Flight of the Renshai

CHAPTER 42

Crouched on his bit of ship wood in the shadows of the largest warship, Tae Kahn watched rowboats arrive from the other, clustered ships, each containing two or three men. One by one, their rowers called mentally for the lines. A team of sailors dropped hook-ended ropes that the newcomers fastened to giant iron eyelets on either end of their boats. The sailors hauled the occupants up the hull and over the gunwales, where they disappeared from Tae's sight. Moments later, the rowboats fluttered back down, minus an occupant. The man or men remaining freed their crafts and headed back toward their own ships.

When it became clear that the only mind-calls would come from rowboaters needing a lift, Imorelda dropped her coverage and spoke directly to Tae,*You're going to do something stupid, aren't you?* She stood beside him, lashing her tail.

Tae continued to watch, digging out the mahogany-colored wig from his supplies and placing it carefully on his head.*Don't I always?* He counted five generals and no more approaching boats. He guessed each man might command ten thousand men. Assuming the Kjempemagiska, the one they called Firuz, did not directly control a unit of his own, the alsona army might consist of as many as fifty thousand men. Fifty thousand. Tae shook his head. The continental armies might wind up with nearly as many by the time they all gathered, but under many divergent commanders and banners. The alsona, he felt sure, would act with an easy coordination the diverse-background allies could never match.

The cat's tail thrashed harder.*Well, don't expect me to risk my furry neck with you.You can be stupid all by yourself.*

Tae frowned, still calculating. When he put all his knowledge together, combined with logic, he guessed the ships would carry a half measure of sailors, led by the ship's captain, and a half measure of soldiers, led by a commander of some named rank.*All right, Imorelda. Don't come.*

The cat's head jerked toward him, and the tail grew even faster and more jagged in its movement.*You're not even going to try to talk me into it?* *Why would I? You're an intelligent creature; you can make your own decisions.* Tae held out his arms.*Matrinka's been wanting a replacement for Mior, and I imagine one castle's the same as another for a cat.*

Imorelda paced a half circle to face Tae, then sat. Only the tip of her tail kept twitching.*What do you mean?* *Mean?* Tae shrugged.*Isn't it obvious? If I attempt to interact with them but can't send or receive mind messages, they'll know I'm not one of them despite my brilliant disguise.* He adjusted the wig.

Imorelda stared. *Before they kill me, I'll try to send as much information to you as I can, assuming I can reach you.You take the information back to Matrinka and live the rest of your life with her.* Tae tried to look all innocence.*And all her cats, of course. Oh, and your own darling kittens.*

The hair stood up on Imorelda's back, and she hissed.*You don't have to curse me. I'm coming.* *If you insist.* Tae looked at the sky. A crescent moon hung, veiled behind a cottony network of clouds. At the horizon, a pink sky peeked through gossamer strands of blue.*For now, you can sit on my shoulders. Eventually, though, you'll have to stay hidden on their ship.* Tae tried to think of a safe place to put her, but he drew a blank. She made too big a bulge beneath his clothing, whether at the abdomen or back; and she would surely move and give herself away.*Can you do that?*

Imorelda licked a paw and used it to straighten her whiskers.*Can I do that?* Disgust radiated clearly through the words. If she had a speaking voice, she would certainly have mocked him.*A human asking a cat if she can hide. It's like me asking you if you can manage walking on your hind legs.* She turned her back on Tae again.*Cats have been the mistresses of stealth since long before humans existed. Cats twenty times my size would stalk and kill humans before they knew they were being hunted.* She snorted.*Can I hide?*

Tae had no idea where that information came from. He doubted cats had existed longer than humans, and he could not imagine one twenty times her size. Big as a pony. But Imorelda still had a worthwhile point.*Sorry, Mistress of Stealth. Just make sure you don't hide so well that I can't find you.* *You'll find me if I want you to find me.* Imorelda clambered delicately up Tae's chest and arms to spread herself across his shoulders.*I'm not going to get wet, am I?*

Sensing genuine concern in the question, Tae did not joke.*I'll do my best to keep you dry. Just, please, don't panic if you take a splash or two.*

Tae felt her shudder. Imorelda did not like water in general, but she had taken a particular dislike to the salty variety. Or, perhaps, it had more to do with the vastness of the ocean. He imagined tumbling off a merchant ship into the dark and icy depths, watching the ship glide away, oblivious to her loss. Surrounded by water; nothing to drink. A world of fish; nothing to eat. A man would die of exposure or thirst or drowning long before he could swim to shore or find another ship. To a cat, it had to seem the worst death of all.

Looking out for boats, Tae paddled toward the stern. The first edge of sun was just touching the horizon. The meeting had likely not started yet, but he hoped the generals had settled into closed quarters rather than standing on the deck gabbing in the cold morning breeze.*Imorelda, please. I need you to focus again.*

Tae received no reply. Apparently, Imorelda was already scanning, but the alsona were mentally silent. An idea came to him, based on his previous thoughts. He prodded the cat with a finger.

She looked at him.

Uncertain whether Imorelda was set on his mind level, or theirs, he spoke aloud. "Can you bring my mind speech to a place where only one man can 'hear' me?"

Imorelda gave no reply.

Just as Tae assumed she had not heard him, and prepared to repeat the question, she finally answered.*Maybe I could. If he was the nearest of them and away from the others.*

Tae would have liked a more definitive answer, but doubted one was possible. Aside from the elves, Imorelda, Matrinka, and himself, no one on the continent had any experience with mental communication. He supposed he could have gone to Tem'aree'ay for advice, but he doubted Griff 's elfin wife could have helped him much, if at all. Tae had already noticed significant differences between the alsona's mind conversation and the elves' khohlar.*Good enough, Imorelda. It won't ruin everything if more than one sailor hears me. It'll just make things a bit more difficult.* *You mean 'make the incredibly stupid a bit more impossible?'*

Tae smiled.*Exactly.* Then he became serious. His plan would require him to kill an innocent man, albeit an enemy, in cold blood. And, while fully justified by war, it still bothered him. Tae tried to shake the last modicum of guilt with the teachings of his father: "Thought is a man's greatest gift and also his most dangerous enemy. For, though it can save you from any situation, any situation, it can also paralyze you with fear or horror or guilt. Hesitation has killed many a killer and stolen many a thief."

No hesitation, Tae reminded himself. Bold and sure. Hoping Imorelda had gone back to scanning, he spoke to her directly. "Hang on. I'm going to need my hands to climb." Realizing the opening he had just given her, he clarified. "Try not to dig your claws through my neck veins, please. If I bleed to death, we're both plunging into the ocean."

Imorelda gave him a warning jab in the right shoulder but did not bother to reply.

Tae paddled flush to the lead ship's bow, but found nothing on which to hook his flotsam boat. He had no choice but to abandon it, and the pack with their remaining rations, which meant he would have to either find more debris or swim to shore. He believed he could make it, but Imorelda would have to balance on his back, despising and complaining every moment.

Tae nestled his fingers against the wood, pleased to find easy hand- and toeholds amid the barnacles and mollusks clinging to the sides. He moved quickly, concerned about putting his full weight on any bit for longer than an instant. Sailors cursed the job of cleaning the hull, but enough scraping broke even the most tenacious creatures free.

The hull curved outward, then inward, providing an uncomfortable shelf beneath the gunwale that allowed Tae a brief respite. He regrouped there, crouched below sight of the deck. The moon played through the riggings, turning the brown sails to iridescent bronze. When he craned his neck around the bulge above his shelf, Tae caught a glimpse of a sailor messing with the main sail shrouds. He found no one else in his line of vision.

Tae checked his pockets, already knowing what he ought to find. He always traveled light, more so when he could tumble into the ocean at any moment. Now, he carried the wig on his head, a knife, and a few coins seized from the two captured pirates. Those would give him an air of authenticity should he need it. His other pocket held a fist-sized gemstone that Matrinka had insisted he take. Tae knew the alsona would not allow him to buy his way out of anything; if they wanted the gem, they would simply kill him and take it. If they didn't, they would kill him and leave it. Either way, it did him no earthly good.

Yet, now, Tae found a purpose for it. He smiled, clutching it in his fist. "Imorelda, listen." *I'm here,* the cat said mournfully.*Where else could I be?*

Tae could feel the claws pressing through his clothing into his upper back.*Try to carry my voice just to that sailor near the main mast.*

Imorelda shifted position, and Tae lowered his center of gravity to keep from losing his balance.*I see one man. Near that rope tangle.*

Only Imorelda would see a perfectly woven ladderwork and consider it a "tangle." Tae knew they were probably looking at the same man. With the ships at anchor, the alsona only needed one sailor working at the mainsail before sunrise.

Tae nodded, still worried he might catch Imorelda in the wrong phase and accidentally broadcast conversations meant only for her. "If you're ready."

Imorelda loosened her claws long enough to pat his cheek in reply, then ratcheted them back into his flesh. *Man overboard!* Tae tried to put panic into his sending.*Help!*

A worried voice entered Tae's head,*Where are you, friend?*

The flaw in Tae's plan became immediately clear. With Imorelda's aid, his sending might reach only one person; but the sailor's reply could possibly travel farther. *Starboard stern.* Tae appreciated the days he had spent listening to dull sailor talk. It had given him the alsona vocabulary he needed.*Please hurry. I can't hold out much longer.* Rising, he gripped the gemstone tightly in his right fist.

Tae heard running footfalls on the deck. A head and torso appeared suddenly around the gunwale, looking into the water.

With all the strength he could muster, Tae rose up and slammed the gemstone against the sailor's left temple. Surprise registered in the man's dark eyes, then he collapsed across the railing. *That wasn't nice.*

Tae ignored Imorelda. The gem crashed against the alsona's head a second time with a sickening crack, stone against skull. Bracing for the weight, Tae slid the limp form over the railing to ease it, as gently as possible, onto his sloping ledge. Blood twined between Tae's fingers and made a sticky tangle in the other man's reddish hair.

Swiftly, Tae wiped his hand and the gemstone on the hem of his own shirt, then tore off a huge piece. *What are you doing?* *Get down, Imorelda.* Tae barely waited for her to obey before whipping off his cloak. He secured the piece of fabric around the alsona's head to cover the wound he had created.

Imorelda paced around them.*What are you doing?* She poked her furry face into the alsona's.*You've practically killed him, and now you're tending his wounds?*

Tae did not want to lose his focus but knew he had to answer the cat or field an ever increasing number of questions. He still needed her to keep him tuned to the alsona or risk missing important announcements that might determine his knowledge or survival.*I'm not tending anything. I'm just trying to keep blood off my new clothes.* Tae refused to think of the alsona as human, only as an enemy. Even as he did,Tae realized the irony of the strategy, the same one the alsona used to justify slaughtering the people of the Westlands.*Imorelda, stay on their level, for now.You need to keep in touch, so we don't lose each other, but I also have to make sure no one has noticed this man's absence.*

Carefully, Tae worked to strip the man of his foreign clothing. The belt came off first, leather with several small, stitched pockets, each holding an item: a utility knife, a handkerchief, rolled twine, a smear of pitch folded into a thick scrap, a few copper coins, dull metal pins, and some small hooks. All things a sailor might use, stored in convenient locations. Tae made a mental note to see if his tailors could fashion something similar for the Eastern navy.

Aside from the belt, and deceptively light cloth shoes, the clothing came off in a single piece that covered the arms, legs, and torso; it fastened with hooks and eyelets in the front. The whole seemed more suitable for sleep than work, except for the fabric itself. It looked and felt like cotton but with a strange, diagonal double-weave that made it thick, tough, and resistant to tearing. Dyed indigo, it hid most stains, including whatever droplets of blood Tae might have missed. The bottom of the pants flared outward, which, Tae supposed, made them easy to doff in an emergency. It also allowed the wearer to roll them all the way above the knee should warm weather or wet conditions require it.

Matrinka had suggested Tae wear captured clothing from alsona killed in the shore skirmishes. Now, Tae was glad he had refused. As he expected, the sailor's garb little resembled the armor of the attacking soldiers, or even their underpadding. It would have taken him much longer to change, because he would have had to doff battle gear, soaked through and unfamiliar in its latching, before dressing. Instead, it took him only a moment to switch clothing, even with his fingers stiff from cold.

The suit fit reasonably well, a bit generous in all parts, but surprisingly comfortable. The shoes molded to the shape of his feet, skimpy on the sides and top but thickly soled to protect them from riggings and loose bits of wood or metal on the deck. Tae had to add a hole to the belt to keep it from sliding off his hips. He finally glanced at the limp and naked alsona, seeing no signs of life. Imorelda had declared him "practically dead," and Tae trusted the cat's judgment. The wound was clearly lethal. Even if he had survived it, the impact with ocean would finish him, and he would sink like a stone without means to protect his airway.

Tae knew he had to work quickly. As the sun came fully up, his actions might become visible to the alsona aboard the other ships. Careful not to tip his own balance, he shoved the body into the sea. The plop of its landing disappeared beneath the normal creaks and splashes of anchored ships.

Tae motioned for Imorelda to climb back onto his shoulders, and she obeyed. He rechecked his wig, still firmly and properly in place. As he inched to the gunwale, wary of nearby soldiers or sailors who might see him emerge from nowhere, he whispered to the cat. "As soon as we're on board, secrete yourself. Don't let anyone see you, but stay near enough to funnel their mind-words to me. Also, be prepared to leave suddenly."

Without waiting for acknowledgment, Tae popped over the railing, dropped Imorelda to the deck, and tried to appear nonchalant.

Almost immediately, a guttural curse and a set of squeaky wheels broke over the normal sounds of the ship. Tae could hear the sailors' mental chatter, instinctively sifting out mood and content. They spoke of normal, mundane matters; if the general's meeting inconve nienced them in any way, they kept their grumblings private, softly spoken by mouth.

Heart pounding, Tae watched the approaching cart and sailor, wondering if he could truly pass himself off as one of them despite his limited vocabulary. If something went wrong, he would have to kill this man, too. With the sun nearly fully risen, and no good place to hide, it would prove a terrible risk.

The plump, red-faced sailor pushing the cart caught sight of Tae and stopped.

Tae held his breath.

"Do you mind giving me a hand?" The voice held just a hint of irritation, as if he had expected Tae to volunteer rather than wait for an invitation.

"Not at all." Tae mimicked the accent with practiced ease and headed toward the sailor. "Is it going to the generals' meeting?"

"Yeah." The sailor grunted as they both put their hands on the bar. "Can't discuss strategy without stuffing their faces with the best we've got."

Tae chuckled. The problem had less to do with the weight of the cart than its poor construction and maintenance. The wheels needed oil.

The alsona glanced over at Tae. "I've never seen you before. Did you come with one of the generals?"

Tae continued to read tone as well as words. The man seemed curious, not accusatory, but Tae still felt his chest squeeze. "Yes." He described one of the men he had seen coming in the rowboats. "Tall guy. Narrow face. Short beard."

"General Fallon?"

Tae sure hoped he wasn't being tested. "You know him?"

The plump man spit. "Know them all by now. It's not like there're a lot of them." He stopped pushing and motioned for Tae to do the same. "Thanks. Can you make sure it doesn't roll while I open the hatch?"

"Sure," Tae said. He got an idea. "In fact, I'll carry the food down for you, if you want to get back to doing other things."

Hand on the hatch ring, the sailor turned toward Tae. "Really? You'd do that."

"Why not? You're working, and I'm doing nothing but waiting."

"All right." The sailor smiled. "Thanks. That would be great." He hesitated. "Oh, hell. I'm going to be honest with you. They're hard to please."

Tae shrugged. "I'll deal with it."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure. I'm used to serving General Fallon. I know how they think."

"Thanks." The sailor hauled on the hatch. Only faint mumbling emerged from below. Apparently, the generals conversed aloud to keep their discussion private. From Tae's experiences the last several days, he had expected that. This once, it would work to his advantage; he would not need Imorelda's help to eavesdrop. "I owe you."

Tae prepared to ease the basket of foodstuffs and wine from the cart.

"I can help you, at least," the sailor offered, still apparently feeling guilty.

Tae hesitated. He did not know exactly how to keep the generals talking with him in the room, aside from requests, demands, and complaints about the foodstuffs and his service. The only thought that came to him would involve an act Imorelda and Matrinka would call "exceedingly stupid"; but, first, he needed to learn a new phrase in the alsona's language.

Tae hefted the basket, finding it heavier than he expected, and deliberately placed himself into the sailor's path. As he intended, the sailor bumped him. Tae exaggerated the impact, stumbling several steps and juggling the basket.

The sailor apologized, catching hold of the basket to steady it in Tae's grasp. Tae focused on the sailor's words and tone as he tried to make the simple act of catching his balance look difficult.

"That's all right." Tae glanced down the open hatch, eyes widening. "I probably only would have broken my neck."

The sailor gave a more profuse apology, bowing slightly as he did so. "I really am sorry. Why don't I just do it?"

Tae waved him off. "I've got it, and I'm fine. If you could just close the hatch behind me, please."

"Sure. Least I can do."

Tae took a solid grip on the basket. He moved confidently now, not wanting the sailor to insist on taking the job back. He now knew how to apologize, and he expected to do a whole lot of that in the next few moments. He edged down the ladder, placing his feet as carefully as possible. As his head went below the deck, the sailor gently and quietly closed the hatch.

As he did so, something soft brushed Tae's cheek. He stiffened for an instant before dismissing it as a wad of dust or a cobweb, a last breath of wind funneled through the closing hatch. Then, something scraped against his right ankle. Tae twisted away from it. The momentum of the basket threw off his usually impeccable timing. His foot touched down on empty air instead of the rung he expected. His free hand caught another too hard, slamming painfully against iron, and he felt himself starting to fall.

Instinctively, Tae let go of the basket to secure his hand- and toeholds. Abruptly realizing he might garner a bit more sympathy and less rage if he went down with it, he went against every survival trick he ever knew and followed the plummeting basket.*Look out!* he tried to send in warning.

Bottled wine, bread, and crockery tumbled from the falling basket, bouncing from the iron rungs. Glass chimed against metal. Splashed with bits of glass and droplets of liquid, Tae covered his face and throat as he fell, hoping to land as nearly on his feet as possible.

Tae hit the ground hard, tumbling through a mess of butter, squashing a fine white loaf, and feeling hunks of glass pressing into his skin. He landed, face first, in the basket, which skidded across the floor.

A deafening silence followed.

Careful not to dislodge his wig, Tae freed himself from the basket to look at the generals. The nearest three had leaped from their seats, wine puddling at their feet. Four remained at a large table that contained three oil lamps and a large map of the southern, eastern, and western coasts of Tae's continent. Tae's gaze lingered longest on the being at the head of the table. Seated, he towered over the others, even the standing generals. Tae guessed he was at least half again as tall as King Griff. He had coarse features, his nose obscenely broad and bulbous, his ears as big as a man's hand, and his jaw as wide as the top of his head. He stared at Tae through narrowed dark eyes, his wide lips drawn tight in a frown.

Tae scrambled to his feet, apologizing at least twenty times as he bowed repeatedly, lower each time. He tried to simulate the sailor's most conciliatory tone and added at the end, "I couldn't possibly be more sorry, and I will clean up every bit of this mess immediately."

The giant, obviously Firuz the Kjempemagiska growled out, "What's your name, sailor?"

Tae swallowed hard, not having to feign fear. He knew from his conversations in the dungeon that the Kjempemagiska would not hesitate to tear an alsona in half, burn him alive, or roll him in a vat of scalding acid. He did not fully understand their conventions of naming. It seemed best to use a name he already knew was alsona. He kept his head low, dodging the giant's gaze. "Jaxon, my lord."

"Well, Jaxon. Perhaps after you've cleaned this mess and are prepared to bring us more food, you'll have the wisdom to make two trips."

That's it? The Kjempemagiska did not seem nearly as cruel as the imprisoned alsona had suggested. I don't suppose they can punish every infraction with death. Otherwise, they would lose their servants: if not to murder, then to paralyzing fear, escape, or mutiny. "Yes, my lord. Thank you, my lord. How wise of you, my lord."

Tae set to the task of cleaning, attempting to appear eagerly efficient while actually lingering over the task.

The standing generals retook their seats.

The Kjempemagiska went back to business. "They have armies on how many beachfronts currently?"

The general Tae now knew as Fallon responded. "We believe three, my lord. Two on the south coast, with mountains between them, and one on the west coast."

"None on the east?" someone asked incredulously.

Tae casually turned his head toward the table to see one of the generals tracing the coast of his own realm.

"It's wide open."

Another man spoke as Tae returned to picking up the largest shards of glass and laying them in the basket. He had known bringing the Eastern forces westward would open his coast to attack. The alsona could take the entire country with little resistance, but the same geographical concerns that kept the East separated from the West most times would come into play.

Another of the generals pointed out what Tae already knew. "Wide open, but essentially useless. This band of mountains cuts the eastern part of the continent off from every other place. There's only one workable pass, and that's guarded by a large force here."

Tae did not have to look to know where "here" was. The East's only connection to the remainder of their world was the pass onto the barren Western Plains, where the Eastern army now massed. He set to gathering the smaller shards of glass. He appreciated the cloth lining the basket; he would not need to go above decks looking for rags to sop up the spillage.

"That could also work as an advantage." A new voice this time. "If we take the eastern quarter of the continent, we can fortify it. So long as we protect that pass, we're safe.Then, once we have magical forces, we can go over the mountains and attack from every direction."

Firuz' voice was ice. "You're awfully free with the lives of your masters, Kalka."

Kalka apologized as profusely as Tae had. "You're right, of course, my lord. I wasn't thinking."

A tense silence settled over the group. Tae paid them no obvious attention, trying to look absolutely absorbed in his work. He could only guess at the details. Apparently, they intended for the alsona to fully front the battle, keeping the Kjempemagiska safely home until needed. That boded well for the allies, at least until the war reached that critical stage.

Apparently trying to defuse the situation, Fallon cleared his throat. "We haven't checked the northern shores, my lord. North of these mountains…"

Northern Weathered Range, Tae filled in, still on the floor working to clean up the mess.

"… it's uninhabitably cold, by our reckoning."

Except to Northmen, Tae finished. And they're just crazy.

"Where, exactly, are the beachfronts?" someone asked. "Here, I assume, for one. And here."

Tae wished he could see where they indicated, but looking too often posed an unaffordable risk.

"Correct," Fallon said. "And the third one's here, on the west side. They have the largest army concentrated here."

Tae knew that corresponded to Bearn.

"They only have about a third as many men here and even fewer here."

The Western Plains and the open west coastline. Tae used the lining cloth, and the napkins, to mop up the spilled wine.

"I'm thinking," Fallon continued, "we could send a diversionary force toward their main body, then hit them hard on the west coast. It might take a week or so for their main force to reach us."

Tae dropped the soaked cloth into the basket, using the remaining napkins to dry up the last of the liquid and the tiniest pieces of glass. He glanced up in time to see Firuz' face locked in a tight grimace.

"No," the Kjempemagiska finally said. "We will attack them at their strongest point. If we can't best them there, we will never win this war. And, if we can, we will have won it in a single battle." He added with an actual hint of compassion, "And, in the long run, we will lose fewer soldiers by not splitting our ranks, diversionary or otherwise."

Tae tossed the butter crock and bread into the basket, on top of the sodden linens. If the alsona sailors were like his own people, Tae knew they would not worry about the condition of the ruined food, only about the taste. They would snack well on what the generals would no longer touch, so long as they avoided the glass shards.

The generals' conversation descended into strategic details involving the commanders and battalions; and, with his cleaning finished, Tae found it safest to leave. As the discussion became more finely honed, he understood fewer words, especially punctuated by given names, ship names, and titles.

Swiftly, Tae headed up the stairs, through the hatch, and onto the deck, quickly lowering the door behind him. The instant it closed, something bumped against it. Fear seized him. Did they figure me out? Is someone coming after me? He drew back into the shadows, watching and waiting, but no one came.

Tae set the basket down as his heart rate subsided to normal. "Imorelda," he whispered, glad the cat had followed his orders to hide. She had been right to brag about her stealthiness; even in broad daylight, knowing she was aboard, he could not find her.

The cat did not reply, with presence or mental voice.

"Imorelda," Tae called, a bit louder.

A sailor appeared from around the mainmast and studied Tae quizzically. "Did you say something?"

Tae shook his head, frowning. "No. Did you hear something?"

The sailor did not reply, only studied Tae more carefully in the full sunlight. "Who are you?"

Tae thought it best to stick with as much of his story as possible. "Jaxon. I came with General Fallon." He peered about cautiously, hoping he would spot Imorelda, and the sailor would not.*Imorelda,* he mind-called carefully, worried she might still have him attuned to the alsona's level. She would hear him, but they would also.

The sailor continued to stare. He did not seem to notice Tae's call. Yet, suddenly, his expression changed from curious to suspicious. He drew a wicked-looking knife from his belt, its blade curved and serrated. "Answer my question… Jaxon."

"I did," Tae insisted. "I told you-" It occurred to him abruptly that the man had asked something mentally. And he had not heard. Which meant Imorelda had dropped the alsona's communication level, she had passed beyond range of their connection, or she was dead. No. Tae refused to accept the latter possibility. Then, little things came back to haunt him: the light touch as he descended to the captain's quarters, the lost footing, the bang against the hatch as he closed it. She followed me down. A worse realization struck him. And she's still stuck there.

Knife leading, the sailor lunged for Tae so suddenly he dodged more from instinct than intent. As he whirled to run, Tae seized the handle of the basket and hurled it toward the sailor. He did not pause to see if it hit. Though he had lost his mental connection, Tae could imagine the call of "intruder" touching every mind above decks.

A grunt reached him, then a cry, followed by the pounding of many footfalls on the deck. Tae risked a glance back as he rounded on the hatch. Men raced toward him from the fore, sailors with knives, soldiers with swords, and even a few dragging out small bow-like weapons to which they were fitting strange, metal arrows. He could scarcely believe they had mobilized so fast.

Tae thought he could make it to the rail, barely, if he did not slow; but he would not leave Imorelda behind.With hardly a thought to his own survival, he snatched at the hatch and jerked it open.

Imorelda emerged, puffed up and hissing. Her mind touched Tae's for an instant, then disappeared as she noticed the crowd bearing down upon them.

Saving her proved Tae's downfall. He twisted as he moved, trying to minimize himself as a target. A sword stroke meant to decapitate him gashed through his right shoulder and slammed against bone. The impact hurled him leftward, saving him from a skewering from a second blade but sending him tripping over the hatch, into an uncontrolled spin toward the port stern. *IMORELDA!* Tae screamed, not caring if she had them on alsona level. Without solid wood between them, she should hear him.*Grab on, and don't panic!* Easy advice, impossible for either of them to obey. Another blade carved a crazy arc across Tae's back, partially protected by the resilience of the garment he wore. *Imorelda!*

Appearing out of nowhere, the cat flung herself at Tae's chest. He caught her without slowing, flinging himself desperately toward the rail. The hammer of footfalls, the shouts of the soldiers and sailors, the lap of the ocean all blended into one indecipherable noise. Then, Tae found himself airborne, falling in a spray of salt water and his own blood. Arrows whizzed around him. One nicked his ear. Another crashed into his back, piercing deep through muscle and into his chest. *Got him!* someone crowed.

I'm dead, Tae realized. The peace it brought put the world in slow motion. He heard nothing but a toneless buzz, saw only the vast blueness of the ocean rushing up to claim him, felt nothing but the cold kiss of sea air against his skin. Then, he hit the water with a slap that brought everything back into focus. A mass of arrows fell around him, slowed to a crawl by the thickness of the water, except for the one that pierced his left thigh.

Still clutching Imorelda, Tae dove, watching the water turn scarlet around him. The cat went crazy in his arms, clawing, biting, twisting in a berserk attempt to free herself from the enclosing depths. The more she fought, the tighter Tae winched her, forcing his legs to move. They had to come up in a different spot or risk another hail of arrows or worse. He hoped they would not be able to follow the blood trail. They may not, but the sharks eventually will.

In the shadow of the bow, Tae finally dared to surface, still grasping a sodden and deadly ball of fur.

Once she filled her lungs with air, Imorelda finally gained enough composure to speak.*You stupid, stupid two legs!You tried to drown me!*

Tae's every breath was agony. Bloody froth bubbled from his mouth, and his shoulder ached so badly he could barely move. He wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and surrender to darkness, to let death quietly take away the pain. Imorelda, he reminded himself. You have to get her home. The only thing firmly settled in Tae's mind was that he would not allow a loved one to die for his folly. Imorelda deserved to live, and Matrinka needed the cat for her sanity.*Imorelda, just listen.* Tae let his head sink backward, allowing the ocean to bear its weight.*Tell Matrinka they have five generals and one magical leader.*

Imorelda climbed onto Tae's uninjured shoulder, shaking out the water.*Tell her your damned self.*

Tae appreciated that the mental conversation did not require breathing. He could never have gasped out that many words.*Imorelda, just listen. Five generals and one magical leader.The whole force will come directly against Bearn. Can you tell her that?* *No, you cat drowner. I'm not telling her anything.* *Imorelda.* Tae did not have the energy to argue, even in his mind. He dared not move from beneath the bow for fear of another attack. *Quiet!* Imorelda commanded.

Tae obeyed gladly, the cat balanced on his shoulder. Her wet fur seemed ten times heavier than normal.

A moment later, Imorelda reappeared in his mind.*They're convinced we're dead.*

Anyone who had seen the arrow pierce him, who noticed the sheer volume of blood in the water, could come to no other conclusion. They're half right. I won't make it, but I'm going to get you home safely. Tae kept that thought to himself.*Hang on, Imorelda. I have to tear these clothes. If I don't stop the bleeding, the sharks will come.* The prospect seemed impossible. Tae felt his consciousness fading, and the idea of getting devoured did not seem so bad. At least, the pain would disappear.

Imorelda jabbed Tae with a claw.*So start ripping already.What are you waiting for?*

"I can't," Tae whispered.

Imorelda swiped her paw across his face hard enough to feel like a slap, though she kept her claws sheathed.

Tae opened his eyes; he did not remember closing them. *Get that bleeding stopped. I don't want to be eaten.*

As long as the sailors did not make a habit of shoveling fish entrails over the side, Tae knew he had a bit of time before the sharks found them. He just had to stay well away from the man he had killed to buy more time. I have to do this. For Imorelda. I can't let Imorelda die. Tae unfastened his one-piece garment and tried to tear it, without success. The sturdy, diagonal double-weave made it nearly impossible. He turned his attention to the shoulder area, where the soldier's sword had cut through the fabric. There, he found better leverage and managed to tear it in half. Cold ocean water seeped over every part of him, reviving and strangely soothing.

Maddeningly slowly, Tae managed to make long strips, which he first stuffed into the hole in his thigh. It felt like torture. Sharp pain racked his entire leg, but he finished the job before winding cloth around the wound to hold the pieces in place.

As he worked, Imorelda shifted around to keep from falling into the water. Apparently, she examined Tae as she did so.*Your shoulder looks like rats have been chewing on it. And there's an arrow sticking out of your back.Want me to try to pull it out?*

Tae could not answer quickly enough.*No! Don't touch it.* He knew what might happen. Moving the shaft could cause the tip to shift, possibly into his heart. He would die instantly. And, even if the worst did not occur, removing it would result in more blood than they might be able to staunch.*Is it bleeding at all?*

Imorelda shifted cautiously.*No.* *Better to leave it, then.*

Imorelda finished the sentence,*Until trained healers can get to it?*

Tae nodded, without real consideration. It did not matter if they ever removed it; he was essentially already dead. He only had to survive long enough to get Imorelda to shore. *Your ear's bleeding, too; but not a lot.Want me to direct you?* *Please.* Tae set to the shoulder first, winding material around it in a bundle. Although the thick sturdiness of the cloth had made it difficult to tear, he now appreciated that it also did a better job of staunching and covering the bleeding. He moved delicately, as much to maintain consciousness as to accommodate the cat. Have to get Imorelda home. The thought became an inviolate chant, the only thing keeping him going long after he should have surrendered. *Now the ear,* Imorelda prompted.

Tae wound his remaining strip of cloth around his head, binding the right ear tightly against his skull. As he did so, he started looking for pieces of wood, a bit of flotsam, anything to which he might cling. It did not take him long. The pirates had destroyed many Western ships, and hunks of broken hull haunted this part of the sea. Tae threw his arms over a generous hunk of nailed-together boards and steered them toward shore.