Treasures of Fantasy - Margaret Weis [22]
Aylaen folded the dress. She was about to place it back inside the chest when something fell out of the folds and landed on the deck with a thud.
“What is that?” Treia asked, blinking, unable to see in the dim light.
The knife was small, the kind used by fishermen to cut fouled lines and gut fish. Aylaen picked it up, touched it gingerly. The blade was sharp. She slipped the knife into the top of her boot.
“Only a brooch that fell off the dress,” she said. “There’s nothing else in here.”
“Are you certain?” Treia said suspiciously. She came up behind Aylaen and tried to see over her shoulder.
Aylaen was annoyed and about to tell her sister she could look for herself, when she gave a little gasp. The spiritbone lay at the bottom of the chest.
“Sister, I found it!”
Aylaen lifted the spiritbone and sat back on her heels, gazing at it in wonder. “How is this possible? The bone fell into the ocean. How did it come to be here?”
“You ‘found’ it!” Treia said with a tight-lipped smile. She snatched the spiritbone out of Aylaen’s hand. “I thought you might ‘find’ it if we looked long enough.”
Treia held the bone close to her weak eyes to study it, as though she feared it might be fake. “I will take it for safekeeping.”
“You can have it,” said Aylaen. “The gods know I don’t want it.”
She thought back to the battle with the giants. If she had stayed on the beach to fight with Garn and Skylan, not gone running out into the sea to retrieve the spiritbone, Garn might still be alive. Aylaen hated the very sight of it.
“I am glad you understand, Sister,” said Treia.
Aylaen didn’t, not in the least, but she was thankful that she could stop searching. She could feel the cool blade of the knife in her boot.
“Are you hungry?” Treia asked. “I will ask for food.”
She climbed the ladder that led up out of the hold and began to beat on the hatch, shouting that Raegar had promised them food and water. Footsteps sounded on the deck above.
Aylaen drew the knife from her boot.
“If Garn will not come back to me,” said Aylaen softly, running her finger over the blade’s sharp edge, “I will go to him.”
CHAPTER
6
* * *
BOOK ONE
The next morning, Zahakis ordered his soldiers to haul the Venjekar across the shallow water of the bay to within hailing distance of the Light of the Sea. The Legate was on the deck, flanked by four archers and ten soldiers, as well as the ship’s crew, who stood ready to raise the sails and set out to sea should flight become necessary. Acronis ordered the rowers stationed at their oars, which were belowdecks, not only to be ready to row the galley out of danger, but for their own protection. Most of the men, not wanting to miss the spectacle of a dragon, crowded close to the oarports in order to get a good view.
Raegar stood on the deck of the Venjekar before the dragonhead prow. He wore a suit of ceremonial armor and a surplice embroidered with serpents eating their own tails, the vestments of the warrior-priesthood of the New Dawn.
The sun shone brilliantly this morning. Raegar, looking at the fiery orb, saw Aelon’s glory, for Aelon ruled the sun, as he ruled all above and below. Skylan, looking at the sun, saw the goddess Aylis glaring at him and the other Torgun warriors in fierce anger, intent on making them sweat.
The prisoners had been herded together at the back of the ship, as far from the prow as possible, with ten soldiers and Zahakis to keep close watch over them. Skylan sat on a sea chest, his feet and hands chained, and wondered what was going on. Erdmun claimed he had overheard one of the soldiers say that Raegar was going to summon the Dragon Kahg and order him to sail the ship. Skylan scoffed at this, as did the other warriors.
“Not even Raegar’s that stupid,” said Sigurd.