the long end and heaved upward, moving it only a few inches, but enough. With a half grunt, half groan, the wounded man pulled his legs out. ‘I don’t think my legs are broken, lad. Give me a hand up and we’ll see.’
Arutha gave him a hand and nearly lost his footing pulling the bulky seaman to his feet. ‘Here, now,’ said the wounded man. ‘You’re not in much of a fighting trim yourself, are you?’
‘I’ll be all right,’ said Arutha, steadying the man while fighting off an attack of nausea.
The seaman leaned upon Arutha. ‘We’d better hurry, then. The fire is spreading.’ With Arutha’s help, he negotiated the gangway. When they reached the quayside, gasping for breath, the heat was becoming intense. The wounded seaman gasped, ‘Keep going!’
Arutha nodded and slung the man’s arm over his shoulder. They set off down the quay, staggering like a pair of drunken sailors on the town.
Suddenly there came a roar, and both men were slammed to the ground. Arutha shook his dazed head and turned over. Behind him a great tower of flames leaped skyward. The ship was a faintly seen black silhouette in the heart of the blinding yellow-and-white column of fire. Waves of heat washed over them, as if they were standing at the door of a giant oven.
Arutha managed to croak, ‘What was that?’
His companion gave out with an equally feeble reply: ‘Two hundred barrels of Quegan fire oil.’
Arutha spoke in disbelief. ‘You didn’t say anything about fire oil back aboard ship.’
‘I didn’t want you getting excited. You looked half-gone already. I figured we’d either get clear or we wouldn’t.’
Arutha tried to rise, but fell back. Suddenly he felt very comfortable resting on the cool stone of the quay. He saw the fire begin to dim before his eyes, then all went dark.
Arutha opened his eyes and saw blurred shapes over him. He blinked and the images cleared. Carline hovered over his sleeping pallet, looking anxiously on as Father Tully examined him. Behind Carline, Fannon watched, and next to him stood an unfamiliar man. Then Arutha remembered him. ‘The man from the ship.’
The man grinned. ‘Amos Trask, lately master of the Sidonie until those bast – begging the Princess’s pardon – those cursed land rats put her to the torch. Standing here thanks to Your Highness.’
Tully interrupted. ‘How do you feel?’
Arutha sat up, finding his body a mass of dull aches. Carline placed cushions behind her brother. ‘Battered, but I’ll survive.’ His head swam a little. ‘I’m a bit dizzy.’
Tully looked down his nose at Arutha’s head. ‘Small wonder. You took a nasty crack. You may find yourself occasionally dizzy for a few days, but I don’t think it is serious.’
Arutha looked at the Swordmaster. ‘How long?’
Fannon said, ‘A patrol brought you in last night. It’s morning.’
‘The raid?’
Fannon shook his head sadly. ‘The town’s gutted. We managed to kill them all, but there’s not a whole building left standing in Crydee. The fishing village at the south end of the harbor is untouched, but otherwise everything was lost.’
Carline fussed around near Arutha, tucking in covers and fluffing his cushions. ‘You should rest.’
He said, ‘Right now, I’m hungry.’
She brought over a bowl of hot broth. He submitted to the light broth in place of solid food, but refused to let her spoon-feed him. Between mouthfuls he said, ‘Tell me what happened.’
Fannon looked disturbed. ‘It was the Tsurani.’
Arutha’s hand stopped, his spoon poised halfway between bowl and mouth. ‘Tsurani? I thought they were reavers, from the Sunset Islands.’
‘At first so did we, but after talking to Captain Trask here, and the Tsurani slaves who are with us, we’ve pieced together a picture of what’s happened.’
Tully picked up the narrative. ‘From the slaves’ story, these men were specially chosen. They called it a death raid. They were selected to enter the town, destroy as much as possible, then die without fleeing. They burned the ship as much as a symbol of their commitment as to deny it to us. I gather from what they say it’s considered something of a great honor.’
Arutha looked at Amos Trask. ‘How is it they managed to seize your ship, Captain?’
‘Ah, that is a bitter story, Highness.’ He leaned to his right a little, and Arutha remembered his wound.
‘How is your side?’
Trask grinned, his dark eyes merry. ‘A messy wound, but not a serious one. The good father put it right as new, Highness.’
Tully made a derisive sound. ‘That man should be in bed. He is more seriously injured than you. He would not leave until he saw you were all right.’
Trask ignored the comment. ‘I’ve had worse. We once had a fight with a Quegan war galley turned rogue pirate and – well, that’s another story. You asked about my ship.’ He limped over closer to Arutha’s pallet. ‘We were outward bound from Palanque with a load of weapons and fire oil. Considering the situation here, I thought to find a ready market. We braved the straits early in the season, stealing the march on other ships, or so we hoped.
‘But while we made the passage early, we paid the price. A monstrous storm blew up from the south, and we were driven for a week. When it was over, we headed east, striking for the coast. I thought we’d have no trouble plotting our position from landmarks. When we sighted land, not one aboard recognized a single feature. As none of us had ever been north of Crydee, we judged rightly we had gone farther than we had thought.
‘We coasted by day, heaving to at night, for I’d not risk unknown shoals and reefs. On the third night the Tsurani came swimming out from shore like a pod of dolphins. Dived right under the ship, and came up on both sides. By the time I was awake from the commotion on deck, there was a full half dozen of the bast – begging the Princess’s pardon – them Tsurani swarming over me. It took them only minutes to take my ship.’ His shoulders sagged a bit. ‘It’s a hard thing to lose one’s ship, Highness.’
He grimaced and Tully stood, making Trask sit on the stool next to Arutha. Trask continued his story. ‘We couldn’t understand what they said; their tongue is more suited for monkeys than men – I myself speak five civilized languages and can do ‘talk-see’ in a dozen more. But as I was saying, we couldn’t understand their gibberish, but they made their intentions clear enough.
‘They pored over my charts.’ He grimaced in remembering. ‘I purchased them legal and aboveboard from a retired captain down in Durbin. Fifty years of experience in those charts, there were, from here in Crydee to the farthest eastern shores of the Keshian Confederacy, and they were tossing them around my cabin like so much old canvas until they found the ones they wanted. They had some sailors among them, for as soon as they recognized the charts, they made their plans known to me.
‘Curse me for a freshwater fisherman, but we had heaved to only a few miles north of the headlands above your lighthouse. If we’d
