Ship of Dreams (14 page)

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Authors: Brian Lumley

BOOK: Ship of Dreams
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After a moment’s thought Hero took out his curved sword and fingered the rounded pommel and hilt. “Heave!” he commanded; and as the slab lifted he slid the inch-thick hilt of his sword into the gap. Now, as they rested for a second or two, Eldin took out his own blade and shoved its point slantingly up through the opening. He was rewarded with a shower of dirt, several worms, some tiny centipedes and grubs.
“Soil!” cried Hero. “And shallow soil at that!”
Eldin began to use his sword in a sawing motion, cutting through thick turf above until a dim beam of light dropped like a shaft into the miles-deep staircase. They began to work frantically then, lifting at the slab and sliding it, gradually moving it to one side; and in between bouts of straining they would saw and hack at the turf as the gap grew ever wider.
Then, after a small landslide of dirt and tiny scuttling things, putting every last ounce of their combined strength to the task, they again bent their backs and
heaved at the slab. With a ripping of rootlets and turf and an even greater deluge of loosened soil, finally the slab slid to one side, leaving a gap through which they could scramble into the field above. There, side by side, they lay on their backs astounded by a darkening evening sky and bursting with gladness at the sight of wispy, slow-moving clouds. But their joy was short-lived, for in the next moment—
The stench hit them …
That awesome stench of death and decay and things long corrupted and fallen into putrefaction. The overwhelming fetor of the open tomb. They gagged, and if their stomachs had been full, surely that monstrous smell would have emptied them.
“Only one place in all the dreamlands could possibly smell like this,” gasped Eldin as he turned green.
Hero nodded, his hands to his mouth and nose. “Right,” he gagged. “Zura—and these must be the charnel gardens!”
The Aerial Armada
Beyond any shadow of doubt this was Zura. That fact was obvious now that the adventurers had time to study their surroundings. For quite apart from the smell—perhaps even explaining some of it—they saw that they lay in a field of diseased grass studded with leaning tombstones, and that the earth within each small plot had been pushed up from below! Oh, yes, this was that land where graves are unquiet and corpses noisy as well as noisome, and it reflected hideously the subterranean city of slabs from which the pair had escaped into this, its external extension.
Staring at the dark soil of the disturbed graves, Eldin dryly commented: “Big moles in Zura, eh?” But Hero only grimaced at his joke. Then the older man said no more but fashioned a pair of nose- and mouth-masks from his thoroughly ravaged jacket. Fastening these to their faces and tying them behind their heads, the pair were able to breathe more easily. Only then did they rise cautiously to their feet, improving their view of the place. What they saw was not reassuring. Their field of tombstones and open graves was only one of many, and endless rows of lolling slabs reached to a horizon of
megalithic mausoleums whose morbidly carved columns reared into the sky and formed the ramparts of the city Zura itself. What did surprise them, however, was the apparent absence of life—or death, as Eldin had it.
“I agree,” said Hero, “there is a strange dearth of death about the place—the mobile variety at any rate—though certainly I can smell where it’s been.”
“It’s not where it’s been that worries me,” said Eldin, “but where it’ll be next. I mean, what do corpses do evenings? Where’s the night life in Zura? Or rather, the night death.”
“Dunno,” answered Hero, stretching. “Maybe they’ve all rotted away—or perhaps Kuranes figured out a way to finish them off.”
“So where do we go from …
get down
!” Eldin hissed the final instinctive pair of words as, without other warning, a great slanting shadow fell over them. They dropped to their knees behind a huge headstone, turning their eyes skyward to gaze in awe and wonder at the flying ship which sailed slowly into view from high above the crumbling stone facade of a nearby mausoleum.
One ship, two, half-a-dozen—no, an entire armada of black ships under black sails—their octopus figureheads gazing balefully ahead through eyes painted the color of blood. And now the adventurers knew where the inhabitants of Zura the land were: manning the sky-fleet of Zura the Princess!
“Keep your head down!” Hero whispered his warning as the ships passed overhead in a silence more dreadful than a peal of mad bells. “If just one of her zombies chooses to look overboard at this very moment …”
But no one looked overboard, and the black ships sailed on with
The Cadaver
in the lead, high over Zura
the city and climbing through rays of late sunshine into the evening sky. Their course lay to the west, their destination—
“Serannian!” Hero hissed, the short hairs rising at the back of his neck. “It can only be Serannian.”
“She’s going to do it,” Eldin gasped through his facemask. “Shoot Serannian right out of the sky!”
“Unless we stop her!” Hero snapped.
Eldin’s heart sank as he recognized the desperation, the frustration, the trapped action in his friend’s voice. “Stop her?” he repeated the younger man. “Are you crazy?”
“Maybe,” answered Hero, his voice hardening, “but that’s what Kuranes hired us for, isn’t it? I mean—can you really imagine what it would be like? Serannian, falling out of the sky …”
“But
how
are we going to stop her?” Eldin demanded. “She’s already airborne—Zura and all her gang and her entire fleet. Like a swarm of great locusts in the sky.”
“No,” said a quiet, muffled voice behind them, causing them to snatch at their swords in a slithering of steel, “not her entire fleet. You were right, Hero—she’s low on zombie-power. She didn’t have enough corpses to man all of her ships. She had to leave one of them behind.”
The adventurers had whirled at first sound of that muffled half-familiar voice. They had dropped into defensive crouches, blades outstretched and snarling lips drawn back from clenched teeth; but now, in a moment, their jaws dropped and their eyes widened in disbelief as a masked but recognizable figure stepped out from behind a cracked and leaning tombstone.
“Dass!” they gasped then in unison. “Limnar Dass!”
“At your service,” Dass replied with a bow and a
sweep of his arm. “And delighted beyond words to see you, who I had thought never to see again.”
“But how?” inquired Eldin, sheathing his sword and grasping the captain’s outstretched hand. “You fell right off that damned volcano! We heard the rope snap.”
“I fell a short distance, aye,” Dass nodded. “And I banged my head on the way down. When I woke up it was morning and I was covered with a pile of small rocks and a layer of dust. There was no sign of you two. In the daylight it was easy to get down from the peak and I soon made my way to Bahama. I hired a fisherman to get me off Oriab and he put me ashore east of Zura. From there I made my way here on foot. All of this took a few days, of course. I’ve spent today hiding and watching the zombies prepare the fleet.”
“But how come you stumbled on us right here, right now?” asked Hero.
“When I saw the zombies leaving the city to man the ships, I stole into the city and found the place where Zura makes her green gas. I took a vial of gas and was on my way back to the sky-docks when I heard voices. Since the zombies don’t talk a lot I knew you must be human, and when I got close enough I recognized your voices.”
“But—” Eldin began, and Limnar cut him short with:
“Listen, let’s get back to the sky-docks. Now that there are three of us, maybe we can fly that ship I mentioned. I’m a sky-captain, remember? And on the way you can tell me how
you
got down off that volcano, right? But let’s hurry. If we’re going to do something about Zura, it will have to be fast.”
He led them to an area where acres of massive blocks of stone formed a square raised platform, its surface covered with capstans, iron mooring rings and many coils of thick rope. In one corner of the platform a lone
ship hung suspended in midair, moving gently from side to side in the evening breeze. The ship was moored fore and aft, port and starboard, and a rope ladder dangled from deck to platform.
Making their way across the sky-dock to where the ship was moored, the adventurers finished telling Dass their tale, and as they reached the ladder he made them the following offer. “Listen, you two: no matter the outcome of this battle between Zura and Serannian, when it’s all over I would like to come with you in search of a shantak-bird’s egg.”
“You’re on,” said Hero at once.
“Damn right!” Eldin agreed, “but I still fail to see what the three of us can do against Zura. I mean, what’s one small vial of green gas against her armada of ships with their holds crammed full of the stuff?”
“If we get to Serannian first,” Dass explained, “perhaps Kuranes’ scientists can manufacture the gas for themselves, or his magicians might be able to duplicate it there and then. Either way, we have to try. Incidentally, I’m pleased that you chose to continue with Kuranes’ quest. You could have found plenty of other places to leave the underworld. I believe there are many such.”
“Yes, well—that was sort of an accident,” Hero coughed behind his hand.
“Accident or none, still I’m pleased,” said Dass.
They climbed the rope ladder to the ship and went below decks. Because the ship had been blowing in the breeze, as it were, its odor was bearable. Traces of previous occupation still lingered below decks, however, but they were not overpowering. The three were able to take off their masks without undue suffering.
In the hold they found many hundreds of gas-filled cannon balls and great carboys of greenly swirling gas
with unplugged balls ready for the filling. Dass took out his small vial and looked at it in disgust. “Well,” he commented, “going into the city for this was a waste of time if ever there was one.”
“You wouldn’t have stumbled onto us if you hadn’t,” Hero reminded.
Dass replaced the vial in his pocket and they went back up onto the deck. “I reckon we can fly her,” said Dass, “but only just. I had a look at her engine down there and it seems in good working order. Her flotation compartments are a bit smaller than on Kuranes’ ships; that’s because she needs the room for her armaments. You realize, of course, that we’re going to have our work cut out? She’s a big ship.”
“Aye, we can see that,” growled Eldin. “Ah, well, let’s get at it. After all, Zura and her dead ’uns have an hour’s start on us.”
While Dass gave the ship a final check over, Hero and Eldin began carting flammable materials up the rope ladder and onto the decks. When the sky-captain was ready for shoving off, he asked them what they thought they were up to.
“Eldin has a thing about fires,” Hero explained. “He likes to see places burn—especially places like Zura, the city. So, as we fly over that great tomb, we’ll drop a few fire-bombs on her.”
“Fine,” Limnar agreed, “so long as you don’t set fire to the ship as well!” After a moment’s thought he added, “In fact it’s a great idea. I noticed some axes in the hold. Why don’t you get them out and do a bit of work above decks? There’s a lot of unnecessary, very heavy woodwork up here. If we’re going to overtake the armada and get to Serannian first, we’ll need all the buoyancy we can muster.”
Half an hour later, aboard a ship which looked radically
different now—literally trimmed to the bone—the adventurers sweated to carry out Limnar’s orders as their craft rose up and cleared the outer walls of the deserted city of the dead. And as soon as he gave them the signal they were ready with torches, setting fire to anything that would burn and kicking the blazing masses overboard. Down below the city smoldered at first, then caught fire and finally blazed as the night wind took hold of the flames and raced them uproariously through the rotting streets.
Climbing higher into the night sky, they looked back and down upon a city burning from end to end. It was as if the wind had been waiting for just this moment—as if all of the good old gods of dreamland approved the actions of the three and were aiding them in their efforts—for it now seemed that Zura’s stones themselves were burning, blazing up in a glorious and cleansing mile-wide sheet of furnace heat.
Then they were up above the clouds and that malodorous land was lost from sight, and high overhead the stars of night peeped down in friendly fashion as the black ship sailed into the west …
 
An hour before midnight, when the wind was steady and the ship flew herself, Limnar sprang a pleasant surprise on the adventurers. In his bag he had a loaf of bread, some cheese and a small packet of tea. They sat together on the stripped-down bridge and munched hungrily while Eldin brewed tea with which to wash down their frugal but satisfying meal. Afterward, as the adventurers leaned on a part of the rail they had found impossible to remove and watched the reflection of the moon in the Southern Sea far below, Eldin asked Hero: “What do you suppose will happen when Zura sees us coming up behind her?”
“Umm? Oh, Limnar says we’ll go far over the top of the armada. We’re about a dozen zombies and a whole lot of gear lighter than the ships in Zura’s fleet. He reckons we’ll catch up, too, provided the wind doesn’t change. In the morning we’re going down to a couple of hundred feet. I’ll fashion some fish hooks and there’s plenty of twine aboard. We’ll eat well tomorrow. Right now, though, I reckon you should get some sleep. I’ll give you a shake in about three and a half hours, when it will be my turn. Limnar says he’s been sleeping well and doesn’t need it; but I know you’re tired, and I certainly am.”
“Say no more,” said Eldin gratefully. He found a large coil of rope and curling himself up in its well fell asleep immediately, knowing no more until Hero wakened him. Using the same bed, Hero too soon fell into a deep sleep. And the night seemed to pass in a twinkling …
 
“Up, lad, quickly!” came Eldin’s urgent growl as he almost dragged the younger man from his nest of ropes. “We’ve company.”
For a moment, his mind given over to wonderful dreams within dreams—having forgotten where he was and what he was about—Hero was lost. Then, with the early morning sun striking beams of light into his eyes, he remembered. “Company? You mean we’ve caught up with Zura’s armada?”
“No,” Limnar Dass called down from the helm, “the Wanderer means that someone’s caught up with us!”
“Eh?” said Hero, frowning. “What are you two going on about?”
“Look up there in the sky,” Eldin replied. “Behind us—about a quarter of a mile and closing rapidly. Now then, what do you see?”
“I see—” Hero paused, squinting his eyes against the unaccustomed sunlight. “I see gaunts! Seven or eight of them.”
“Ay,” Eldin grimly nodded, “that’s right. And if you look closer you’ll see that one of them’s an especially big bugger—and that he has a rider on his back!”

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