Treasures of Fantasy - Margaret Weis [20]
The plan was desperate and Skylan wasn’t sure he liked it, for it required subtlety and Garn was always telling him that he was about as subtle as a shield wall made up of ogres.
Skylan started to rub his aching jaw. Seeing the soldiers watching, he lowered his hand. He glanced at his fellow Torgun.
“For good or ill, I am still Chief of Chiefs until the judgment of the Vutmana,” Skylan said to himself. “I am the one who is responsible for my people. I am the one who has to fix my mistake.”
He turned his plan over in his head.
The night deepened. The soldiers lit a lantern and gathered at one end of the ship to play some sort of game involving pebbles thrown out of a box onto the deck. The game seemed childish to Skylan. There was no strategy involved. One man threw the pebbles and the others placed bets in advance on how many he would toss. The game was simply an excuse to gamble. Small wonder the soldiers were bored.
Skylan lay on the deck trying to sleep, which proved impossible. Whenever he dozed off, his chains would clank and wake him. He was just about to slip into slumber, clanking chains or not, when he felt a touch on his arm.
Wulfe, sopping wet, squatted down beside him. The boy had been gone all day. Skylan would have once worried about him, but he had learned that Wulfe could take care of himself.
Skylan grunted and rolled over. “Where have you been?”
“Talking to the oceanaids,” said Wulfe. He cast a wary glance at the soldiers. Seeing they were involved in their game and had apparently not noticed that he had climbed over the ship’s side, he settled himself comfortably on the deck.
Skylan yawned and closed his eyes. “So what did your dryads have to say?”
“Oceanaids,” Wulfe corrected. “Oceanaids are different from dryads. Dryads live in trees and oceanaids live in the ocean.”
Skylan was glad for the darkness; Wulfe couldn’t see his smile.
“What did these oceanaids have to say?” he asked drowsily.
“Your gods are still alive. They’re holed up in their Hall, under siege. The Gods of Raj and the Gods of the New Dawn think that your gods have been defeated and now they are going to fight each other.”
“Good for them,” said Skylan.
“The oceanaids told me that a fleet of ships has set sail from the ogre lands. The ogres are going to attack the lands of the Gods of the New Dawn. The oceanaids were going to sink the ships, but then they decided it would be more fun to watch you Uglies kill each other. When that happens, they say all the gods will go away and we faery folk will take back the world.”
Wulfe curled up beside Skylan, pressing his back to his friend’s back to keep warm.
“If that happens, I won’t kill you,” Wulfe told him sleepily. “I’ll let you stay with me. I’ll use my magic to protect you.”
“Why don’t you use your magic to free me from these chains?” asked Skylan.
“Do you want me to?” Wulfe asked, rousing. “I could do it. I was going to, but I was afraid you’d be mad.”
Wulfe had once told Skylan that his mother was a faery princess and that his father had been a wolf. An outrageous lie, but an amusing one.
“Sure. Use your magic,” said Skylan. “Turn my chains into flowers.”
“I can’t work magic on iron,” said Wulfe. “But don’t worry. I’ll think of something.”
He fell asleep and Skylan must have, too, for he dreamed of Torval in his Hall with the other gods, all of them wearing armor and carrying swords, ready for the last battle. The souls of the dead heroes were with them. Skylan looked for Garn, for Garn had died a hero’s death and he should be among them.
Skylan spent all night searching for his friend among the honored dead and couldn’t find him.
CHAPTER
5
* * *
BOOK ONE
The hold of the Venjekar was dismal and dark and cluttered, but it was better than the storage room of the galley, if for no other reason than that it didn’t smell of fish. Aylaen lay down on a blanket, saying she was tired, but Treia was restless and insisted on talking to her about the spiritbone.