Treasures of Fantasy - Margaret Weis [41]
Skylan jumped to his feet, forgetting in his fear for Wulfe that his legs were chained. He tripped and crashed headlong to the deck. Several soldiers ran to the side, searching for the boy. Wulfe came bobbing back to the surface, his arms flailing. The soldiers yelled and pointed.
Wulfe sank again. Zahakis shouted for one of the men to dive in after the boy when, without warning, an immense wave reared up from a calm sea. The wave rose higher and higher, until it hung poised over the Venjekar like a hand ready to smack a fly, then crashed over the bow.
The Venjekar heeled. Men grabbed anything they could find to keep from being washed overboard. The deck canted. Skylan clung desperately to his chains and stared in astonishment to see Wulfe rush past him in a great gush of seawater. The boy fetched up against a sea chest and lay on the deck, coughing and spitting up water.
The sea calmed instantly, but it was a sullen calm that sent waves slapping against the sides of the hull. Zahakis knelt beside Wulfe, pounding him on the back and asking him if he was all right.
Skylan had thought he’d seen faces in the wave, faces of beautiful women, beautiful enraged women with sea-foam hair. He didn’t have time to think whether he believed what he’d seen or not. The angry soldiers crowded around Zahakis, urging him to let them toss Raegar overboard. Skylan crawled over to Sigurd and handed him the key.
“Tell the others to unlock the manacles and then pretend they’re still locked. Not you,” he added, reaching down his hand to prevent Sigurd from unlocking his own manacles.
Sigurd looked at him, frowning.
“We’re going to fight tomorrow,” said Skylan. “How will it look if Zahakis comes to unlock our manacles and finds them already unlocked?”
Sigurd took a moment to think this over, then gave a nod and handed the key to Bjorn, whispering instructions. Bjorn swiftly unlocked his manacles and passed the key to Erdmun. The key traveled down the row of warriors. A few fumbled with it, trying to find the keyhole. The sound of the key scratching against the metal seemed loud enough to be heard back in Vindraholm, and Skylan winced, certain that the soldiers must hear it, too.
None of them were paying any attention, however. Zahakis had quieted their fury, and ordered them to wring out their clothes and spread their bedding to dry and assemble their gear, which was strewn all over the deck.
Zahakis, his face grim, walked over to confront Raegar. “You are lucky I don’t do what the men want and throw you overboard.”
Raegar began to sputter. “First the jellyfish, then the wave. This was all the boy’s doing.”
Zahakis walked off.
“Let him live and you will be sorry!” Raegar called after him.
Zahakis said something Skylan couldn’t hear. Another wave slapped the ship. Raegar went to the hold, lifted the hatch, and stomped down the stairs. Zahakis came over to stand in front of Skylan, who tensed, acutely aware of the key making its way down the line. He saw, out of the corner of his eye, Grimuir palm the key and keep still.
Skylan grinned up at him.
“I’ve heard that urine causes the pain of the jellyfish sting to ease. I would be glad to piss on you, Tribune.”
Zahakis shook his head and muttered something and continued on his way.
He has forgotten the key, but he will recall it soon enough, Skylan thought, and he looked down the line.
Grimuir was busily unlocking his fetters. He handed the key to the warrior next to him. Wulfe was waiting next to Aki, the last man in the line. When Aki had freed himself, he gave the key to Wulfe.
The boy jumped to his feet and ran off, dropping the key quietly on the deck, not far from where Zahakis had been standing when he flung it off. Sometime later, one of the soldiers stepped on it and took it back to Zahakis. Skylan breathed a sigh in relief. So far, so good.
The soldiers were wiping the saltwater off their swords and polishing their armor to make certain they didn’t rust. Zahakis filled a helm with seawater and was soaking his hand. The Torgun pretended to