Part 10 (1/2)

Aristobulus turned, raising his arms. Now, let the power flow.... It would have to be the flame spell; nothing else would slow down the charging soldiers.

So I'll give you fire. He let the spell click to the forefront of his mind, his chest tightening, straining as though he had drawn in twice as much air as his lungs could handle. The red glow brightened, a hot envelope enshrouding him, tingling his skin, so intense it blanketed his vision.

And the urgency grew; the spell had been pus.h.i.+ng constantly at the back of his minda”but pus.h.i.+ng gently. Now it roared, demanding use, painfully growing in his skull until he thought his head would explode from the pressure and heat.

Aristobulus released it, the rush of sound so loud he couldn't begin to hear or understand the words issuing from his own mouth.

The charging soldiers were a scant hundred feet away; halfway between the two men at the head of the group, the pier exploded into fire. The wood glowed with white heat for a moment before it could start to flame.

The wall of fire grew, tongues of flame licking easily two hundred feet into the sky, roaring, crackling.

Aristobulus dropped his hands. It was done.

”You stupida”” Ahira grabbed the collar of his robes; the pier dropped away under his feet as the dwarf threw him over the rail. He landed on his shoulder on the deck of the Ganness' Pride, sliding until he banged into a mast.

Pain lanced through him; he staggered to his feet.

And then he understood: He had cast the spell too far away; the lead soldiers had been able to get past the wall of fire before it blocked the way for the rest.

Ahira waited for them, his battleaxe held easily in his hands.

”Cast off, d.a.m.n you all!” Ganness shouted at his crew, following his own orders as he raced to the front of the boat to slash through the bow line. ”Get those sails upa”a hard hand on the tiller, there.”

The first soldier glanced at the boat as seamen pushed it from the pier, then moved toward the dwarf, only his outline visible against the wall of fire.

Aristobulus had known that the dwarf was strong, but he had never realized just how strong; Ahira ducked under the swing of the soldier's sword, planted the stock of his axe against the man's chest, and pushed.

The soldier tumbled back, head over heels, a full fifty feet into the leading edge of the fire. He jerked to his feet, gibbering and flaming, and twitched himself over the side of the pier, splas.h.i.+ng into the water.

Ahira turned to the other soldier.

A crossbow bolt spanged! into the pier at Ahira's feet. Aristobulus turned to see Hakim, swearing, pull back the bowstring, then reach for another bolt.

The dwarf moved smoothly toward the remaining soldier, feinted with the blade of his axe, caught the soldier's swordthrust on the haft of his axe, and swung, once.

Once was more than enough. The soldier, chainlink armor and all, dropped to the pier, his torso twitching itself a few feet away from his legs before it stopped. Ahira had sliced the man neatly in half.

Raising his b.l.o.o.d.y axe over his head, Ahira threw it at Aristobulus. It thunked into the deck beside him, only a yard from his sandaled feet. The dwarf took a running start and jumped across the ten feet separating the boat and the pier.

”Not too bad, though,” he smiled. ”Captain, let's get out of here.' *

Ganness swore under his breath as he bounded across the deck to the tiller.

PART THREE:.

Pandathaway.

CHAPTER SEVEN:.

In the Midst of the Sea.

The entire land sets out to work, All beasts browse on their herbs, Trees, herbs are sprouting, Birds fly from their nests...

s.h.i.+ps fare north, fare south as well, Roads lie open when you rise; The fish in the river dart before you, Your rays are in the midst of the sea.

a”The Great Hymn to the Aten, Stanza Three.

Barak stood by himself at the bow, leaning on the rail. Starlight s.h.i.+mmered on the flat black water ahead; an occasional wash of cool spray tingled his face.

He unhitched a small waterskin from the railing, taking a small swig of the leathery water to wash out his mouth. Which didn't do much good; his tongue still tasted like vomit. At least he was adjusting, thank whatever. The first two days aboard the Ganness' Pride had been a continual bout with nauseaa”of all of them, why the h.e.l.l did he have to be the only seasick one?

It was getting better, a little. His feet had picked up the rhythm of the pitching deck and his gut had unknotted; while he had no urge to let anything but water past his lips, he could keep from throwing up, as long as he kept his eyes on the horizon. Sleep was impossible, except for a few brief s.n.a.t.c.hesa”a nap was an almost certain invitation to another battle with the dry heaves.

He rubbed at the back of his neck. It could be worse; he could be dead. At least he was alone for a while, or as close to that as possible; the bow of the boat was long and slender. He could ignore the scurrying of feet on the deck, and just watch starlight.

Footsteps sounded behind him Sandaled feet, walking over-heavily.

”Come to push me overboard, Walter?”

The thief chuckled. ”As I understand it, that might have been a favor, yesterday, or the day beforea”to more people than you. On the other hand I owe you my life. You think that letting your stupidity pa.s.s is a fair trade, Karl?”

There was just a touch of emphasis on the name; he let it pa.s.s. ”At least you're talking to me. The only other words I've heard from any of you during the two days we've been on this garbage scow were to the effect of 'Don't throw up on me.' ” He found himself s.h.i.+vering, so he picked up the blanket from between his feet, gathering it around his shoulders Another night sleeping on decka”or not sleeping well, that was better than putting up with the stony silence of his so-called friends.

Walter took a position at his side, joining in his staring campaign at the Cirric. He was back in his normal clothinga”or lack of ita”but the chill air coming across the water didn't seem to affect him. ”You're getting off easy, Karl. You did a dumb thinga”two, actually, if Ahira wasn't exaggerating about your trying to strike up a conversation during the fight.”

”He wasn't. And I did know better. It was just thata””

”It was just that you were acting like Karl Cullinane, when you should have been busy being Barak. If that makes any sense to you.” Walter shrugged. ”Which I hope it does. I think that's what killed Jason.”

He raised an eyebrow. ”You're sure he's dead?”

”Yeah. I heard his screams as I was running away.” Walter shuddered. ”Which makes me hope to G.o.d he's dead. We'll be lucky if he's the only one of us to die before we reach the Gate.”

”If we reach the Gate.”

”Right ” Walter produced a piece of jerky, tore it in half. ”Chew on it slowly, eh?” He stuck the other half in his own mouth.

”Thanks.” It wasn't bad, actually. As tough as a piece of old leather, but the flavor was rich and strangely sweet, reminiscent of hickory. Hardly salty at alla”he suppressed that thought: just the notion of salt made him gag. ”But you didn't ask the right question.”

”I didn't ask any questiona”but what do you think the right one is?”

”Try this: Should we try to find the Gate?” He felt Walter's gaze, turned to see the smaller man staring quizzically. ”Or hasn't that occurred to you?”

A shrug. ”It hasa”particularly an hour or so backa”but never mind that. Tell me: How do your teeth feel?”