Ship of Dreams (21 page)

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Authors: Brian Lumley

BOOK: Ship of Dreams
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“Majesty,” said the other, “with your permission … I’ve already done so!” And all of them, including Kuranes, burst into glad laughter.
 
The Curator stood in night-black shadows on the top floor of the dark and silent Museum and gazed west at the fabulous city of Serannian. Ineffably strange and monstrously metallic, he was motionless as some suit of alien armor.
He knew that there were human beings in the city with designs on certain of his possessions, knew also that they were on their way here even now. Out on the face of the Cerenerian, less than a mile away and lightless as a pirate, one of Kuranes’ ships lay in wait; and this also the Curator knew. He knew many things, this anomaly in Earth’s dreamland, including the difference between good and evil, between right and wrong. The
difference between a shantak’s bird’s egg and a giant ruby …
Now, with the very faintest whir of miniature mechanisms, his head tilted to gaze skyward. Black as night that sky, and cloudy, but bright as day to the Curator. Four gaunts silently circling, and others keeping their distance. And the four were burdened with a pair of black-garbed human figures. A strange blue gleam came into the Curator’s crystal eyes.
After a moment or two there came the very lightest of bumps upon the Museum’s roof, as if a pair of doves had alighted there, but the Curator knew their purpose—knew even their weight, the temperature of their skins, the number of hairs standing excitedly erect upon their necks. And he waited silently in the shadows as they lowered themselves from the roof and in through a hole blown in the Museum’s wall by one of Zura’s cannon balls.
In another moment the pair were tip-toeing down the length of the Museum’s upper hall, and now they paused at that massive open cabinet wherein a thousand eggs—from that of the tiniest hummingbird of jungled Kled to that of the great roc of Hnareth—were housed in all their diverse beauty. All except the egg of the shantak-bird!
Confounded, the adventurers turned to one another. Frowning, Eldin jerked his thumb toward the huge cabinet and raised his eyebrows in puzzled inquiry. Hero shrugged and cast about large-eyed and anxious in the darkness. And silently, unseen, the Curator glided forward, his crystal eyes glowing a metallic blue and firmly centered upon the pair who stood wrapped in indecision and black disappointment.
With a second shrug, Hero turned to the windows
where they looked toward the southeast. Eldin joined him and they vainly searched for a latch or some other form of fastening. While they were thus occupied, the Curator loomed gleamingly large out of the shadows behind them. And in the same instant, finally the two sensed his presence. Hair standing on end, they whirled, gazed into blue-glowing crystal eyes, reached suddenly spastic fingers toward swords—
—And froze as the blue glow bathed them in waves of light!
The Curator had no need of stealth now. He clanked around the pair and stepped up to the window, which slid easily to one side at his approach. The adventurers saw him clearly—saw every move he made—but were completely incapable of movement. Only their eyes were alive in bodies utterly bereft of will.
Now the Curator’s gaze went out across the Cerenerian and found Limnar’s ship where she rocked gently in darkness. The light in his eyes turned shimmering silver, shot out from his face and lit the ship in a blinding glory …
 
High over the Museum where he rode his great gaunt in cool night air, Gytherik was dazzled by the light. For a moment he jerked his gaze away, then slitted his eyes to look again. Two tiny figures were moving rapidly, automatically along the silvery beam from Museum to ship, their speed slowing as, at the end of their ride, they were gently deposited upon the deck. Then the silver beam blinked out.
By the time the gaunt-master set his grim down on the deck of Limnar’s ship, Hero and Eldin were just beginning to recover from their paralysis. Limnar and his crew, still astonished, surrounded the pair where they
sat in an unbelieving daze. Then Gytherik saw the large, pear-shaped object which Hero held in his trembling hands and pounced upon it with a joyful whoop.
For of course it was the dark red egg of shantak-bird …
Two men sat in bamboo chairs on the porphyry balcony of a rather exclusive tavern high over the harbor of Bahama. Below them, haphazardly terraced, the many flights and levels of the town went steeply down to the wharves, beyond which the night stars floated on the mirror surface of the harbor. Sweet scents of summer suppers, cooked outdoors in the warmth of early night, floated up to them where they sat lost in reverie.
Eldin’s mind gentled thoughts of the girls he and Hero had found on their first night in the town, virgin twins well educated—and well past the marrying age—who had fallen in with the adventurers with a willingness previously outside the Wanderer’s experience. It had been as if they deliberately sought defloration, and of course neither he nor Hero had anything special against that. For one idyllic week they had played escorts and lovers to these beauties, but always with the faint suspicion that there was something mercenary or at the very least dilettantish in the attitudes of those ladies. Even now the twins, Ula and Una, were taking scented baths in apartments paid for by the adventurers,
and soon that wily pair of worthies would put aside their exotic drinks and go up to them.
As to why Hero and Eldin were here in Bahama on the Isle of Oriab: well, why not? Hero had never visited here before, and the Wanderer had always told the most fabulous and outrageous tales of the place. Moreover, this was that island where loomed those hollow mountains whose roots went down to the underworld. Gytherik had been headed this way, and so they had been willing to go along with him. Alas, his impatience had precluded their own involvement in the rescue of his father; for having spent little more than a day with them aboard Limnar’s ship, Gytherik had said his farewells, mounted his great gaunt and departed with his grim—not to mention the shantak’s egg—to do the job on his own. Doubtless all had worked out as desired and both Mathur and his gaunt-master son were now back home in Nir. At least it suited Eldin’s purpose to think so.
As for Limnar Dass: having put the adventurers ashore he, too, had taken his leave of them. He had his own woman in Serannian, whom he intended shortly to marry, and so would not allow himself to be tempted by Baharna’s fleshpots or the females who frequented them. And since Gytherik had long since gone off on his own … well, Limnar really had no excuse now for the avoidance of his new duties. And so he had sailed away from Oriab, and the last the adventurers had seen of him was his ship of dreams, far out on the Southern Sea, rising up from the water and cleaving for the clouds.
As Eldin mulled over these not unpleasant, slightly poignant thoughts, Hero was involved with rather blacker visions. Namely, what he would like to do to a certain thief if only he knew who he was and where to
find him. For only last night, in the absence of the adventurers and their lady friends, their rooms had been entered and most of their money stolen. This had been a not inconsiderable purse, a personal reward from Kuranes, and its loss might well have proved embarrassing. Fortunately they had been able to pay their bills with their golden medals of heroism, but to actually part with those hard-won honors had not at all been to their liking.
Still, they were all paid up for once, and they still had a tond or two, their good new clothes, and the companionship of the lovely girls upstairs. But for that damned thief, they might easily have idled away another fortnight here. Hero pictured himself crushing the windpipe of their unknown malefactor.
“Not if I got to him first,” said Eldin.
Hero started. “Eh? Can you read minds then?”
“You were growling to yourself,” the Wanderer pointed out. “And you were curling your lip a bit.”
Hero was forced to give back a wry grin. “It’s just that being a thief,” he explained, “I hate being robbed! And talking about robbery, it was your turn to get the drinks two rounds ago.”
Eldin nodded affably. “I thought you’d missed it,” he said. “Are you sure you want another? Ula and Una will be wondering where we are.”
“They’ll not go off the boil,” Hero answered. “Damn me, I can’t understand how two such ladies retained their virginity for so long! Can you? I mean, they’re man-eaters. Why, I must have lost twenty pounds!”
“I know,” Eldin grinned. “Wonderful, isn’t it? I’ll get the drinks.” He stood up and passed through bead curtains into the barroom, leaving Hero to return to his dire, vengeful imaginings.
A minute or so later, just as Hero was settling back
into his less than restful reverie, Eldin returned clutching a folded handbill. He was in something of a hurry and his face displayed a slightly lighter color than its norm. Puzzled, Hero asked, “Where’s my drink? And why the worried look?”
Making a visible effort to remain calm, Eldin sat; and in answer to Hero’s questions he spread the poster on their table. It was a WANTED notice and told, more or less, the following tale:
That the twin daughters of the merchant Ham Gidduf of Andahad, a small but rich seaport on the far side of Oriab, had been abducted from their home only ten days before they were to be presented to the twin Dukes of Isharra, who would be visiting the island in their search for suitable brides. The girls had spent the last six years in a nunnery on the mainland until their father could find the right match for them. Ham Gidduf—obviously a rich man—was hereby placing a reward for ten thousand tonds on the head of the abductor, dead or alive, or seven thousand on each head should there prove to be more than one. He also offered a fat reward for any conclusive information. The handbill was to be given wide circulation.
“Where’d you get this?” Hero asked, his voice calm as his mind raced.
“From a big, hard-looking bully-boy,” Eldin answered. “Half-a-dozen of them just came into the bar, all armed to the teeth. They look like freelance bounty hunters to me.” As Hero stood up, the Wanderer parted the bead curtains a little and peeped out. “Oh, oh!” he warned. “One of them is talking to the proprietor—and another is chatting with the old boy who has the room next to ours.”
“Did they see you duck out here?” Hero asked, his voice tight now.
“I don’t think so,” Eldin answered. “Why should they watch me? Do I look like … like an abductor? No, don’t answer that.” Still peering out through the curtains, he stiffened.
“What is it?” Hero hissed.
“That’s torn it!” Eldin answered. “The one who was talking to our next door neighbor is looking this way, and he’s got a sly grin on his face. And … yes, here he comes!”
“Get behind the plant,” said Hero.
As Eldin ducked behind a huge potted palm, Hero quickly seated himself facing the curtains. He sprawled casually in his chair and toyed with an empty tankard. A moment later the curtains parted to admit a short, brutish-looking thug with the build of a rhino. Straight up to Hero he stepped, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword. “David Hero?” he growled.
“Um?” said Hero laconically. “Did you say something?”
“I said, is your name Hero?” the other loudly repeated as Eldin slipped out from behind the palm and came up behind him.
“That’s me,” said Hero, making as if to stand. The thug began to slide his sword from its scabbard but had moved it less than an inch when Eldin delivered a rabbit punch that would have felled a roc. Hero caught him as he fell and lowered him quietly to the floor. He turned to Eldin.
“Right,” he said, “let’s go!” They stepped to the balustrade, swung their legs across and began to climb down toward the precarious roofs, spidery bridges and narrow, steeply-angled streets below.
“Oh, let’s go by all means,” said Eldin. “But go where?” Hero made no answer.
They climbed down onto a street narrow as a ledge
and paused for a moment in friendly shadows. Suddenly, somewhere up above, the night came alive with muffled cries of astonishment rapidly turning to outrage. Moments later there came loud and grateful sobs of relief in well known female voices, and finally hoarsely shouted orders and clattering sounds of hot pursuit.
“Now that the girls are no longer virgins,” Hero whispered, “I don’t suppose these Dukes of Isharra will be any too interested in them.”
“That’s right,” Eldin agreed, “that’s what it was all about. The girls were simply using us, and I think I know why. I’ve heard of this Isharra. Its people are backward types and all ugly as hell, particularly the so-called aristocracy. There’s a goldmine there and the Dukes of Isharra—I’m not sure if they’re real Dukes or if that’s just their name—are the owners. The way I see it, Ula and Una have made damn sure they no longer qualify for the bridal procession! I imagine that when they were ‘abducted,’ they must have messed the place up and left Daddy a ransom note or some such. Now they’ll be able to go home to Andahad again and find themselves a couple of likely lads to fall in love with. If old man Gidduf has bags of money, they’ll manage that all right …”
“You’re pretty shrewd for an old fool,” said Hero. “Those girls made fools of both of us.” He grinned mirthlessly.
“Maybe for the first day or so,” Eldin nodded, “but after that … I think they would have liked to tell us.”
“Except that would ruin the abducted bit, eh?” said Hero cynically. “Well, speaking for myself, I reckon a man’s head is too high a price to pay for a mere maidenhead—especially when it was offered free of charge!”
“That’s the difference between you and me,” said Eldin. “I have romance in my soul …”
Hero snorted, then cocked his ear upward. Booted feet were running along the streets up there and someone was still shouting orders.
“A romantic, are you?” said Hero. “Well, maybe you are.” He sighed. “I seem to remember that our recent adventures began with accusations of rape and other atrocities. If Ula and Una are telling the tale I think they’re telling right now, we’re about to be accused again!” He moved to the low wall, stepped over it, looked down once, and with the agility of a monkey began to descend.
Close behind him, Eldin grunted, “Aye, and this time you can include abduction—and the dreamlands are full of bounty hunters these days.
And …
you still haven’t told me where we’re going.”
“Going?” Hero replied as he nimbly jumped free of the rough stone face. The moon turned him to a fleeting silhouette in the instant before he lightly landed upon a fairly flattish roof. “Why—we’re going on, of course—we’re going on!”
And together they fled into the night …

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