, running from the base of the World Tree, where the three Norn sat spinning, to where he stood on the Venjekar. As he watched, the thread split. One strand continued on unbroken toward the far horizon. The other stopped only a short distance ahead, slashed, cut short.
Skylan clasped the amulet of Torval around his neck and spoke a prayer. The threads remained and he knew the vision was real, sent to him by the god, and that it had to do with the decision he was about to make. The question: which wyrd was which? And should that even matter?
A spear thudded to the deck at his feet.
CHAPTER 7
“Be with me, Torval!” Skylan breathed, touching the amulet. He yanked the spear out of the deck and brandished it, holding it aloft, not threatening, but as a call to battle.
“I will prove that I am a friend!” Skylan shouted. He turned to Aylaen and said loudly, for all to hear, “Command the Dragon Kahg! We are going to attack Raegar’s ship.”
Aylaen stared at him, open-mouthed. She could command the dragon all she liked, but would he listen? Aylaen glanced at the spear-wielding ogres, gulped a little, and then clasped the spiritbone of the Dragon Kahg in her hand. Her lips moved. She reached down, dipped the spiritbone in one of the puddles.
“What is she doing?” Acronis asked, lowering his spyglass.
“Summoning the dragon,” said Skylan. He added beneath his breath, “I hope…”
He waited tensely, keeping an eye on the ogres.
“They’ve freed their anchor,” Farinn reported.
Aylaen cast the spiritbone in the air. The bone hung there for a moment. Skylan watched it, praying to every god in the pantheon that the Dragon Kahg would materialize.
The bone fell to the deck.
Aylaen cast Skylan a despairing glance. He sighed deeply and wondered what he was going to do next. The ogre godlord was arguing with the shaman, who was insisting that the dragonship was cursed and they should set it on fire and destroy it. The godlord-perhaps picturing himself returning home in triumph aboard the captured Venjekar-wanted to seize the ship. The godlord had no objection to killing Skylan and his people, but he wanted their ship.