High druid of Shannara_ Jarka Ruus - Terry Brooks [134]
Gar Hatch was peering over the side of the airship into the murky waters, shaking his head. “That one’s new,” he muttered to no one in particular, then pointed out the massive log that the airship had run up on. He glanced up at the canopy of trees. “Too tight a fit to try to fly her. We’ll have to float her off and pull her through by hand.”
Hatch went back up into the pilot box, advising Pen that he would take the controls. There was no admonition in his voice, so Pen didn’t argue. Together with Tagwen, Ahren Elessedil, and the two crewmen, Pen climbed down onto the tangled knot of tree roots and moved forward of the airship’s bow. Using ropes lashed about iron cleats, they began to pull the Skatelow ahead, easing her over the fallen trunk. Eventually the airship gained just enough lift from Gar Hatch’s skilled handling to break free of the log and begin crawling along the swamp’s green surface once more.
It was backbreaking work. Bugs of all sorts swarmed about their faces, clouding their vision, and the root tangle on which they were forced to stand was slick with moss and damp with mist and offered uncertain footing. All of them went down at one point or another, skidding and sliding into the swamp water, fighting to keep from going under. But, slowly, they maneuvered the Skatelow down the last few yards of the channel, easing her toward the open bay, where the light brightened and the brume thinned.
“Move back!” Gar Hatch shouted abruptly. “Release the ropes!” Pen, Tagwen, and Ahren Elessedil did as they were ordered and watched the airship sail by, the hull momentarily blocking from view the Rover crewmen who were working across the way. When Pen glanced over again in the wake of the ship’s passing, the crewmen were gone.
It took the boy a second to realize what was happening. “Ahren!” he shouted in warning.
“We’ve been tricked!” He was too late. The Skatelow began to pick up speed, moving into the center of the bay. Then Khyber Elessedil came flying over the side and landed in the murky waters with a huge splash. The faces of the crewmen appeared, and they waved tauntingly at the men on shore. Tagwen was shouting at Ahren Elessedil to do something, but the Druid only stood there, shaking his head, grim-faced and angry. There was nothing he could do, Pen realized, without using magic that would alert the Galaphile.
Slowly, the Skatelow began to lift away, to rise into the mist, to disappear. In seconds, she was gone.
At the center of the lake, Khyber Elessedil pounded at the water in frustration.
Chapter TWENTY-FIVE
No one said anything for a few moments, Pen, Tagwen, and Ahren Elessedil standing together at the edge of the bay like statues, staring with a mix of disbelief and frustration at the point where the Skatelow had disappeared into the mist.
“I knew we couldn’t trust that man,” Tagwen muttered finally.
At the center of the bay, Khyber Elessedil had given up pounding the water and was swimming toward them. Her strokes cleaved the greenish waters smoothly and easily.
“You can’t trust Rovers,” Tagwen went on bitterly. “Not any of them. Don’t know why we thought we could trust Hatch.”
“We didn’t trust him,” Ahren Elessedil pointed out. “We just didn’t watch him closely enough. We let him outsmart us.”
This is my fault, Pen thought. I caused this. Gar Hatch didn’t abandon them because of anything the others had done or even because of the Galaphile and the Druids. He had abandoned them so that Pen couldn’t take Cinnaminson away from him. That was why he had been so accommodating. That was why he didn’t argue the matter more strongly. He didn’t care what either Pen or his daughter intended. He was going to put a stop to it in any case.
Khyber reached the edge of the bay and stood up with some difficulty, water cascading off her drenched clothes. Anger radiated from her like heat from a forge as she stalked ashore to join them. “Why did he do that?” she snapped furiously. “What was the point of abandoning us now when we were so close to leaving him anyway?