Bones of the Dragon - Margaret Weis [207]
Tell him I lied when I said I had been to the Dragon Isles before. Tell him it was not Torval nor yet the dragon who brought us here to these sacred isles. It was the draugr, the walking corpse of my dead wife. My wife who haunts my dreams and forces me to play dragonbones night after night for a reason I cannot fathom. I would tell Garn the truth about Raegar, how I met him, how he owned slaves, how he was going to abduct Draya, how he seemed perfectly content to never come back home and then he came back home.
Garn would be able to explain it. He would know what it all meant.
I saved him from drowning. Now the waters are closing over my head. I need him to save me.
Skylan looked at his friend and even took a step toward him. At that moment, Aylaen walked over to Garn. Their hands twined together. They gazed into each other’s eyes. In that moment, they were the only two people in the world. In that moment, each existed only for the other.
The snakes inside Skylan twisted.
“Listen to me!” Skylan shouted, and the men ceased their arguments. “Torval himself has brought us to this blessed haven, where we can rest and eat our fill and repair our ship. We will offer prayers of thanks to Torval and to Vindrash for bringing us safely through the storm. And we will vow to the gods that we will not return to our homes until we have recovered the Vektan Torque.”
The warriors discussed this among themselves and at last agreed that Skylan must be right. The dragon would not have brought them here if there were a curse.
In spite of all that, they might not have agreed so readily, but that no man could stomach more raw fish.
CHAPTER
9
The Venjekar swept between the Pillars of Vektia and entered the Bay of the Pillars. The water here was aqua blue, many shades lighter than the dark blue of the sea. The Dragon Kahg did not diminish his speed. Dragons and men had traveled here since the beginning of time. The only sandbar was clearly visible—a narrow strip of brownish-white sand adorned by a single wind-stunted tree. The dragonship sailed around the sandbar and through the deep water, heading for the shore.
And then, without warning, came the sickening sound of splintering wood. The ship’s forward momentum stopped abruptly. Everything and everyone kept going. Men slammed into the hull. Those, like Skylan, who had been leaning on the rail flew over the side and landed in the water.
The Venjekar had run aground.
Skylan bobbed to the surface. The water was calm and shallow. He could not touch the bottom, but he could see it beneath his boots. He could also see the sandbar and the wrecked dragonship. Beside him, Wulfe was coughing, spitting out water, and looking indignant.
“Can you swim?” Skylan asked.
Wulfe nodded.
“Then head to shore,” Skylan ordered.
From his vantage point in the water, he could see that returning to the ship was useless. The dragonship perched at an odd angle on a narrow strip of sand, the keel buried deep. Even if the ship had sustained no major damage, freeing it would be an immense task.
The tide would make a difference. Skylan had no way of knowing if it was rising or falling, but if they were at low tide, the high tide might float the dragonship off the sandbar.
He swam back to the ship to tell the others to disembark. Skylan glanced at the dragon’s head. He couldn’t help but think that this disaster served the dragon right. Kahg had allowed the draugr to bring them here and then dump them on a sandbar. The eyes of the Dragon Kahg were hooded. Treading water, Skylan could see only a narrow red glint of light, and the light looked angry.
“Unload everything!” Skylan yelled up at those still on board. “Lighten the weight!”
Garn understood, and he and Aylaen and Bjorn began gathering up weapons and shields and the supplies that had survived the storm. They lowered sea chests and barrels over the side. Skylan and those in the water began ferrying them to shore. When the last barrel had been thrown into the water, Bjorn jumped in. Garn and Aylaen went to persuade Treia that she should