With shaking hands, Wigg readjusted the scope. He looked again. His expert eye remained glued to the lens for a long time. As Jessamay watched in fear, her sobbing continued unabated.
CHAPTER XXXVII
As Serena sat among her husband's new servants, she felt a shudder go through her. Were they dead, alive, or something else, she wondered. Even given her immense skills of the craft, she could not tell.
But at least she could understand Wulfgar's vision of the future-the vision that had been imparted to him by the Guild of the Heretics, and that he had at last explained to her.
The meeting room was large and well appointed. Ten sat at the table: herself, Wulfgar, Einar, and the Council of Seven, as her husband called his new servants. A pair of armed demonslavers stood guard on the other side of the closed double doors. Two candelabras on the table threw their flickering light over a sumptuous spread of food and wine. In the far wall, a fire danced merrily in the hearth. Its smoke smelled familiar and comforting.
Taking up her wine glass, Serena refocused her attention on Wulfgar's words.
"…each of you will captain a Black Ship," he was saying. "You will command not only the Earthshakers assigned to your vessel, but also several full legions of demonslavers. Tomorrow you shall practice the sea maneuvers that you once carried out centuries ago, albeit for a very different cause. I wish to be sure that the legends of your prowess are still true." As he spoke, the ravaged half of his face contorted grotesquely.
"When we finally launch the war against Eutracia, several of you shall march your forces north to ensure the continued self-destruction of the Orb of the Vigors," he went on. "That is our chief concern. The rest of you shall aid me in the attack upon the royal palace. We shall destroy the Conclave of the Vigors, my half brother's Minions of Day and Night, and the Redoubt of the Directorate. When our victories are secure we will then turn our attention east, toward Parthalon. Compared to Eutracia, Parthalon will collapse like a house of cards."
"A question, my lord," one of the seven captains said.
It was the first time Serena had heard any of them speak, and it surprised her. Like the others, his glowing eyes and white teeth shone in his black skull.
"And that is?" Wulfgar asked.
"Are we to assume that any opposing force nearing the orb-especially that which might be commanded by the wizards or the Jin'Sai-is to be obliterated?" the captain asked.
Wulfgar smiled. "Indeed."
Then the Lord of the Vagaries leaned over, and placed both his hands upon the table. His single eye seemed to take everyone in at once. Even Serena found it unnerving.
"But hear me well," he added quietly. "The Jin'Sai and the Jin'Saiou are not to be killed. I have my own plans for my dear half brother and sister. Any of you who disobey this order will again find himself imprisoned in the sea-this time for all eternity."
The captain bowed his head slightly. "We understand, my lord," he answered. "All shall be as you order."
Serena watched as one of the Council lifted a goblet of wine in one skeletal hand and drank greedily. Some of the wine dribbled sloppily from his lipless mouth, running down his chin and onto his lap.
Unable to help herself, Serena continued to stare. He looked much like the others. Between the rents in his clothing and the spaces between his black ribs, she could see his esophagus undulate, and the swallowed wine swell his stomach. She watched transfixed as his dark heart beat, and his equally black lungs expanded and contracted with every breath.
Picking up a napkin from the table, he politely patted the wine from his teeth and chin. Amazed, Serena felt as though she was having dinner in a graveyard, with all of the interred risen from the ground, to join in the feast.
Wulfgar stood and trained his gaze upon the first of his captains.
"Come to me," he said.
The bizarre servant did as he was told.
"Kneel," Wulfgar ordered. The captain did so.
"Give me your sword."
The captain drew his weapon. It hadn't been freed for centuries, and it made a grating sound when it cleared its scabbard. Even so, the blade gleamed brightly in the lamplight. Bowing his head, the captain respectfully offered the weapon to his lord.
Taking the hilt in his good hand, Wulfgar held the sword to the light. Then he looked at those assembled at the table.
"So that your service to our cause shall have greater meaning for us all, I wish to know each of you by your family house," he said. He looked back down at his kneeling servant. "What was your family name, before your enemies condemned you to the sea?" he asked.
"Merriwhether," the captain answered.
Lowering the tip of the sword, Wulfgar pointed it toward the scabbard at the captain's side. Suddenly, a small, azure bolt of lightning launched from the tip of the weapon. Striking the scabbard, it etched the captain's family name into it. The script was elegant. The lightning disappeared, and Wulfgar raised the sword again.
"Arise, Captain Merriwhether," he said. "Welcome to the Council of Seven."
He handed the weapon back, and with a short bow, the captain stood and sheathed his sword.
As Serena and Einar watched Wulfgar repeat the process with each of the six other captains, Serena took care to remember their names: Merriwhether, Duggan, Sebastion, Grindoff, Cathmore, Ballard, and Garmane.
As they stood before her husband, Serena felt another twinge of her nerves. But this time, she knew, it was caused by her absolute certainty of the success of their mission, and her undying love for her husband. She knew that the Enseterat would return to her in victory.
Wulfgar raised his wine goblet.
"A toast," he said.
As Serena and Einar stood, all lifted their glasses.
"Tomorrow I shall order all of the demonslaver frigates into port, so that they will not interfere with your maneuvers," Wulfgar said. He raised his wine goblet higher.
"To the successful sea trials of the Black Ships!" he proclaimed.
As Wulfgar took a draft of wine, his Council of Seven cheered.
CHAPTER XXXVIII
Beating his dark wings through the sky, Ox blessed the good weather. A dozen stout warriors made up the arrowhead-shaped formation flying in his wake.
Ox and his phalanx had been searching for several hours. So far, they had seen nothing out of the ordinary. Truth be told, he wasn't really sure what he was looking for. Even Faegan hadn't been able to help very much when he gave the Minion his orders.
The wizard had done his best to explain, but the supposed existence of the Valrenkian community was not a simple concept to grasp, even for someone with a quicker wit than Ox. Faegan told him to scour the southern border of Hartwick Wood. Once there, he was to closely examine any villages or random groups of people he came across. If the warriors found a community that looked suspicious, they were to try to take a suitable prisoner. If the wizard's interrogation of him revealed nothing, he would, of course, be returned. So far, though, they had seen nothing unusual in the two hamlets they had searched. Only the Minions themselves were out of the ordinary: frightened citizens had scattered wildly when the warriors swooped low to take a look.
It was nearly midday, and the skies were clear. To scan as much territory as possible, Ox had taken his warriors very high. It was cold at this altitude, and frost had begun to form in their beards and hair.
Looking down, Ox could see the gentle curve of the Vitenka River. From its mouth at the coastal city of Far Point, it meandered southwest along the edge of the forest. In the distant south lay Heart Square, the fertile plain that always yielded so much wheat and barley. To the west of Heart Square the Vitenka would eventually split, its two branches reaching south toward the lower reaches of the Tolenka Mountains.