City of Jade

35

ELVENSHIP

MID SPRING, 6E8,

TO LATE SPRING, 6E9

The message awaiting Aylis at Port Arbalin was written in Queen Dresha’s own fine hand:

My dear Aylis:

Some two years past, I received the gift of a small chest of black lacquerware decorated with exotic designs in gold leaf of Jingarian Dragons and landscapes and other such. It originally came from Janjong, to be exact. It is quite a lovely piece, and it would please us most dearly if you would fetch a variety of black lacquerware-bowls, chests, vases, and the like, whatever might strike your fancy-of similar design the next time you and your Captain Aravan are at that port city.

With Our warmest regards,

Dresha,

Queen of Mithgar

And so it was that in the spring of 6E8, Aravan set sail for Jinga to purchase lacquerware-bowls, chests, vases, and the like-as well as a cargo of fine porcelain.

They docked in Janjong, the principal port city of that realm. And even as the Elvenship tied up at the pier, peddlers and merchants selling their wares crowded the wharf, calling out to the crew of the Eroean to come and look at their goods.

When Aylis decided to look for lacquerware as well as to explore the city, Lissa hid in the hood of her cloak, for she would see the city, too. Vex obediently trotted at Aylis’s side, a very light leash ’round her neck-more of a string than a lead-the fox finally submitting to Lissa’s commands to be ignominiously led by such.

And even as they embarked, the hawkers rushed forward, and then shied back, not only at the sight of the fox, but also at the pair of armed and armored Dwarves escorting this person and her familiar, for surely with such unusual guardians and a wild fox attendant she must be a nyuwu , a witch.

Yet one young man braved the escort of fox and fierce Dwarves, and he stepped discreetly to one side of the path and said, “I have been waiting for you, Lady Fox, for I had a dream you would come, and you must see what my father has carved.”

Aylis laughed. “A dream, you say?”

“Oh, yes, oh, yes. In my dream I saw a great ship arrive, and you stepped from it, though in my dream you had no fox.”

Again Aylis laughed, for she had never before had a hawker tell such a tale. “And this carving is. .?”

“Jade, my lady. Jade. The finest of gemstone, and carved by Master Luong, my father. You must come and see.”

“Let’s go look,” whispered Lissa in Aylis’s ear.

“I must admit, I am intrigued,” said Aylis, replying more to Lissa than the youth.

And so “Lady Fox” followed the young man through the streets of Janjong, the merchant heading for his shop, the two Chakka trailing not far behind, their gazes ever on the alert for dangers that might threaten their charge.

And Aylis was led to a stall where the young man, Huang by name, showed her a carving of a jade tower. It was not the tower itself that arrested her curiosity, even though it somewhat resembled the Seers’ Tower at the College of Mages; nay, rather it was the inscription in a strange tongue etched around the base of the figurine. With an arcane word muttered under her breath she read:

Thrice I dreamt the dream

The City of Jade I fled

Nought but shades now dwell

It was a particular form of Ryodoan poetry, yet not of Ryodo was this work. It was instead carved by a Jingarian jade master, or so said Huang, who again proclaimed it was his own sire, Luong. Aylis bought the statuette, but only under the condition that she meet the artist. The young man gave her directions to a dwelling where he and his wife and his father lived, but he warned her that Master Luong was a recluse. Undaunted, Aylis took the jade carving and hailed a jinricksha. The man who pulled the vehicle seemed both surprised and honored as well as awed to have Lady Fox as his passenger, for the word of the witch and her familiar had spread across the neighborhood. And he set off at a brisk pace toward the address given.

Behind her, two Dwarves scrambled into a jinricksha of their own and followed after.

It was the very fact that a lady and a fox came to call upon Luong that the jade master deigned to see this curiosity for himself.

Dressed in silks and soft sandals, he was a man of about sixty years, his hair and beard white and long, his eyes so dark as to nearly be black. When Aylis told him that she had come seeking knowledge about the statuette, he was amazed that she, a foreigner, spoke such flawless Jingarian.

[It did come to me in a dream,] said Luong, as soon as they had settled down upon tatamis, a small tea table between, a steaming pot of tea thereon. As he poured two cups of the pale drink, Luong said, [I don’t know what it means. Not only that, but I suspect it is a form of poetry, one that I have never seen before.]

[It is Ryodoan,] said Aylis. [A strange form that never deviates from its syllabic count-five, seven, five, you see.]

[Ryodoan it may be, but it is not in that language, for I would know; written Ryodoan and Jingarian are much alike. Regardless, do you know what it says?]

[You don’t know?]

[It is not in any language I have.]

[It is strange that you would carve it, then,] said Aylis.

[Yet carve it I did, even though I know not its meaning. As I said, it came in a dream, and I felt compelled to set it in jade.] Luong then turned up a hand toward the statuette, and he looked at Aylis in anticipation.

[These are its words,] said Aylis.

[Thrice I dreamt the dream

From the City of Jade I fled

Nought but shades now dwell.]

[Oh, how mysterious,] said Luong. [Not words that I would choose to carve, nor a dream I would choose to dream, I think.]

[Only sometimes can we choose our dreams,] said Aylis, harkening back to the time she and Jinnarin had learned to dreamwalk. Aylis sipped her drink and added, [Perhaps it was a sending.]

[Sending? Sending? What are these sendings? Are they dangerous? My son Huang had a dream as well.]

[He did?]

Luong nodded. [He said a lady from a great ship would like to see my carving. He said nothing of a fox.]

Aylis nodded. [That’s what he told me.] She laughed. [I thought it but a ruse to get me to see this beautiful jade figurine.]

[No, his was a dream, as was mine. Yet you call them ‘sendings.’ What are they?]

[A message from someone else-a spirit, a lost soul, a Mage-someone who fled the City of Jade. If so, then it is something I cannot trace back, for finding the source of dreams is beyond my ken.]

Luong’s eyes widened. [You are one who can do ‹chiji›?]

Aylis laughed and shook her head. [I have only a bit of ‹yanli›.]

[Then how is it you can read those words?]

In that moment Aylis’s hood sneezed, or so it seemed. Luong reared back, concern on his features.

“Oh, well,” said Lissa, stepping from the hood and onto Aylis’s shoulder. “I gave myself away. Besides, I’d like some tea, too.”

Luong’s mouth fell agape. [I-I. . I cannot believe my eyes.] And he backed away and prostrated himself before the two. [Forgive me, mistress, I did not know you had such ‹nengli›. . such power.]

It took some coaxing for Aylis to get the man back onto his tatami. And when she said that Lissa would like some tea as well, Luong did not call his servants, but rushed out to get a vessel himself. Moments later he was back with a porcelain thimble, and with trembling hands he poured a bit of tea into the improvised cup and proffered it to Lissa, who now sat atop the small table.

In that moment Aylis frowned, and she spoke a word and looked at the figurine. Then she sighed and said to Lissa, “There has been no casting, for it contains no ‹power›.”

“What contains no ‹power›?” asked Lissa, looking up from her drink.

“The statuette.”

Luong looked back and forth between the two females.

[I said it contains no ‹nengli›,] said Aylis, for Luong’s benefit.

[Ah, then, so you can see power. Perhaps that is why you have such a companion and how you can read the words, eh, and mayhap as well speak such beautiful Jingarian?]

Aylis inclined her head in assent, and Luong smiled in his discernment, though his eyes yet held a glimmer of awe.

[Do you remember anything else about the dream?] asked Aylis.

[Only what I etched on the bottom, but I do not understand that either.]

Frowning, Aylis took up the statuette and looked at the bottom. Curving lines were scribed, but she had no idea what they might represent. She spoke another arcane word, yet her ‹sight› revealed nothing further.

Luong looked at Lissa and asked, [What are you called? What folk are you from?]

Lissa shrugged and looked at Aylis. “He wants to know what type creature you are.”

“Tell him I am a sprite of great power, and should he ever speak to anyone of me, I will appear in a whirling cloud and carry him away to a fiery pit of darkness, where he will burn in shadow forever.” To prove her point, blackness suddenly enveloped the Pysk.

[Wah!] exclaimed Luong, juggling his cup.

[You must never speak of her to anyone else,] said Aylis.

[No, no. I am sworn to silence.] Again he prostrated himself before the pair.

Aylis nodded toward the blot of darkness, and the shadow vanished, revealing the Pysk once more.

Once again Aylis had to persuade Luong to return to his tatami, after which they spoke for long moments, yet nothing else was forthcoming about the dream or the figurine.

Finally, Aylis and Lissa and Vex took their leave, much to Luong’s relief, for to have such persons of power in his very own chambers, well, it was all quite beyond his ability to cope. Yet it was but moments after they had left that Luong began a new jade carving. One of a very small person, or perhaps it was nothing more than a tiny statuette.

“City of Jade, eh?” Aravan looked at the small sculpted tower. “Hmm. . There is an ancient legend. One that was old when I first came to Mithgar. It tells of a city carved of jade that fell to some terrible fate. Perhaps this jade carving has something to do with that legend.”

Aravan then turned the statuette upside down and looked at the lines on the bottom. “Hmm. . This could be a map, for it resembles a coastline, yet there are thousands of places along many shores similar to this. Even so, there might be some hint of where to look in the archives of the libraries in Caer Pendwyr. If so, we will look for the City of Jade after we deliver the cargo to Queen Dresha.”

“Good,” said Lissa, taking a small sip of brandy from her thimble-sized cup. “Should we go off searching for a lost city, mayhap at last Vex and I will again have something to do to earn our keep.”

Again Aravan looked at the figurine. He glanced at Aylis and said, “Following this to wherever it leads suits me well, for, as I said, this crew is meant for adventure, seeking out legend and fable. Mayhap this statuette will take us to something rare.”

They sailed the Alacca Straits with their cargo of fine porcelain and black lacquerware decorated in gold leaf with exotic designs. And just ere reaching the jagged rocks known as the Dragon Fangs, they sank two junks and three sampans filled with Jungarian pirates who had foolishly decided to attack the Eroean ; this time the Dwarven crew on the starboard side loosed the fireballs that set the pirate ships aflame. And with falchions and axes and hammers in hand, the sailors and Dwarves grappled and winched and boarded one of the burning ships, the men shouting, Eroean! Eroean! and the Dwarves roaring, Chakka shok! Chakka cor! The pirate crew leapt into the sea rather than face the wild savages of the Elvenship.

That night they celebrated as they sailed southwestward for the distant Cape of Storms.

Southwesterly and southwesterly she sailed, but at last the Eroean came to the shoulder of the cape. And the wind had risen in strength and had risen again, and now the Elvenship beat to the windward into a shrieking gale. For though it was the height of the warm season in the south, the air chilled to frigidity and the wind shrieked in fury, as if Father Winter and Rualla raged together to show just who was master and mistress in this polar realm. Great grey waves, their crests foaming, broke over the bow and smashed down upon the decks with unnumbered tons of water, clutching and grasping at timber and wood and rope, at fittings, at sails, the huge greybeards seeking to drag off and drown whatever they could, whatever might be loose or loosened.

In the teeth of the blow Aravan again ordered all sails pulled but the stays, jibs, tops, and mains. And Men had struggled ’cross decks awash-cold, drenching waves dragging them off their feet and trying to hurl them overboard and into the icy brine; yet the safety lines held fast, and the crew made their way up into the rigging, the frigid wind tearing at them, shrieking and threatening to hurl them away. But the Men fought the elements, haling in the silken sail and lashing it ’round the yardarms and spars, while all about them the halyards howled in the wind like giant harp strings yowling in torment, sawn by the screaming gale.

On the very next watch the wind force increased, and once again the crew was dispatched onto the dangerous decks and up to the hazardous spars, this time at Nikolai’s command, and all jibs were pulled and the mains reefed to the last star. And now the ship ran mostly on the staysails and the upper and lower topsails, the Eroean flying less than a third of full silk.

The following watch Aravan took command, and after an hour or so, the wind picked up yet again, and the Elven captain ordered forth the crew to reef the mains and the crossjack to the full.

“ Diabolos, Kapitan,” shouted Nikolai above the wind, “I t’ink if this keep up, soon we be sailing on yards alone.”

Aravan grinned at the second officer. “Mayhap, Nikolai. Mayhap. But if it’s to bare sticks we go, then backwards we will fare.”

Even though the galley was locked down for the heavy seas, its fire extinguished, still Nelon, ship’s cook, managed to brew tea, and Noddy made his way up through the trapdoor and into the small wheelhouse, the lad bearing a tray of steaming mugs. That he managed to carry the cups in the pitching ship without spilling a drop spoke well of his agility and balance. With a grin he passed the tray about to Aravan and Fat Jim and Nikolai, then disappeared belowdecks once more.

As Aravan sipped his tea, he wiped the condensation from the window and peered at the raging sea. “Vash! Here comes a wall.” Aravan quickly set his cup to the holder and called, “Pipe the crew on deck, Nikolai; we’ll need to change course.” And he took a grip on the wheel on one side while Fat Jim held the spokes across. “Prepare to come about. On the starboard bow quarter this tack.”

At the moment Nikolai opened the trap to go below and summon the crew, a blinding hurl of white engulfed the Eroean , the Cape of Storms living up to its name as wind-driven snow slammed horizontally across the Elvenship.

A sevenday plus two it took to round the cape, sometimes the Eroean seemingly driven abaft while at other times she surged ahead. And at all times the savage wind tore at her, while the greybeards struggled to wrench her down. Snow and ice weighed heavily on her rigging, and Men and Dwarves were sent aloft to break loose the pulleys so the ropes would run free. Tacking northwest up across the wind and southwest back down, Aravan sailed by dead reckoning, for no stars nor moon in the short nights did he see, nor sun in the long days. Nor did he see the southern aurora writhing far beyond the darkness above, shifting curtains of spectral light draped high in the icy skies, as if a strange wind blew out from the sun to illumine the polar nights.

Still, battered by wind and wave, the Eroean took nine full days before she could run clear on a northwesterly course, free of the cape at last, Aravan’s reckoning true, the crew superb in handling the craft and not a Man or Dwarf lost unto the grasping sea. Even so, all were weary, drained by this rugged pass, including her captain, a thing seldom seen by any of the crew. Yet finally the ship’s routine returned to something resembling normality though the winds yet blew agale, but they were steady on the larboard. And running on a course with the wind to the port, mains and crossjack and jibs back full, up into the Weston Ocean the Elvenship ran, the log line humming out at nineteen knots, the Eroean flying o’er the waves.

And once the ship was out of danger, Aravan fell into a deep sleep, and Aylis did not see him awake for a full two days.

A week later across the Doldrums of the Goat the Eroean fared, this time heading north, the ship laden with all sail set, yet moving slowly in the light air-“Slipping past the Horns of Old Billy,” as Noddy had said. Three days it took to cross the calms, three days ere the wind picked up again, now coming from abaft. North-northwest she drove, sweeping through the coastal waters of the wide Realm of Hyree.

Five days under full sail she ran on the northerly trek, the winds steady but moderate, until they came once more unto the Midline Irons, where they unshipped the gigs to tow the Eroean across the placid equatorial waters.

At last the winds returned, blowing lightly down from the northeast, and into these she fared, sailing through the gap between Hyree to the south and Vancha to the north, finally entering into the Avagon Sea along the Straits of Kistan. A day she coursed as the skies turned a sullen grey, and still to the north lay Vancha, but now to the south lay Kistan.

“Sail ho, crimson!” called the foremast lookout. “Sail ho on the larboard bow!”

Nikolai’s gaze swept the horizon forward and left, then stopped. A heartbeat later-“Ring alarm, Noddy, and stand by to pipe crew.”

Noddy hammered a tattoo upon the ship’s bell, and moments later crew and warband spilled onto the deck as Aravan came to the wheel. James stepped to Noddy’s side, but left the bosun whistle in the lad’s hands.

“Where away, Nikolai?”

“There, Kapitan,” replied the man from the Islands of Stone, pointing.

Just on the horizon, scarlet lateen sails could be discerned, a two-masted dhow heading downwind in the general direction of the Elvenship.

“Nikolai, bring the Eroean to a northeast heading. Put this rover on our starboard beam.”

“Aye-aye, Kapitan.”

Aravan turned to the wheelman. “Wooly, ready to bring her to the course laid in.”

“Aye, Captain.”

“Noddy, pipe the sails and then fetch Brekk.”

“Aye, Cap’n,” responded the cabin boy, and he blew the command and then handed the whistle to James and sped away.

As the Eroean came to the new heading, Brekk stepped to the wheel, the Dwarf accoutered for combat. “Where away?”

Aravan pointed.

Brekk looked long, then glanced up at the pale blue Elven-silk against the somber skies.

Aravan said, “Armsmaster, we should know within half a glass whether this Rover will be foolish or wise.”

Brekk grunted and said, “We will be ready.”

Then the Dwarf made a circuit of the ship to all the ballistas, readying the crews of missile casters for battle.

Steadily the Kistanian ship ran downwind west-southwest, and just as steadily the Eroean haled crosswind, northeasterly, up and toward the track of the freebooter. Time eked by, and still the Rover ran on his straight course, as did the Elvenship.

“Keep her on our beam, Nikolai.”

“Aye, Captain.”

“Wooly?”

“Aye, Captain, I’m ready, too.”

“James?”

“Ready as well, Captain.”

“Then pipe away.”

Gradually the Eroean headed up into the stiff wind, now running on an easterly reach. Still the crimson-sailed pirate fared southwesterly, running downwind, the vessel now nearing the Elvenship.

Of a sudden the raider changed course and fled toward the Isle of Kistan.

Down on the main deck, “Kruk!” barked Brekk. “Cowards all. She is afraid to take on Eroean .”

Beside him, Dokan said, “I think the Rover captain didn’t even see us until she was nigh upon us.”

Once again, Brekk glanced up at the cerulean sails against the dark grey skies, and then down at the indigo hull. Finally he looked toward the fleeing ship. Then he sighed and said, “Sometimes I wish we were harder to see.”

Ten days later in the heart of the night the Eroean haled into the wide waters of Hile Bay, and she docked at one of the stone piers below the city of Pendwyr.

All the next day and the one after the cargo was unladed, and new ballast was taken on to replace the weight of the porcelain ware, for it would not do to have the Eroean turn turtle at the first strong wind or great wave. When the ship was empty of cargo and laden with the proper ballast, Aravan had her tugged away from the docks to anchor in the bay.

He set the crew free to “do the town,” and knowing the crew as well as he did, he knew that most of them would try.

The very next morning, Aravan and Alyssa and Lissa and Vex all paid their respects to High King Ryon and Queen Dresha, Aylis and Lissa and Vex standing by as Dresha ooh ed and aah ed and murmured over the golden designs on black, while Aravan and Ryon stepped into the courtyard and flew arrows at distant targets.

After a private midday meal with the High King and his Queen, Aravan and Aylis and Lissa-the Pysk once again hidden in the hood of Aylis’s cloak-and Vex on his string tether, went to the libraries of Caer Pendwyr to see what they could discover about the City of Jade.

They carried with them a small jade statuette on which was carved a haiku in a strange tongue:

Thrice I dreamt the dream

From the City of Jade I fled

Nought but shades now dwell