Ninety-six men reported aboard, as ordered. A dozen were men for
whom the order had not been meant, but who could not be sent away.
Missing were a hundred brothers from the old days, before we
crossed the Sea of Torments. Some had died on the slopes. Some were
inside the castle. Some we hadn’t been able to find. But none
of the missing were men who had dangerous knowledge, except Elmo
and the Captain.
I was there. Silent, One-Eye and Goblin were there. The
Lieutenant was there, more baffled than anyone else. Candy, Otto,
Hagop . . . The list goes on and on. They were
all there.
But Elmo wasn’t, and the old man wasn’t, and there
was a threat of mutiny when Silent passed the word to put out
without them. “Orders,” was all he would say, and that
in the finger speech many of the men could not follow, though we
had been using it for years. It was a legacy Darling had left the
Company, a mode of communication useful on the hunt or
battlefield.
The moment the ship was under way, Silent produced a sealed
letter marked with the Captain’s sign. Silent took the
officers present into the cabin of the ship’s master. He
instructed me to read the letter aloud.
“You were right about the Taken. Croaker,” I read.
“They do suspect, and they do intend to move against the
Company. I have done what I can to circumvent them by hiring a ship
to take my most endangered brothers to safety. I will not be able
to join you, as my absence would alert the Taken. Do not dawdle. I
do not expect to last long once they discover your desertion. As
you and Goblin can attest, no man hides from the Lady’s
Eye.
“I do not know that flight will present much hope. They
will hunt you, for they will get things from me unless I am quick
on my feet. I know enough to set them on the
trail . . . ”
The Lieutenant interrupted. “What the hell is going
on?” He knew there were secrets some of us shared, to which
he was not privy. “I’d say we’re past playing
games and keeping things from each other.”
I looked at Silent, said, “I think we should tell
everybody, just so there’s a chance the knowledge won’t
die.”
Silent nodded.
“Lieutenant, Darling is the White Rose.”
“What? But . . . ”
“Yes. Silent and I have known since the battle at Charm.
Raven figured it out first. That’s why he deserted. He wanted
to get her as far from the Lady as he could. You know how much he
loved her. I think a few others guessed too.”
The announcement did not cause a stir. Only the Lieutenant was
surprised. The others had suspected.
The Captain’s letter hadn’t much more to say.
Farewells. A suggestion we elect the Lieutenant to replace him. And
a final, private word to me.
“Circumstances seem to have dictated a shift to the option
you mentioned, Croaker. Unless you can outrun the Taken back to the
South.” I could hear the sardonic chuckle that went with the
comment.
One-Eye wanted to know what had become of the Company treasure
chest. Way, way back in our service to the Lady we had grabbed off
a fortune in coin and gems. It had traveled with us through the
years, through good times and bad—our final, secret insurance
against tomorrow.
Silent told us it was up in Duretile with the old man. There had
been no chance to get it out.
One-Eye broke down and wept. That chest meant more to him than
all vicissitudes past, present or promised.
Goblin got down on him. Sparks flew. The Lieutenant was about to
take a hand when someone shoved through the door. “You guys
better come topside and see this.” He was gone before we
could find out what he meant.
We hurried up to the main deck.
The ship was a good two miles down the Port, riding the current
and tide. But the glow from the black castle illuminated both us
and Juniper as brightly as a cloudy day.
The castle formed the base of a fountain of fire reaching miles
into the sky. A vast figure twisted in the flames. Its lips moved.
Long, slow words echoed down the Port. “Ardath. You
bitch.” I had been right.
The figure’s hand rose slowly, lazily, pointed toward
Duretile.
“They got enough bodies inside,” Goblin squeaked.
“The old bastard is coming through.”
The men watched in rapt awe. So did I, able only to think we
were lucky to escape in time. At the moment I felt nothing for the
men we had left behind. I could think only of myself.
“There,” somebody said softly. “Oh, look
there.”
A ball of light formed on Duretile’s wall. It swelled
rapidly, shedding many colors. It was gorgeous, like a giant moon
of stained glass rotating slowly. It was at least two hundred yards
in diameter when it separated from Duretile and drifted toward the
black castle. The figure there reached, grabbed at the globe, was
unable to affect it.
I giggled.
“What’s so damned funny?” the Lieutenant
demanded.
“Just thinking how the people of Juniper must feel,
looking up at that. They’ve never seen sorcery.”
The stained glass ball rolled over and over. For a moment it
presented a side I hadn’t noticed before. A side that was a
face. The Lady’s face. Those great glassy eyes stared right
into me, hurting. Without thinking I said, “I didn’t
betray you. You betrayed me.”
Swear to the gods there was some form of communication.
Something in the eyes said she had heard, and was pained by the
accusation. Then the face rolled away, and I did not see it
again.
The globe drifted into the fountain of fire. It vanished there.
I thought I heard the long, slow voice say, “I have you,
Ardath.”
“There. Look there,” the same man said, and we
turned to Duretile. And upon the wall where the Lady had begun
moving toward her husband there was another light. For a while I
could not make out what was happening. It came our way, faltering,
rising, falling.
“That’s the Lady’s carpet,” Silent
signed. “I have seen it before.”
“But who? . . . ” There was no
one left who could fly one. The Taken were ail over at the black
castle.
The thing began to move faster, converting rickety up-and-down
into ever-increasing velocity. It came our way, faster and faster,
dropping lower and lower.
“Somebody who doesn’t know what they’re
doing,” One-Eye opined. “Somebody who is going to get
killed if . . . ”
It came directly toward us, now not more than fifty feet off the
water. The ship had begun the long turn which would take her around
the last headland to the open sea. I said, “Maybe it was sent
to hit us. Like a missile. To keep us from getting away.”
“No,” One-Eye said. “Carpets are too precious.
Too hard to create and maintain. And the Lady’s is the only
one left. Destroy it and even she would have to walk
home.”
The carpet was down to thirty feet, swelling rapidly, sending an
audible murmur ahead. It must have been traveling a hundred fifty
miles an hour.
Then it was on us, ripping through the rigging, brushing a mast,
and spinning on to impact on the sound half a mile away. A gout of
spray arose. The carpet skipped like a flat stone, hit again,
bounced again, and smashed into the face of a cliff. The spell
energies ruling the carpet degenerated in a violet flash.
And not a word was spoken by any member of the Company. For as
that carpet had torn through the rigging, we had glimpsed the face
of its rider.
The Captain.
Who knows what he was doing? Trying to join us? Probably. I
suspect he went to the wall planning to disable the carpet so it
could not be used to pursue us. Maybe he planned to throw himself
off the wall afterward, to avoid being questioned later. And maybe
he had seen the carpet in action often enough to have been tempted
by the idea of using it himself.
No matter. He had succeeded. The carpet would not be used to
chase us. He would not be exposed to the Eye.
But he had failed his personal goal. He had died in the
North.
His flight and death distracted us while the ship moved down the
channel till both Juniper and the north ridge dropped behind the
headland. The fire over the black castle continued, its terrible
flames extinguishing the stars, but it shrank slowly. Oncoming dawn
lessened its brilliance. And when one great shriek rolled across
the world, announcing someone’s defeat, we were unable to
determine who had won.
For us the answer did not matter. We would be hunted by either
the Lady or her long-buried spouse.
We reached the sea and turned south, with sailors still cursing
as they replaced lines torn by the Captain’s passage. We of
the Company remained very silent, scattered about the deck, alone
with our thoughts. And only then did I begin to worry for comrades
left behind.
We held a long service two days out. We mourned everyone left
behind, but the Captain especially. Every survivor took a moment to
eulogize him. He had been head of the family, patriarch, father to
us all.
Ninety-six men reported aboard, as ordered. A dozen were men for
whom the order had not been meant, but who could not be sent away.
Missing were a hundred brothers from the old days, before we
crossed the Sea of Torments. Some had died on the slopes. Some were
inside the castle. Some we hadn’t been able to find. But none
of the missing were men who had dangerous knowledge, except Elmo
and the Captain.
I was there. Silent, One-Eye and Goblin were there. The
Lieutenant was there, more baffled than anyone else. Candy, Otto,
Hagop . . . The list goes on and on. They were
all there.
But Elmo wasn’t, and the old man wasn’t, and there
was a threat of mutiny when Silent passed the word to put out
without them. “Orders,” was all he would say, and that
in the finger speech many of the men could not follow, though we
had been using it for years. It was a legacy Darling had left the
Company, a mode of communication useful on the hunt or
battlefield.
The moment the ship was under way, Silent produced a sealed
letter marked with the Captain’s sign. Silent took the
officers present into the cabin of the ship’s master. He
instructed me to read the letter aloud.
“You were right about the Taken. Croaker,” I read.
“They do suspect, and they do intend to move against the
Company. I have done what I can to circumvent them by hiring a ship
to take my most endangered brothers to safety. I will not be able
to join you, as my absence would alert the Taken. Do not dawdle. I
do not expect to last long once they discover your desertion. As
you and Goblin can attest, no man hides from the Lady’s
Eye.
“I do not know that flight will present much hope. They
will hunt you, for they will get things from me unless I am quick
on my feet. I know enough to set them on the
trail . . . ”
The Lieutenant interrupted. “What the hell is going
on?” He knew there were secrets some of us shared, to which
he was not privy. “I’d say we’re past playing
games and keeping things from each other.”
I looked at Silent, said, “I think we should tell
everybody, just so there’s a chance the knowledge won’t
die.”
Silent nodded.
“Lieutenant, Darling is the White Rose.”
“What? But . . . ”
“Yes. Silent and I have known since the battle at Charm.
Raven figured it out first. That’s why he deserted. He wanted
to get her as far from the Lady as he could. You know how much he
loved her. I think a few others guessed too.”
The announcement did not cause a stir. Only the Lieutenant was
surprised. The others had suspected.
The Captain’s letter hadn’t much more to say.
Farewells. A suggestion we elect the Lieutenant to replace him. And
a final, private word to me.
“Circumstances seem to have dictated a shift to the option
you mentioned, Croaker. Unless you can outrun the Taken back to the
South.” I could hear the sardonic chuckle that went with the
comment.
One-Eye wanted to know what had become of the Company treasure
chest. Way, way back in our service to the Lady we had grabbed off
a fortune in coin and gems. It had traveled with us through the
years, through good times and bad—our final, secret insurance
against tomorrow.
Silent told us it was up in Duretile with the old man. There had
been no chance to get it out.
One-Eye broke down and wept. That chest meant more to him than
all vicissitudes past, present or promised.
Goblin got down on him. Sparks flew. The Lieutenant was about to
take a hand when someone shoved through the door. “You guys
better come topside and see this.” He was gone before we
could find out what he meant.
We hurried up to the main deck.
The ship was a good two miles down the Port, riding the current
and tide. But the glow from the black castle illuminated both us
and Juniper as brightly as a cloudy day.
The castle formed the base of a fountain of fire reaching miles
into the sky. A vast figure twisted in the flames. Its lips moved.
Long, slow words echoed down the Port. “Ardath. You
bitch.” I had been right.
The figure’s hand rose slowly, lazily, pointed toward
Duretile.
“They got enough bodies inside,” Goblin squeaked.
“The old bastard is coming through.”
The men watched in rapt awe. So did I, able only to think we
were lucky to escape in time. At the moment I felt nothing for the
men we had left behind. I could think only of myself.
“There,” somebody said softly. “Oh, look
there.”
A ball of light formed on Duretile’s wall. It swelled
rapidly, shedding many colors. It was gorgeous, like a giant moon
of stained glass rotating slowly. It was at least two hundred yards
in diameter when it separated from Duretile and drifted toward the
black castle. The figure there reached, grabbed at the globe, was
unable to affect it.
I giggled.
“What’s so damned funny?” the Lieutenant
demanded.
“Just thinking how the people of Juniper must feel,
looking up at that. They’ve never seen sorcery.”
The stained glass ball rolled over and over. For a moment it
presented a side I hadn’t noticed before. A side that was a
face. The Lady’s face. Those great glassy eyes stared right
into me, hurting. Without thinking I said, “I didn’t
betray you. You betrayed me.”
Swear to the gods there was some form of communication.
Something in the eyes said she had heard, and was pained by the
accusation. Then the face rolled away, and I did not see it
again.
The globe drifted into the fountain of fire. It vanished there.
I thought I heard the long, slow voice say, “I have you,
Ardath.”
“There. Look there,” the same man said, and we
turned to Duretile. And upon the wall where the Lady had begun
moving toward her husband there was another light. For a while I
could not make out what was happening. It came our way, faltering,
rising, falling.
“That’s the Lady’s carpet,” Silent
signed. “I have seen it before.”
“But who? . . . ” There was no
one left who could fly one. The Taken were ail over at the black
castle.
The thing began to move faster, converting rickety up-and-down
into ever-increasing velocity. It came our way, faster and faster,
dropping lower and lower.
“Somebody who doesn’t know what they’re
doing,” One-Eye opined. “Somebody who is going to get
killed if . . . ”
It came directly toward us, now not more than fifty feet off the
water. The ship had begun the long turn which would take her around
the last headland to the open sea. I said, “Maybe it was sent
to hit us. Like a missile. To keep us from getting away.”
“No,” One-Eye said. “Carpets are too precious.
Too hard to create and maintain. And the Lady’s is the only
one left. Destroy it and even she would have to walk
home.”
The carpet was down to thirty feet, swelling rapidly, sending an
audible murmur ahead. It must have been traveling a hundred fifty
miles an hour.
Then it was on us, ripping through the rigging, brushing a mast,
and spinning on to impact on the sound half a mile away. A gout of
spray arose. The carpet skipped like a flat stone, hit again,
bounced again, and smashed into the face of a cliff. The spell
energies ruling the carpet degenerated in a violet flash.
And not a word was spoken by any member of the Company. For as
that carpet had torn through the rigging, we had glimpsed the face
of its rider.
The Captain.
Who knows what he was doing? Trying to join us? Probably. I
suspect he went to the wall planning to disable the carpet so it
could not be used to pursue us. Maybe he planned to throw himself
off the wall afterward, to avoid being questioned later. And maybe
he had seen the carpet in action often enough to have been tempted
by the idea of using it himself.
No matter. He had succeeded. The carpet would not be used to
chase us. He would not be exposed to the Eye.
But he had failed his personal goal. He had died in the
North.
His flight and death distracted us while the ship moved down the
channel till both Juniper and the north ridge dropped behind the
headland. The fire over the black castle continued, its terrible
flames extinguishing the stars, but it shrank slowly. Oncoming dawn
lessened its brilliance. And when one great shriek rolled across
the world, announcing someone’s defeat, we were unable to
determine who had won.
For us the answer did not matter. We would be hunted by either
the Lady or her long-buried spouse.
We reached the sea and turned south, with sailors still cursing
as they replaced lines torn by the Captain’s passage. We of
the Company remained very silent, scattered about the deck, alone
with our thoughts. And only then did I begin to worry for comrades
left behind.
We held a long service two days out. We mourned everyone left
behind, but the Captain especially. Every survivor took a moment to
eulogize him. He had been head of the family, patriarch, father to
us all.