CHAPTER 45

Just ere dawn, riding an all but spent horse with an exhausted remount trailing after, the kingsman galloped into the streets of Pendwyr. Past the Blue Moon he hammered, where in a suite of rooms a group of Jutlanders waited impatiently for the mutilators and slayers to return. The rider did not know that men in black and gold and orange lay in ambush within. Nor did he know of the kingsguards who even now were patrolling the docks and searching for more pirates, brethren of those who had evidently slain a group of honest Jutlanders and had stolen a ship-the sloop Brise, according to the harbormaster-for who else would have done such a dastardly deed as to slaughter these innocent visitors and just leave their corpses lying about for the wharf rats to gnaw upon. The critical thing the rider knew was that he bore a message from High King Bleys to be delivered into the hands of the lord steward at the caer. He had traveled some twelve hundred miles in twenty-six days, a remarkable journey all told, though he would have arrived sooner had he not lost one of his remounts, and had he not been delayed by illness. Nevertheless, he at last had come to Pendwyr, and now the caer was in sight.

Finally he reached the span across to the castle spire, where he was challenged by bridge warders. Quickly they passed him through.

Lord Otkins, first understeward, was roused from his bed. He was out of sorts, having had but little sleep this nighttide-pirates had escaped, men had been slain, some had been sorely wounded; thieves and cutpurses had fled in the dusk; even the debtors and drunkards were gone. Many escapees were yet at large, though some had been recaptured and others lay dead. And when his man had awakened him, Lord Otkins thought he brought news of the miscreants. But no, instead it was a missive, one from Bleys himself.

Lord Otkins took the folded vellum and broke the seal and read the message within:

Revor

We are with Coron Aider's warband in the Grimwall near Drimmen-deeve. Vanidar, a Lian, brought word of Dara Arin, a Dylvana, who may or may not come to Pendwyr. If she does, she may be accompanied by several others, in particular by Aiko, a yellow warrior woman. Give the Dara aid; let her have whatever she wants, for the mission she follows is vital. Too, tell Dara Arin that I keep no ferrets whatsoever, much less in cages.

~ Bleys

A second sigil from the High King's ring was impressed in red sealing wax below Bleys' signature.

Huah. Well and good. I will keep an eye out for this Dylvana. What is it, I wonder, she wants? And what's all this about ferrets? Bloody odd, that.

Mumbling to himself, Lord Otkins lay back in his bed and pulled the covers up to his chin. He would issue orders later in the day to watch for this Elf. But right now there were more important things to worry about: Blood and guts, man, there had been a prison break!

CHAPTER 46

I think they'll fare along the coast when they discover we are gone," said Egil, eyeing the set of the Brise's sails by the light of the stars above.

"Which way: east or west?" asked Delon.

"East, I think," replied Egil. "That was the direction we sailed to reach Pendwyr, and I think they will assume we will continue that way, fleeing before them."

"Perhaps they'll believe we've doubled back to elude them, and head west instead," said Aiko, now adeck with all the others, all, that is, but Alos, who lay unconscious below.

At the tiller, Arin said, "Speculating on which direction the Jutlanders might take is not as vital as deciding which way we should sail. And until we can choose a destination, let us continue south into the open sea."

"What lies directly south?" asked Egil. "Islands? A port? What?"

"Hm. Sabra, I think," said Delon. "All the way across the Avagon-two thousand miles or so. Why do you ask?"

"The Jutes might think we sail for a major city, and if Sabra is one, I think we ought to veer east of due south, or west." Egil turned to Arin. "Regardless, love, your plan is sound. Sail into the open ocean where they are less likely to search. And even if they do search, from what Delon says, the Avagon is a wide, wide sea."

"But wait a moment," said Ferret, biting into a ration of waybread as she sat cross-legged on the cabin housing. "Why don't we simply head for a rich city? There's hundreds to choose from, and the likelihood of anyone finding us is slim at best. Besides, what better thing is there to do?"

"Better thing?" asked Arin, glancing at the sky, as if choosing a star to guide upon. "Mayhap nought. Yet it is not a so-called better thing we search for, but something needful instead." Arin turned to the girl. "Ferai, we are on a mission, and have yet one other someone or something to find ere we can seek out the green stone-wherever it may be."

Ferret looked up from her waybread. "A mission? Now wait a moment… although you got me out of a tight spot back there, I'm not at all certain that I want to go on some mission. Of course, I might be persuaded if… -Just where is this one other someone or something? And what's this about a green stone?" She turned her gaze toward Arin, Ferai's features studiously ingenuous, and she casually asked, "Is it a treasure?"

Arin smiled. "As to the location of what we next seek, I don't know. Just as I do not know where the green stone lies."

"But you have a treasure map, eh?"

"We have a rede."

"Rede?"

"Aye. A riddle."

"You mean you travel over the world following a riddle, searching for somethings and someones and a green stone?"

"Exactly so."

Ferret fell into thought, then said, "This riddle-it's solved, right?"

Arin shrugged. "We have only guesses as to its meanings, but whether they are right or wrong, we know not."

Ferret threw up her hands and demanded, "Then how do you expect to find this someone or something?"

Delon reached across and patted Ferret on the knee. "I was hoping that you could tell us where next to go, luv."

Ferret's eyes flew wide. "Me? Why, I don't even know why you, um, helped me in the first place"-she stroked her throat with the fingers of one hand-"though I am quite pleased that you did. What do you mean that I am to tell you where next to go?"

"Yes, Delon," said Egil, "just what do you mean? I, too, would like to know."

"Well," said Delon, looking at Arin, "correct me if I'm wrong, but it seems to me that each new step of your quest-of our quest-depends, or at least has depended, upon the last step taken." Delon held up a hand to stop the burgeoning questions. "Hear me out:

"Several steps led you to Black Mountain, Dara, where you found Aiko, a cat who fell from grace. And she in turn was the one who suggested that dark water might be the name of a place, and that led you to Morkfjord, where you found two one-eyes: Egil and Alos. It was Egil then who told you that the only mad monarch he knew of was the queen of Jute, and that led you to me, a rutting peacock. In my turn, in Pendwyr I suggested that the High King's cage might be the jail, and when we were inside I called out 'ferret,' and that led us to her." Delon now turned to Ferret. "And so, luv, if the chain holds true, you will help us solve the next step and tell us where we can find the maze."

"Maze?" asked Ferret.

Egil cleared his throat. "That I am the one-eye in dark water, I have no doubt. Yet is it not possible that all the others were chosen simply because they seemed to fit the words of the rede? For instance, there was a true peacock in the queen's gardens, though we, er, though Aiko chose you instead, even though at the time I thought it was the preening bird we were after. Could it be that no matter where we go we will find someone or something to fit what we seek?"