Shadow of a Dark Queen

Erik said, “Nakor, how?”

 

 

“Tell you later. You gave me a great idea! Now go! Leave soon!” The little man hurried back toward the chandler’s, and Erik took a deep breath and turned. He willed his exhausted body into one more run and set off to look for Calis and the others.

 

At the far end of the estuary, Erik found Calis, de Loungville, and Sho Pi working hard at stoking a fire. Two dead guardsmen near by told him someone had objected.

 

The rain increased in tempo and Erik found himself soaked to the skin as he reached Calis. “Nakor says to get a boat and leave, now.”

 

Calis said, “There’s too much here left intact.”

 

“He said to tell you he’d take care of it. He’s thought up a great trick.”

 

Instantly Calis dropped a long board he was about to toss on a sputtering bonfire and said, “Did you see any boats?”

 

Erik shook his head. “But I wasn’t looking for any.”

 

They hurried back up the road until they came to the first stone stairway leading down to a lower section of the docks, where some small fires still smoldered. The rain was starting to fall in earnest, a drenching downpour that obscured the mystic arch that now hung more than half the way between the opposite bank and the city.

 

Peering through the rain, Erik said, “There’s something out there.”

 

He pointed. Calis said, “It’s capsized.”

 

They moved along the edge of the estuary, and more than once thought they had seen something only to find an overturned hull or smashed bow. Then Sho Pi said, “There! Moored to a buoy!”

 

Calis tossed aside his weapons and dove in. Erik took a breath and leaped after him. He followed his Captain by the sound of splashing more than anything else. Each stroke threatened to be his last as fatigue and cold seemed to leech what little strength Erik had left.

 

But then he came alongside the craft. It was a fishing smack, with a deep center compartment half-filled with brine to keep the fish fresh. The single mast lay along the port gunnel, lashed in place. “Any small-boat sailors?” asked Calis.

 

Half falling as he pulled himself inside the boat, Erik said, “Just what I learned on the Revenge. I’m from the mountains, remember.”

 

De Loungville peered inside the sail locker. “No sails, anyway.” He reached down along the gunwale of the boat and found two pairs of oars.

 

Calis sat down and took one pair and fit them in the oarlocks, while de Loungville cut the boat free from the mooring buoy. By the time Calis had taken a third pull, de Loungville had unshipped the second set of oars and was pulling along in time with Calis.

 

Sho Pi found a rudder and tiller and set them up, while Erik sank deeper into the boat. He was soaked to his skin, battered, and exhausted, but he almost gave thanks for being able to simply sit and not have to move.

 

“Anyone see Roo?” asked Erik. “Or Jadow or Natombi?”

 

De Loungville shook his head. “Where’s Biggo?”

 

“Dead,” replied Erik.

 

Then de Loungville said, “Find a bucket. We’re going to be swimming if we keep taking on water.”

 

Erik looked around and in a bait box found a large wooden bucket. He stood there a moment, then asked, “What do I do?”

 

“Look for pools of water, fill the bucket, and pour it over the side,” answered de Loungville. “It’s called bailing.”

 

Erik said, “Oh,” and knelt. The boat had a bilge grate, and he saw water collecting under it. He moved the grate and dipped the bucket, and filled it half full.

 

Water wasn’t coming in save for the rain, and he didn’t have to work hard to keep the water contained in the bilge. Erik looked ahead.

 

A shallow flow out the south end of the estuary provided a direct course into the river’s mouth. Calis shouted to Sho Pi, “Steer that way. The deeper channel for the big ships leads into the main harbor. This smack might be able to steer between the hulks in the harbor, but I don’t want to chance it.”

 

Erik said, “With the chaos in the harbor, we would be trading one mess for a bigger one.”

 

De Loungville said, “Just keep bailing.”

 

Pug sat up, as a strange keening filled the air. It was the dead of night at Stardock, and he had been asleep. He pulled on his robe as the door to his sleeping quarters was pushed open. Miranda, wearing a very short and sheer sleeping shift, said, “What is that?”

 

Pug said, “An alarm. I’ve established wards throughout Novindus, so I could keep track of what’s going on down there without risking calling too much attention to myself.” He waved his hand and the sound ceased. “The city of Maharta.”

 

Feist, Raymond E.'s books