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The sounds of surf hitting the shore drew us on like a magnet. We hit a long stretch of firm clay within the swamp and then picked our way through a final marshy patch. The trees were smaller, pathetic-looking, all bent east, away from the sea breezes. We stopped in a tight copse of the dwarf trees and dismounted. Looking through the grayish greenery, we could see the Mist. Just then, it looked beautiful.
Beyond our trees there was a narrow stretch of grass and hard-packed dirt. The line of a wide trail road was visible, wagon tracks and signs that many horses had used the trail-recently. The beach beyond the road was of dark gray sand that stretched off in an arc in both directions. The beach was wide, maybe an average of five hundred yards. It went south as far as I could see, but ended a mile to the north. A massive outcropping of rock rose two hundred feet above the sand and stuck out into the Mist like a swollen thumb. Sheer bluffs dropped to the sea. The waves weren't hitting the beach itself, but a sandbar farther out. The water near the beach was relatively placid at the moment, but from the driftwood scattered higher on the shore, I could see that it wasn't always so serene.
The sun came out from behind a cloud and set shards of crystal in the sand to sparkling in an almost blinding display. Far out over the Mist we could see a weather front coming in, a line of thick, dark clouds that towered from sea to sky. But in the middle, I could see the silver seaweed gleaming in the lagoon, a thick band of bright silver that followed the arc of the beach from almost directly in front of us north toward the cliff.
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"That's what I came for," I agreed. I looked at the sky and guessed that we had a little more than two hours of good light left. "It would be nice to get a full night's sleep and collect the silver in the morning, but if that storm front keeps coming, the surf may be too rough in the morning." Parthet had told me that the sea-silver grew in water between four and twelve feet deep, allowing for rather modest tides. Even staying at the shallow end of the patch, it wouldn't take much surf to complicate our harvest.
"I don't think we can chance it now, either," A
"There must be a dozen or more of them," A
"Let's get comfortable," I said, suppressing a sigh. "Maybe they'll leave." If not, we would wait till as near sunset as possible, then try to sneak across the beach to get our silver. I slipped my pistol into a saddlebag and took off my sword belt.
"Harkane, help me strip off this tin shirt. I can't wear twenty pounds of metal in the water." We got the mail off. It was a relief. I felt almost light enough to float away. Harkane rolled the mail and strapped it behind my saddle. I put my sword belt back on.
We watered the horses, using the last of the water in the two oversized bags that I pla
The riders came down from the headland and rode our way, spread out across the beach in a loose skirmish line. They weren't riding very fast, so I thought that it might be just a routine patrol, not an attempt to catch us. A long horn call sounded just before they passed our hiding place, but I didn't hear any reply. There were fifteen riders. The one in the center looked like a giant. He wore a long two-handed sword like a claymore, sheathed across his back. I held rny breath, but the riders went by without a second look our way.
"Their leader is an elf, or at least halfelven like me," A
"Mount up," I said. "If they keep going south, we'll ride for the sea, about halfway to the headland. I'll go in for my silver and we'll get out of here as fast as we can."
"I'll help in the water," A
We watched the riders. They rode at a slow trot, casually sca
"Keep a sharp watch," I told Lesh and Harkane when we dismounted at the water's edge. "Give us all the warning you can if they come back." I handed Harkane my sword and its sheath. They would just get in the way in the water. I kept my knife to work with.
The near edge of the seaweed bed was thirty yards out. The top of the sea was brilliantly reflective. The silver gleamed like polished metal. Even when the sun ducked behind another cloud, the sea-silver gleamed. A
"Ready?" I asked. A
The water was frigid. Cool would have been a blessing, but the Mist felt like ice. We waded and floundered toward the sea-silver, moving slowly in the lash and recoil of the current. The undertow threatened to drag our legs out from under us at every step. By the time we reached the seaweed, my knees felt ready to buckle from the strain.
"Cut as low as you can," I told A
The cold seemed less pressing once I submerged. I could see well enough, though the salt water stung my eyes badly. I needed a few experiments to find the best way to reap the silver. Then the harvest moved quickly. I gathered in an armful of silver and crammed it into the mouth of the sack, then cut the weed as close to the roots as I could-up for a quick breath and a glance at the shore, then down to gather the next sheaf. It didn't take long. A
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Lesh had the two largest horses, his and mine, ready for the pouches. All of the paraphernalia those animals had been carrying had been transferred to the other horses. We got the bags of sea-silver tied behind the saddles and covered with blankets. Harkane returned my sword. I didn't bother with the chain mail. There wasn't time and I didn't want the weight over my wet clothes anyway.
The fifteen riders in the south were clearly visible against the distant sand, but they were still a few minutes away. We mounted and I stared south for a moment, discouraged at the chances of holding our own against so many… or escaping from them. I was surprised when my extra sense signaled closer danger from the other direction, but I turned quickly. Another half-dozen riders were coming toward us at a gallop, down from the headland, and they were a lot closer.