The Towers of the Sunset - L. E. Modesitt [104]
Two of the sailors rise quietly and slip past the table. One makes a protective gesture as he leaves the mess room. The third sailor shakes his head, grins, and helps himself to another round of cheese and biscuits.
“That’s why the captain’s got so much sail on, then,” muses the mate. “The other wizard, guess he got the spare bunk in the captain’s cabin. That doesn’t happen often.”
Creslin slowly chews the heavy biscuit, recalling the state of his stomach the day before. “You ever run into the White Wizards’ ships before?”
The mate grimaces. “Once. That was when I first ran off to sea, crew on a Nordlan brig. The captain wouldn’t pay their tax. They burned off the foremast, and the captain. The mate paid, but the owners had him hung. Claimed he supported piracy. Left Nordlan service soon as I could.”
“How close did the wizards have to get?” Creslin sips the bitter and lukewarm tea.
“They came in right close, less than a cable—”
“Cable?”
“Cable’s a little more than four hundred cubits. Anyways, we could see the White Wizard. He stood right up on the poop, next to the captain, and where he pointed, there was a fireball, the kind that burns.”
“Did water stop the fire?”
“It would have, except that anyone who tried got fried with the next fireball.”
Creslin nods.
“Need to be on deck,” explains the mate as he rises. “Hoping you can help us through. Be nice to see those Whites get a dose of their own.” He nods and ducks under the low doorway.
Creslin takes another biscuit. “I wish there were another way.”
Megaera finishes the peach before answering. “Maybe there is.”
“Such as?”
“Why can’t we just avoid them? Use your power over the winds to speed us past them.”
“I suppose we could . . .”
“You want to fight? Given your reactions, I don’t think you enjoy destroying, do you?”
“No. But I’m missing something.”
“Are you, or do you just . . . Never mind.” She takes a sip from the heavy tumbler.
Creslin watches the remaining sailor finish off the cheese and fruit on the other table. Everyone just assumes that he will fight off the White Wizards as if it is the easiest thing in the world—except for Megaera, who insists that he doesn’t have to fight at all. But Megaera believes in the Legend, claiming that all men want to do is to destroy. Is that what he really wants?
What is it that Heldra said so long ago during exercises? “If you lift a blade, you must kill or be killed. Kill cleanly and without regret.”
Are the winds like blades?
Megaera looks up from the half-eaten peach. “Could you think about something else for a while?”
“Sorry. It’s hard to always remember that . . .”
For a time there is silence as Creslin swallows another mouthful of tea, wondering what he can think about. He cannot think about how lovely she looked with her shoulders bare . . .
“Do you have to spoil a perfectly good morning?”
“What did I do?”
Megaera rises suddenly and is through the doorway before he has finished his question.
“That one’s as hot as her hair.” The remaining sailor grins at Creslin.
“Hotter, I think,” Creslin mutters as he finishes his second biscuit. “And we’re just beginning.”
LXIV
HOW WILL HE protect the Griffin?
A good strong rain, with lightning and thunder, will Reduce the effectiveness of the wizards on board the three oncoming Fairhaven ships, but it will not stop the nearly five-score white-clad soldiers from boarding the Griffin. And a more violent storm could be nearly as dangerous for the Griffin as for the wizards.
The green water streams below Creslin’s feet, unseen.
Megaera can counter some chaos with destruction of her own. Creslin shivers, recalling how Megaera’s being is now mixed with Black and White; then he shivers again at her reactions at breakfast on the first morning aboard the Griffin, and her refusal to even come close to him during the past two days. What does she want? A bloodless solution? When everyone is out for his and her blood?
The ship plows into a long swell, and Creslin’s stomach lurches. Unlike the first day, his guts settle, albeit uneasily.
Ice? Enough