Storms of Destiny (61 page)

“Jezzil? Eregard?”

Eregard shook his head. “I’m not hungry,” he muttered.

“I’ve got a demon of a headache.”

“Can’t be any worse than moldy field rations,” Jezzil said wryly, picking up a couple of pieces and popping them into his mouth. He chewed once, twice, then swallowed, grimacing. “Well, at least it’s not moldy.”

Talis sighed. “Later. I’ll let mine dry out a bit.”

Thia just shook her head, turned, and walked away.

Khith followed her. “Please, at least try.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t feel well. I’m not hungry.”

Khith lowered the morsel of seaweed. “Very well. Your skin, it is so fair. Yesterday’s Sun reddened it. We must protect you from it today.”

The doctor spent several minutes swathing Thia in some of their castoff clothing, using its own robe to cover her head and arms. “I’m going to try and sleep again,” she said, and went back to the chunk of driftwood she’d claimed the night before.

Eregard glanced over at the sun, still low in the east.

“We’d all better cover up before long, or we’ll burn like a roast when the spit stops turning.”

Jezzil gestured at the seaweed. “Ordinarily, we’d use mud in the field if we didn’t have protective clothing. But there’s no mud here, so the seaweed will have to do.” He glanced down at his own weathered skin. “I’ll be fine for a few hours.

Then I’ll cover up.”

Talis poked desultorily at the seaweed mat. “How does it live, with no earth to sustain it? What keeps it afloat?”

“I don’t know,” Jezzil said.

“I’ve heard sailors talk about it. They say that they’ve seen these things set afire,” Eregard said. “How could wet seaweed burn?”

“It is not the seaweed that burns, but the bladders that keep it on the surface,” Khith said. The doctor sat down on a plank of driftwood with a sigh. “The weed produces a gas as it takes in sunlight and air, and that gas is incendiary.”

“A gas? Bladders?” Eregard poked the seaweed, trying to dig down through to see what lay underneath.

“Yes, membranes of tissue, very tough, but nearly trans-parent, like those of some anemones,” Khith said. “They in-flate with the gas that the kelp produces as it digests light and air.”

“How do you know so much about it?” Talis said. “You are from the deep forests of the Sarsithe, you said.”

Khith drew its slender, furred body up. “I am a scientist, as well as an alchemist and adept. I studied the natural world in the abandoned city of the Lost Ones. When I left, I had learned to translate their language, albeit poorly. The Ancients created this form of seaweed as an adjunct food source for livestock.”

“Tell me about this city,” Eregard said, fascinated. “Who are—or were—the Lost Ones?”

“They are the people who built the ruins in the Sarsithe,”

Khith said. “I believe they looked much like humans. They once ruled our world; they had great power. Their science was far beyond even the science of my people, much less yours.

And in their last years, they learned to
fuse
magic and alchemy with science. It gave them incredible powers. Before their destruction, there were Adepts among them whose abilities were beyond anything my people ever dreamed possible. They controlled their world, even the weather. When they battled, they did so with weapons that could smite an entire city and leave nothing behind but smoldering, toxic rubble and dust.”

Jezzil glanced up. “What you describe sounds like the Great Waste, which lies east of Chonao lands. They say a man can safely travel there for three days, but if he stays much beyond that, he is doomed. Treasure hunters scavenge there for precious metals and gems, but they can reach only the edges of the deposits in a day. That gives them a day to search and to collect, and then a day to return. If they take longer, they fall ill, and often die, of a wasting illness.”

“From my reading in the Lost City, I believe that the Lost Ones were responsible for the Great Waste,” Khith said. “But their records grew so chaotic at the end, one cannot be sure of anything.”

Eregard leaned closer. “Do you think they wiped themselves out? Reduced their cities to ruins, buried in the jungle?”

“It is possible that they were responsible for what happened to them …” The doctor paused.

“Or?” Eregard breathed.

“But some of their records seem to indicate that they faced an enemy even greater than they were—a terrible enemy that was not of this world. There are hints in their texts that this may have been so.” Khith paused. “It was very difficult for me to decipher their language, and often I was uncertain as to the meanings of words.”

“Lost cities and lost history! I’m intrigued,” Eregard said.

“I’d love to go there.”

Jezzil gave him a glance. “I’ll never be a scholar, I’m afraid. If you go there, I’ll be your bodyguard, and do some hunting. That sounds far more interesting to me than poring over dusty records.”

Eregard glanced up. “Thia’s sitting back up. I’m going to go check on her.” He picked up several of Khith’s seaweed concoctions, grimaced, then manfully gulped one of them down, trying to chew as little as possible. It was salty, chewy, and slimy, but he managed to swallow it. “Maybe I can get her to eat something. We have to stay strong enough to watch for a ship.”

“I’m worried about her,” Jezzil said. “She’s too thin as it is.”

Eregard rose and slogged over the seaweed, trying to ignore the way the footing underneath rose and sank as it took his weight. It was the first time he’d been alone since he’d awakened, and his “repast,” noisome as it had been, seemed to have cleared his head.

The events of last night came rushing back, so vividly that he stumbled and almost splashed down into the seaweed. He managed to catch himself at the last moment, but he was frowning as he realized that not once had Talis looked at him today, much less spoken to him.

He sighed.
Is she angry because I started, or because I
stopped?
From observing the way Talis acted around men— as opposed to women—the complete absence of any flirta-tiousness in her manner, or any sexual component to her interactions, he feared it was the former. For a moment anger surged.
For the love of the Goddess, I’m only human!

And what was it, after all, but a kiss and a bit of groping?

It’s not as though I raped her!

He vividly remembered the way she had felt in his arms, the passionate response of her mouth, the hardening of her nipples.
It’s just as well we stopped
, he thought.
Ulandra is
the one I love, and it’s Thia I’m going to ask to marry me, if
we get out of this.

He glanced down and scowled at his groin. “Down, you fool. Get down.” He slowed, almost stopping.
Can’t let Thia
see me like this …

Why
had
he stopped? Up until the moment he released her, Talis had plainly welcomed his attentions. He’d felt her shudder with passion when he caressed her. She’d returned his caress, putting her hand up and stroking his cheek, his hair, his— Eregard stopped dead, and just as it had last night, his arousal died as he remembered.
It was the collar. I felt her
touch this bedamned collar.

The Prince put his hand up to his slave collar, felt the groove he’d worn in the iron.
I should have made them take
me to a smithy so I could get it taken off,
he thought bitterly.

He began walking again, and in a few more strides reached Thia. She was huddled on a silvery plank of driftwood, with Khith’s robe pulled over her head, shielding her face and arms from the Sun.

“Good morning,” he said, sitting down beside her. “I brought you breakfast, m’lady.”

Thia peered out at him, turtle fashion, her face in shadow from the shrouding garment. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t think I can.”

“You have to try,” Eregard urged. “I felt much better after I forced a little something down. And we need to stay alert, watch for any ships that might come along.”

Carefully, he picked at one of the little bundles and offered her a scrap of seaweed that was fairly dry. “See if this will go down. It’s just a bit of seaweed.”

Thia hesitated, then took the bit of vegetation. She regarded it, resolutely closed her eyes, popped it into her

mouth and tried to swallow. She gagged, clamping both hands over her mouth. Eregard could see her jaw muscles working, and finally saw her swallow.

“Good!” he said. “In a few minutes you can try another bit. I’ve managed to get it down, see?” He popped another tidbit into his mouth, chewed once, then swallowed. “Nothing to it, and it made me feel much better.”

Thia smiled wanly. “You shouldn’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

“You will if you eat a bit,” Eregard said. “Here, just a bit more seaweed now.”

They sat together, talking desultorily, while Eregard got Thia to eat nearly a handful of the damp seaweed. She refused to try the grubs, though. In a few minutes her color improved and she looked a bit livelier. The Prince told her about the Lost Cities of the Sarsithe, which captured her attention.

The day dragged on. Eregard wrapped his shirt around his head, feeling the prickly tightness that meant sunburn on his cheeks. He’d never been so thirsty. After a few hours it was difficult to think about anything but water, or cold beer, or ale, or tea, or …

Resolutely, he forced himself to watch the horizon. They were sitting back-to-back, with each castaway responsible for watching a designated quadrant. His back was to Talis, and he was uncomfortably aware that not once that day had she spoken to him, or even looked at him. It pained him to be on the outs with any of his companions. In some ways, Khith, Jezzil, Thia, and Talis felt more like family to him than his own family ever had.

As the Sun lowered toward the west, Thia, sitting next to him on the plank, made a tiny moan and slumped over into his lap. “She’s fainted! Doctor!” the Prince cried.

Khith hurried to her side to examine her, pinching the skin of her wrist, smelling her breath, and peering into her eyes. “She is unconscious,” the doctor said. “She needs water. I have been saving a few swallows for all of us in my water flask …”

The Hthras took out the flask and looked questioningly around the circle. “Give it to Thia,” Jezzil said. “My share anyway.”

“Mine, too.” Talis and Eregard spoke as one. Eregard hadn’t spoken in some time, and just moving his mouth made his cracked lips split. He tasted blood.

Khith nodded, and carefully gave Thia the last of their water, sip by slow sip. She did not rouse, but swallowed.

“That is the end of it,” the Hthras murmured, stowing the empty flask back into its bag.

“What about the brandy?” Talis asked.

“It would do more harm than good, in her condition,”

Khith replied. “Besides, there is almost none left.”

“Oh,” Talis murmured, looking away. She cleared her throat. “Another beautiful sunset,” she said, gazing westward. “We should—”

She broke off and leaped to her feet, pointing westward.

“Look! Look!”

“A ship?” Jezzil was beside her in an instant. With his soldier’s training and physical conditioning, he’d fared the best of all of them, except for Khith. “Where?”

“Not a ship!” Talis said. “A sea serpent!”

Eregard shaded his eyes against the setting Sun, scanning the water, and a moment later saw it. It was coming straight for their seaweed island.

“In all the times I’ve sailed the Narrow Sea, I’ve never seen one,” he breathed. “Some of our court naturalists have claimed they’re extinct.”

The creature grew larger as it approached. Eregard, Jezzil, and Talis stood together, watching in fascination. It was enormous, nearly the length of the
Pride
, its body as thick around as a ship’s wheel. The head, which was held up, out of the water, resembled that of a frilled lizard more than a snake. Its scales were a deep golden-amber, and its frills a brilliant green. As it drew even nearer, they could see its eyes, large, lidless, and black.

The creature propelled itself by undulating its tail back and forth in the water, and it moved as fast as a ship under sail.

Eregard stood enthralled, watching it glide by their refuge. At one point he thought it turned its head to look at them, but he couldn’t be sure.

“A marvel of the natural world,” Khith, who was still crouched over Thia, observed. “We are truly blessed.”

“It’s the symbol of your royal house, isn’t it?” Jezzil asked.

Eregard nodded. “The sea serpent, rampant, against the rising Sun, upon a field of azure.” He lowered his voice, pitching it for Talis’s ears alone. “Talis, about last night …”

She gave him a quick, hard glance, and whispered, “Eregard, nothing happened, remember?”

“All right,” he said after a moment, feeling obscurely disappointed.

“Good,” she breathed, and gave him a wry smile. Eregard was so relieved that she was speaking to him again that he tried to smile back, which hurt. She turned back to watch the creature, which was now receding rapidly into the east.

Scant minutes later there was no sign that anything had been there, yet Talis continued to stare fixedly into the distance.

Eregard dropped down beside the doctor and his patient, teetering on the driftwood. “How is she?”

Before Khith could reply, Talis’s hand shot out and gripped the Prince’s shoulder. Her voice was harsh with tightly restrained emotion. “By the Goddess, the symbol of the royal house. Eregard! Do you remember I told you to pray for a symbol?”

“Yes,” the Prince answered, and glanced worriedly at Khith. Had the Sun gotten to Talis, too? “I remember. I forgot to do it, though …”

“Well, the Goddess must have heard,” she said, still in a half-strangled voice, “because I see a
ship
!”

Eregard stood up so fast he overbalanced and splashed into the seaweed, soaking himself to the thigh. “What?”

“Where?” Jezzil demanded.

“Over there! See the sails, all pink with the sunset? Heading southwest!”

The companions stood there, scanning the darkening eastern horizon. Khith saw it first, then Jezzil and Eregard at the same moment.