Treasures of Fantasy - Margaret Weis [28]
Skylan rose slowly to his feet. “Release me. I will sail the ship.”
“Coward!” Sigurd sneered, spitting the word from the side of his mouth.
The others by their baleful expressions agreed with him.
“I will not die in chains,” Skylan said. “And I swear to Torval I will not die without first taking my revenge on the man who betrayed us.”
Bjorn and Aki muttered agreement and it seemed they might join him, for both stood up. Sigurd barked a sharp command. Erdmun whispered something and Bjorn, casting a glance at Sigurd, sat back down. No one else raised his head.
The Torgun could not always rely upon the dragon to sail their ship, for the dragon was often away on his own business. In that instance, the Torgun would raise the sail or row the ships themselves; each warrior sitting on his sea chest, plying an oar.
Skylan reached down to his sea chest and yanked it open. Wulfe stared up at him. Skylan gave a nod and the boy, relieved, scrambled out. The soldiers all laughed and even the stern Zahakis smiled. Raegar glared, not amused.
“What is he doing here? That boy is the spawn of daemons!” Raegar said, seething. “Throw him over the side.”
“The boy is just a boy,” said Skylan. “If you want me to sail the ship, I will need his help.”
Zahakis looked across the sea at Acronis. The galley’s crew was raising the sails. The galley had two—one in the center and one in the front. The sails billowed, catching the wind, and the galley began to glide through the water. The Legate stood on the deck, watching the proceedings on board Venjekar. He could not hear what was going on, but he could undoubtedly guess. Acronis, seeing Zahakis’s glance, nodded his head. The Legate was impatient to return home.
“Strike off this man’s chains,” said Zahakis. “Do not remove the leg irons. I don’t want him tempted to take a swim. As for the boy, he does look dangerous, I admit, but I think twelve armed soldiers can handle him.”
His men grinned. Raegar muttered something and stalked off.
He must be questioning his god about now, Skylan thought. Either that or asking Aelon to send down his holy fire to consume everyone on board, starting with Zahakis.
They took the manacles off Skylan’s wrists and freed him from the chains. With Wulfe’s help, Skylan raised the Venjekar’s single sail, then he pointed to the stern to the single oar-like rudder.
“I must use that to steer the ship.”
“I will come with you,” said Zahakis. He placed his hand on the hilt of his short sword. “In case you decide to run the ship into a reef, I will take Raegar’s advice regarding the boy and throw him overboard.”
Skylan grasped hold of the tiller. He felt it bite and steered the ship so that the wind caught the sail. The galley was well ahead of them. The Venjekar followed in her wake; the lighter, swifter ship soon gained upon the massive galley.
“You are a wise young man,” said Zahakis, taking his place alongside Skylan. “Sometimes it takes more courage to live than to die.”
“I’m alive for one reason,” said Skylan coolly. “So I may have the pleasure of killing you. After I gut Raegar.”
Zahakis smiled briefly and shook his head. Leaning on the rail, he gazed out over the sea.
“I am thankful that dragon of yours didn’t rip our heads off,” he said, and he added as he walked off, “but wherever the beast does its fighting, I hope it wins.”
The Venjekar and the Light of the Sea put into shore that night to take on fresh water and send out hunting parties. Finding game had proved a failure on the Dragon Isles. The men could see the tracks, but traps and snares caught nothing and hunting parties returned empty-handed.
Raegar took advantage of the opportunity to transfer from the Venjekar to the Light of the Sea. He did not take Treia with him. He still blamed her for his failure to command the dragon.
After the ship made landfall, Treia and Aylaen were permitted to leave the hold. Treia watched