Страница 53 из 82
“I know that. But did you go ahead of me?”
Declan nodded. “Yes, sieur, we did. She told me the woman had been talking about going to Os the day before. So when you wouldn’t let any of us go with you yesterday…” He paused, rubbing his grizzled chin and ruminating on the decision that had caused him to leave his native village.
“We went first, sieur,” Herena finished simply. “You said nobody but the woman was to come with you and nobody could follow you. But you didn’t say we couldn’t go to Os at all. We left while Anian and Ceallach were making a staff for you.”
“So you arrived before we did. And you talked to people, didn’t you? You told them what had happened in your villages.”
“We didn’t mean any harm, sieur,” Herena said.
Declan nodded. “I didn’t. That’s what she should say. It wasn’t really her that talked, not until they asked her. It was me, though I’ve always been so slow with my words. Only I’m not, sieur, when I’m talking about you.” He drew in breath, then burst out, “I’ve been beaten before, sieur. Twice by the tax gatherers, once by the law. The second time I was the only man in Gurgustii that fought, and they left me for dead. But if you want to punish me, all you have to do is tell me. I’ll jump into the water right now if you tell me to, though I can’t swim.”
I shook my head. “You meant no harm, Declan. Thanks to you, Ceryx learned about me, and poor Zama had to die a second death, and a third. But whether all that came to good or evil, I don’t know. Until we reach the end of time, we don’t know whether something’s been good or bad; we can only judge the intentions of those who acted. How did you learn that I was going to take this ship?”
The wind was rising; Herena drew her stola more closely around her. “We’d gone to sleep, sieur—”
“In an i
Declan cleared his throat. “No, sieur, it was in a tun. We thought it would keep the rain off if it rained. Then too I could sleep at the open end and her in the butt, so there couldn’t anyone get at her without passing me. There was some people that didn’t want us to, but when I had explained how it was to them, they let us.”
“He knocked two of them down,” Herena said, “but I don’t think he hurt them, sieur. They got back up and ran away.”
“Then, sieur, when we’d been asleep for a while, a boy came and woke me. He was a potboy, sieur, at the i
Herena nodded. “So this morning we came. Our tun wasn’t far from the dock, sieur, and I got Declan up as soon as it was light. The captain wasn’t there yet, but there was a man he’d left in charge, and when we said we’d work if they’d take us, he said all right, and we helped carry things. We saw you come, sieur, and what happened on the bank, and we’ve tried to stay close to you ever since.”
I nodded, but I was looking toward the bow. Hadelin and Burgundofara had come up and were standing on the forecastle deck. The wind pressed her ragged sailor clothes against her, and I wondered to see how slender she was, remembering Gu
Declan whispered hoarsely, “That woman — Down under this floor here, sieur, with the captain—”
“I know,” I told him. “They lay together last night too, at the i
Burgundofara turned for a moment, glancing up at the sails (which were full now as though big with child) and laughing at something Hadelin had said to her.
Chapter XXXIV — Saltus Again
BEFORE NOON we were racing along like a yacht. The wind sang in the rigging, and the first big drops of rain spattered the ship like paint flung at her canvas. From my position by the quarterdeck rail, I watched the mizzentop and main topgallant struck and the remainder of our hamper reefed again and again. When Hadelin came to me, excessively polite, to suggest I go below, I asked him if it would not be wise to tie up.
“Can’t, sieur. There’s no harbor between here and Saltus, sieur. Wind’d beach us if I tied to the bank, sieur. A blow’s coming, sieur, it is indeed. We’ve rode out worse, sieur.” He dashed away to belabor the mizzen gang and shout obscenities at the helmsman.
I went forward. I knew there was a chance I would soon be drowned, but I was enjoying the wind and found I did not greatly care. Whether my life had come to its end or not, I had both succeeded and failed. I had brought a New Sun that could not possibly cross the gulf of space in my lifetime — nor in that of any infant born in mine. If we reached Nessus, I would reclaim the Phoenix Throne, scrutinize the acts of the suzerain who had replaced Father Inire (for I felt sure the “monarch” mentioned by the villagers could not be Inire), and reward or punish him as his conduct deserved. I would then live out the remainder of my life amid the sterile pomp of the House Absolute or the horrors of battlefields; and if I ever wrote an account of it, as I had the account of my rise whose final disposal began this narrative, there would be little of interest in it once I had described the termination of this voyage.
The wind snapped my cloak like a ba
He looked absurd doffing his cap in that wind; I smiled as I nodded. “I suppose you can’t furl the foresail without making her harder to steer?”
It was just at that moment that the full fury of the storm descended on us. Though so much of her hamper had been struck or reefed, Alcyone was laid on her beam ends. When she righted herself (and to the glory of her builders, she did right herself) the water all around us was boiling with hail, and the drumming of the hailstones on her decks was deafening. The mate sprinted for the overhang of the sundeck. I followed him and was startled to see him fall to his knees as soon as he had gained its shelter.
“Sieur, don’t let her sink! I don’t want it for me, sieur, I got a wife — two babies — only married last year, sieur. We—”
I asked, “What makes you think I can save your ship?”
“It’s the captain, ain’t it, sieur? I’ll see to him, soon as it gets dark.” He fingered the hilt of the long dirk at his side. “I got a couple hands that’s sure to stand by me, sieur. I’ll do it — I swear it to you, sieur.”
“You’re talking mutiny,” I said. “And nonsense.” The ship rolled again until one end of the main yard was under water. “I can no more raise storms—”
I was addressing no one. He had bolted from beneath the overhanging deck and vanished into the hail and pouring rain. I seated myself once more on the narrow bench from which I had watched the ship loaded. Or rather, I rushed through the void as I had been rushing through the void since Burgundofara and I had leaped into the black emptiness under that strange dome on Yesod; and as I did, I made the lay figure I moved with strings that might have strangled half Briah sit upon the bench.