Once upon a Spring morn

12

Uncertainties

Long did they search, but no map did they find, and so they transferred treasure and stolen goods from the pirate ship to the Sea Eagle. And after the swearing of the rovers in the names of Skuld, Verdandi, and Urd to sail to Port Mizon and give themselves over to the king’s justice, “Cast off grapnels,” Chevell ordered. Aboard the dhow the pirates loosened the hooks and tossed them onto the king’s ship. A few members of the crew of the Sea Eagle began coiling the lines to stow the grapnels away, while other members stood by the halyards awaiting the captain’s command. Chevell looked at Princess Celeste and said, “We’ve another corsair to catch.”

“What be our course, My Lord Captain?” asked the helmsman.

“A point sunwise of sunup, Gervaise. That’s where we last saw the third corsair.”

“Aye, aye, My Lord Captain,” replied the helmsman, taking a sight on the sun.

Chevell turned to the bosun. “Pipe the sails about to get us free of this raider, and then catch the best of the wind.”

“Aye, aye, My Lord Captain,” said the bosun, and he set whistle to lips and signaled the crew; the men swung ONCE UPON A SPRING MORN / 101

the yards about, and the Sea Eagle began moving away from the corsair, and as soon as she was free, again the bosun piped orders, and once more the crew haled the yards ’round. . and the ship slowly got under way.

Eyeing the wind pennants and the set of the sails, Chevell nodded his approval, and soon the vessel was running full.

Now Chevell turned to Lieutenant Armond. “The chirurgeon is tending the wounded, but I would have you see to the dead. Canvas and ballast: we’ll bury them at sea.”

As Armond moved forward to fetch the sailmaker, Chevell now stepped to where Roel and Celeste stood at the taffrail and gazed aft at the corsair ship just then getting under way.

“I wonder,” said Celeste, “if the pirates will merely flee or sail back to Port Mizon to face the king’s justice.”

“Were it knights instead of corsairs,” said Roel, “they would be honor bound to do so.”

Chevell said, “They pledged in the names of the Three Sisters, and if they value their lives, they will keep their word, for the Fates have ways of punishing those who break their vows.”

“Oh, look,” said Ensign Laval, a blond-headed youth of twenty summers or so, “they’ve cut away the corpse of their captain.”

In the distance the body fell and plunged into the waters, even as the dhow turned sunwise and picked up speed.

“Oi, now, wait a moment,” said the helmsman, shading his eyes against the low-hanging sun, “that’s not the course to take them to Port Mizon.”

“Maybe they’re tacking,” said Celeste.

“Nay, m’lady,” said Ensign Laval. “The wind’s in our forelarboard quarter, and if they were going to Mizon, the breeze would be off their starboard aft, and they’d just ride it all the way to port. Nay, they’re heading else-wise.”

“Ah, me,” said Celeste, shaking her head, “this in spite of their oath to the Three Sisters.”

“There are those who know not the power of pledges and hold no belief in oaths, Princess,” said Chevell, “and these rovers seem to be among them.” They watched moments more, and it appeared the pirates were jettisoning cargo. “What are they doing now?” asked Celeste.

Chevell sighed. “Throwing their dead overboard.”

“Captain,” asked the ensign, “won’t that put blood in the waters, attract things up from the deep?”

“Aye, lad. That’s why we sew our own in canvas, along with a ballast stone. It would not do to have sharks and things worse following the ship and waiting for a meal.”

“Oh, Mithras!” cried the lookout from the crow’s nest. “My Lord Captain, dead ahead, something dreadful comes.” Chevell stepped to the starboard side rail and leaned outward and peered ahead. He frowned and moved forward and again leaned outward. Then he ran to the bow and but an instant later cried, “All hands, ready weapons!” Celeste whipped her bow from her back and set an arrow to string. Roel took up his shield and drew Coeur d’Acier. They both moved forward and leaned out over the side rail to see what-

“Oh, my!” exclaimed Celeste. “What is it?” A great heave in the water raced toward the Sea Eagle.

“I know not,” said Roel.

But then, even as men took up bows and arrows, cutlasses and cudgels, the lookout cried, “A serpent, Captain. I can see it now. ’Tis a terrible serpent of the sea.” Onward hurtled the great billow, the monster driving the wave before it in its rush through the water.

Ensign Laval stepped to Celeste and in a voice tight with stress said, “We’re in for the fight of our lives, m’lady. Best you go below, for I think arrows will only anger it.”

Her heart hammering in dread, Celeste replied, “Nay, Ensign, I’ll not cower while others fight.” Roel turned to her. “If we do not survive, Celeste, know this: I love you.”

Before she could reply the ship rose up as the leading edge of the billow reached them. “Hold fast!” shouted Chevell.

With her bow and its nocked arrow in her left hand, Celeste grabbed on to the side rail with her right, as up rode the ship and up, heeling over to the larboard side, rigging creaking under the strain. And the boiling wave passed alongside, part of it flowing under the Sea Eagle, and Celeste espied in the waters aflank an enormous creature hurtling past, its eyes like two huge round lamps, its body massive and long and dark emerald with spots of pale jade down its length, and running the full of its back stood a raised, translucent yellow-green fin held up by sharp spines. On sped the immense sea serpent, fully twice or thrice the length of the ship; on it hurtled and on, driving the water before it. And then it was beyond the Sea Eagle, the vessel left bobbing in its wake.

Her heart yet pounding with residual fright, Celeste resheathed her arrow and slung her bow across her back. Then she turned to Roel and slipped past his shield and sword and embraced him and in a delayed reply said, “I know, Roel, I know. Just as I do love you.” And she took his face in her hands and kissed him, even as tears of relief slid down her cheeks.

Laval wiped a shaky hand across his sweating brow and said, “I thought we were deaders for certain.”

“Nevertheless you stood fast and ready, Ensign,” said Roel. He looked past Celeste and in the direction of the racing heave, and said, “Hmm. .”

Celeste disengaged herself and turned to see what had caught Roel’s attention. The wake of the serpent boiled toward the corsair.

Aboard that ship, pirates pointed and shouted, and then some began haling the sails about to catch the wind abeam and add haste to the vessel.

But then, without losing speed, the serpent lunged up and hurtled across the deck of the corsair, the creature’s massive weight plunging the ship down. Across the craft and down and under and then back up and ’round the serpent coiled, the vessel now in its grasp. Wood splintered, the hull burst, masts shattered, and sails and rigging fell to ruin. Pirates leapt into the sea, and the water about them roiled and turned red, and fins sped to and fro as men screamed and screamed, their cries cut short in a froth of scarlet.

And then the ship was gone, masts and sails and rigging and hull dragged down into the depths below, the sea serpent vanishing as well. And all that was left behind was a frenzy of shark fins racing through a crimson swirl of water, and then that was gone, too.

“Well,” said Chevell, taking a sip of wine, “if the map was somehow hidden beyond our search of that vessel, it’s now lost.”

Lieutenant Florien-a tall, long-faced man-

shrugged and said, “My Lord Captain, well did we search, and no map was found.”

Armond nodded his agreement. “Sir, the men did a thorough job. I truly believe the map was not there.” Celeste broke off a piece of fresh-baked biscuit and dipped it in among the beans on her plate. She peered at it a moment and sighed and looked across the table at Roel. “We can only hope it is on the last of the corsairs.” Roel nodded and cut another bite from his slice of smoke-cured ham and said, “Yet if it is hidden on the first ship captured, then we are sailing in the wrong direction.”

“And if on the second ship, it’s gone,” said Officer Burcet, ship’s chirurgeon-short and rather foxlike of feature, with reddish hair and pale brown eyes.

They sat ’round a table in the captain’s quarters: Chevell, Armond, Laval, Roel, and Celeste, along with Florien and Burcet.

“Me,” said Armond, “I believe the rover captain was telling the truth, and the map is on the last of the three raiders.”

“Who can trust the word of a corsair?” said Chevell.

Celeste looked at the captain and smiled. “Did I not hear you mention you were once a freebooter?” Chevell laughed. “That was long past, Princess. I’ve since become a king’s man, and now my word is my bond. Your sire, Valeray, helped me to understand that.”

“My sire?”

“Oui.”

“When was this?”

Chevell glanced ’round the table and raised his left eyebrow and said, “This goes no further.” All the men nodded, including Roel, and Princess Celeste canted her head in assent.

Chevell lifted his glass of wine and held it up and looked at the ruby liquid, glowing with lantern light shining through. Then he took a deep breath and said,

“Many, many summers now long gone, Valeray and I were partners. We were on a, um, a bit of a task, one requiring lock-picking skills. We had just managed to liberate what we had come for, when we were discovered.

It was as we were escaping over the rooftops that I fell and broke my leg. The watch was hard on our heels, and I could not go on. Valeray, who had the. . hmm. . the items, dragged me into hiding and said if they found me, he would make certain to set me free. Then he fled on.

“Well, they found me, and threw me in gaol. A chirurgeon came to set my leg so that I would be fit when hanged. To my surprise, the ‘chirurgeon’ was Valeray.

He did set my leg, and then, with a cosh, he stunned the jailor and managed to get me free. He had a horse-drawn wagon waiting, grunting pigs in the stake-sided wain. He slipped me under the floorboards, where I lay in a slurry of pig sewage, and drove right through the warded gate.” Chevell burst into laughter. “The guards, you see, only glanced at the wain and backed away holding their noses and waved the pig farmer on. And even though I was retching as we went out the portal, my heaves were lost among the grunts of the swine.” Celeste broke into giggles, and the men at the table roared in laughter.

When it subsided, Chevell said, “We got quit of that city, and I asked Valeray why he had risked all to come back for nought but me. ‘My word is my bond,’ he replied.” Chevell took a sip of his wine. “Later, we parted our ways, and soon I became a freebooter-rose to captain my own vessel. But always Valeray’s words echoed in my mind: ‘My word is my bond.’

“Up until then I had not had much experience with honorable men. Yet that set me on my course. I gave up freebooting and took my ship and a good-hearted crew-one I had been culling from among the corsairs-and joined the king’s fleet. It was only long afterward I discovered Valeray himself had been a king’s thief, working for a distant realm.

“Some time after that, there was that dreadful business with Orbane, and I hear that Valeray was key to that wizard’s defeat.” Chevell looked at Celeste. “Sometime, Princess, you will have to tell me how ’twas done.” There came a tap on the door. “Come!” called Chevell.

The door opened and a skinny, towheaded cabin boy said, “Beggin’ your pardon, My Lord Captain, but the sailmaker says all is ready.”

“Thank you, Hewitt. Tell the watch commander I’ll be out at the mark of eight bells. Have the crew assemble then.”

Roel looked at Chevell. “The funerals of those lost in the battle?”

“Aye,” replied Chevell.

They ate in silence a moment, and then Officer Burcet said, “Damn the corsairs. I spent a goodly time sewing up gashes and bandaging heads. Two died under my care. Would that I could have done something to keep them alive.”

“The duties of a chirurgeon must be dreadful,” said Celeste, “dealing with the aftermath of violence as you do.”

“Oui. Even so, there are rewards as well.”

“That’s what Gilles says, too.”

“Gilles?”

“One of the healers at Springwood Manor.” Suddenly Celeste’s face fell. “Oh, I hope he is all right.” When the officers at the table looked at Celeste, questions in their eyes, Roel said, “Gilles was one of those with us when the Goblins and Ogres and Trolls attacked.”

“Ah, I see,” said Chevell. “We can only hope if the men in your band did cross the twilight border, they did so at a place other than where you crossed.” A pall fell upon the table, and from the deck a bell rang six times, the sound muted by the cabin walls.

Finally, Roel said, “How does one cross an unknown border?”

“Very carefully,” said Chevell.

Celeste looked up from her plate. “In the Springwood, in fact in all of the Forests of the Seasons-even the Winterwood-we ask the Sprites to help us. They fly across and back, and report what is on the other side.”

“Why did you single out the Winterwood, cherie?” asked Roel.

Celeste smiled and said, “Sprites do not like cold weather, for they wear no clothing. And in Borel’s realm it is always winter. Even so, we don special garments, with places within where the Sprites can stay warm.

Then we bear Sprites ’round the bound and they help us note what is on the far sides. In the other three realms, no special garb is needed.”

“Ah, I see,” said Roel. “But doesn’t that take a long while to map out a bound?”

Celeste nodded and said, “It is a long and tedious process, and we place markers signifying the safe routes, or note natural landmarks to do so.” Roel nodded. “I see, and there was no marker where we crossed.”

Celeste frowned a moment and then brightened. “Ah, Roel, that works to the good. If men of the warband survived the attack-and they are most likely to have done so, since the Goblins and such followed us-they will be cautious when crossing over. Can they find one, they will fetch a Sprite to help, or rope a scout to cross over. And if we left tracks, they will most likely think we have drowned, for the Sea Eagle has borne us away.” She grinned ruefully. “And here I was fearful for them, when instead they are almost certainly mourning us.” Ensign Laval said, “But won’t that mean your brothers and sister and your parents will be in mourning, too?”

“Oh,” said Celeste, her voice falling.

“Fear not, my lady,” said Chevell. “As soon as we return to Mizon, we will send word of your survival.”

“Ah,” said Celeste, her voice rising.

With her spirits lifted, Celeste set to her meal with gusto. Roel grinned and said to Chevell, “You can report that, thanks to the Three Sisters, the Sea Eagle was at the right place at the right time, and the word of our demise premature.”

“Hear, hear,” said Second Officer Florien, his long face breaking into a smile. He raised his glass in salute.

“Aye,” said Chevell. “I ween we can also thank the Three Sisters for sending the second corsair to the bottom, yet if the map was hidden thereon-” Celeste shook her head. “Non, Captain. Although I do believe the Fates sent that serpent-for those corsairs broke an oath taken in the Sisters’ names-I do not believe the Fates would have done so if the map were aboard.”

Chevell cocked an eyebrow. “Why is that, Princess?”

“Because, Captain, somehow the Fates are tied up in this quest of ours, and Lady Skuld has given me a rede.”

“Lady Skuld!” blurted Ensign Laval. “You spoke to Lady Skuld?”

“Oui.”

Wide-eyed, Chevell looked at Celeste and said,

“Princess, you will have to tell us of this quest you and Chevalier Roel follow.”

Celeste looked at Roel and said, “ ’Tis your tale to begin, cheri.”

Roel nodded and said, “Some summers back my parents arranged a marriage for my sister, Avelaine, one she did not welcome. . ”

“. . and that was when the Goblins and such attacked, the crow flying above and calling for revenge,” concluded Celeste.

“Where is this crow now?” asked the ensign.

“Skewered,” said Roel. “I believe Captain Anton slew it with a crossbow bolt.”

“Then if it was the witch shapeshifted, she’s dead.

Right?”

Roel looked at Celeste, revelation in his eyes, and said,

“Perhaps, Laval. Perhaps. We can only hope it is true.” Again the bell sounded, this time ringing eight. Another tap came on the door, and Cabin Boy Hewitt said,

“The men are assembled adeck, My Lord Captain, and the slain await.”

“Very well, Hewitt.” Chevell stood, the other officers following suit, as did Princess Celeste and Chevalier Roel.

“Captain,” said Celeste as they moved through the door, “if you will allow, I will sing their souls into the sky.”

“Nothing would please me more, my lady,” replied Chevell.

Celeste and Roel were quartered in the first officer’s cabin, and Lieutenant Armond displaced Second Officer Florien, and he in turn displaced Ensign Laval, who then moved to share quarters with the chirurgeon, Burcet.

As Celeste and Roel lay in the narrow bunk, Roel, his voice heavy with fatigue, said, “Thank you for the sweet song, my love. It was well received.”

“The men wept,” said Celeste.

“As did I,” murmured Roel. “It is difficult to see brave men go to their grave.”

“Oui,” said Celeste, but Roel did not hear even that single word, for, exhausted, he had fallen asleep.

Moments later, Celeste followed him into slumber.

Even so, in the wee hours after mid of night, Celeste awakened to find Roel propped on one elbow and looking at her by the starlight seeping in through the porthole.

Celeste reached up and pulled him to her and whispered, “Forever, my darling, forever,” and they made love by the dark of the moon.

Yet for stolen Avelaine, but one dark of the moon remained.