“You and Dev not the best of friends then?” he inquired, evidently amused.
“The man’s privy slime!” I wasn’t about to change my mind on that in a hurry.
“You know the legend about the masquerader whose mask stuck to his face when he abused Ostrin’s hospitality without knowing it?” The sailor nodded toward Dev’s retreating boat. “That’s Dev’s problem; he’s spent so long playing the part to keep himself from being skinned alive for magecraft.”
I watched the little vessel move swiftly away in defiance of wind and wave. No need for concealment excused Repi’s plight, as far as I was concerned. Still, there was nothing I or anyone could do to help her and at least I was free of Dev now. I turned to the captain.
“Where are we headed? Relshaz or Col? I’m not quite clear which side of the Cape of Caladhria we are.”
The sailor laughed. “Sorry, friend, we’re bound for Hadrumal, full sail and best speed.”
“Hadrumal can wait; I’m a sworn man to Messire D’Olbriot, my duty is to him.” I thought about the fortune I had concealed in my gear. “I can make it worth your while to set me ashore on the mainland, I’ll pay a full charter fee.”
“I’m not crossing the Archmage for all the gems in Aldabreshi.” The mariner shook his head firmly. “You’re going to Hadrumal, friend, like it or not.”
Chapter Nine
Taken from the Archive of the
Guild of Master Mariners, Peorle,
a letter written by Master Obrim Eschale to his son,
in the 10th year of Emperor Inshol the Curt
Dastennin send his blessings on you, Pennel, and all who sail with you.
I am gravely concerned to hear that you are intending to attempt a voyage to Hadrumal on the spring tides. I would tell you to steer a course well clear of that accursed isle, were I not confident that you will never make landfall there. You fool, don’t you realize that the mages who have made that place their own will only allow those boats they wish to find them? You will never even see the hidden island, let alone navigate the magical defenses wrought around the harbor. All you are doing is risking being lost at sea, along with your crew and hull in a futile quest for a moon’s reflection.
I have spoken with various mariners who have taken the Archmage’s coin to ferry hapless youths to their so-called apprenticeships in the service of those ancient wizards and none of their stories agree. Some have sailed for days beyond the sight of land, only to find themselves surrounded by fog, which hangs proof against the strongest winds. Then the mist magically clears to reveal the island they are seeking. Others tell of enchanted currents seizing their vessels, carrying them this way and that, proof against all pull of wind and sail, to bring them suddenly to an unexpected landfall. No two ships spend the same time on the journey, no two captains’ records agree but for the one incontrovertible fact that, once a ship has taken the Archmage’s coin and set sail for Hadrumal, the sun cannot be seen after the first three days at sea. There is daylight, do not mistake me, but the sun is lost behind a haze of shifting magic, so that no readings or calculations of position may be made.
These wizards do not want to be found, my son. Respect their wishes or risk their wrath. You have heard the tales as well as I of the savage vengeance taken by mages on those that defy them; do you want your eyes blasted from your head? Do you want unquenchable fire burning your ship to the waterline? Why do you think these people were driven into the sea in the first place, if not to save us all from their inhuman powers and unbridled lust for domination? Do not be dazzled by the glitter of the Archmage’s gold, my boy, do not let it blind you to the dangers that ring Hadrumal, more perilous than any reef or shoal.
What is the point of such a voyage? These wizards have no interest in the lives of ordinary folk. There is no trade to be done, no cargo to ferry, beyond those few foolhardy enough to risk their lives in a search for unholy powers. I would call it wiser to sail blindly into the Archipelago and hope not to be ripped apart by the brazen fangs of barbarian warships. Have you learned so little, in all the years I have struggled to teach you wisdom? What is your mother going to say?
The hidden island city of Hadrumal,
29th of For-Summer
Hadrumal was bigger than I expected. Not that I could have said exactly what I was expecting; some bleak and rocky islet, aloof above inaccessible cliffs, storm-tossed and lost in clouds of brooding spray? Possibly, perhaps, certainly not a long island of shelving beaches and wooded lowlands, a swell of green downs rising away to run down its length, unmistakably dotted with livestock of some kind. As the ship with me as its unwilling passenger turned down the narrowing estuary of a little river, I saw docks and quays, warehouses and boatyards, such as you might find anywhere along the coast from Col to Toremal, where a seaside Lord has turned his own modest anchorage into a handy base for passing ships. It was quiet in the noonday heat of a summer’s day, the few people about ready enough to help with line and gangway when the master of the ship drew the vessel deftly alongside the timber piles of the dockside.
I was leaning on the rail, my thoughts grim, when I heard a familiar voice.
“Ryshad, over here!”
I’d been glad to see Shiv the last time he had hailed me like that. I looked for him, unsmiling, and returned his enthusiastic waves with a single desultory gesture.
“Thank you for the passage, Master.” I bowed with bitter irony to the captain of the ship as I passed him on my way to collect my baggage. “Where are you bound for next?”
“Col,” he shrugged, unconcerned.
“Please pass this onto the Imperial Despatch.” I slipped a folded and twice-sealed parchment into his hand, “It’s a letter for my mother.”
He nodded. “I’ll be glad to.”
That was one weight off my mind at least. I’d wondered about writing to Messire or better yet to Camarl, who might just be more sympathetic to my sorry tale, but I had decided against it. These wizards could make themselves useful and send any communication I had a mind to make once I had the measure of this new situation.
“I can’t say how relieved I am to see you again!” Shiv clapped his hand against my shoulder. “Come on, I’m to take you straight to Planir.”
“Why?” I was going to make it clear from the start that my days as anyone’s slave were over. There had been no point in taking out my frustrations on the captain of the ship; he had been simply doing as he was ordered and I had to respect that. Now I felt slow anger building within me; if Planir thought he had bought me, body or mind, he was going to find he’d got more than he bargained for.
“He wants to meet you, congratulate you, hear all you have to say,” replied Shiv. “There’s much your experiences can tell us, information we can use against the Elietimm. Planir needs that straightaway.”
I nodded. All right; I had no problem with letting Planir know just where I stood right at the outset. If he wanted to argue about it, he’d have a fight on his hands and that didn’t worry me in the slightest. The sooner everything was clear, the sooner I could leave this cursed place and get back to my own life. I wondered fleetingly where Livak might be. Turning to Shiv, I was about to ask him, but something in his expression deterred me.
The doubts and diffidence that had been so marked in Shiv last time I had seen him were strikingly absent. He was looking far more confident and assured and, as a result, far more distant than I remembered him, his dark hair cut level at jaw length, a formal gown belted in with a tooled leather strap. Not at all sure I’d find him my ally now his feet were firmly on Hadrumal’s soil, I decided I could wait to find out where Livak was. Shrugging my bag on to my shoulder, I followed Shiv up the dock to a boggy pool of the river where a bridge marched across on stout foundations toward a road Misaen himself would have been proud of. Close-laid stones were laid on a solid foundation, ditches at either side to carry the run-off from the curved surface. I tried not to be too impressed as I saw the city of the wizards for the first time. After all, compared to somewhere like Toremal, or even Zyoutessela, it was no bigger than a middling market town.