Crossroads 04 - The Dragon Isles (18 page)

 
          
“Ula
Drakenvaal
, ”
the sea elf corrected. “My family never formally disowned me. I still maintain
my rights as a citizen of the Isles, Misa Kell.”

 
          
“The
Order will determine that,” Lady Kell replied.

 
          
A
tall, similarly dressed, auburn-haired man joined Lady Kell at the rail. In his
left hand, he held a long lance the color of pale orange coral. “We don’t want
to use force,” he said, “but we will, if necessary. All intruders must be taken
to Berann to judge their worthiness.”

 
          
Shimmer
stepped forward. “Will you judge me also, Ben-
thor
Kell?” he said, his deep voice echoing over the water.

 
          
Benthor
and Misa Kell exchanged a wary glance.

 
          
“Forgive
us, Shimanloreth,” Lady Kell said, bowing slightly. “We did not recognize you
at first. The report of our scout was ... incomplete.”

 
          
“Of
course we don’t presume to judge you,” Lord Kell continued. “You are free to go
your own way. However— by the rules of the Order of Brass—your companions must
come with us.”

 
          
“And
if I refuse to let you take them?” Shimmer asked.

 
          
“Our
escort, Tanalish, is not far off,” Lady Kell replied. “She will help us enforce
the law if need be.”

 
          
“Surely
that will not be necessary, Shimanloreth,” Lord Kell added. “You know that
these laws are vital for the safety of the Isles. You may come or go as you
please. The rest, however, must accompany us.”

 
          
As
he said it, two dozen brass-armored warriors appeared at the gunwale. They
stood with their swords at the ready, though none threatened Shimmer or the
others directly.

 
          
Mik
glanced at Trip and Karista. “It seems we have no choice,” he whispered.

 
          
“They
appear genteel enough,” Karista said. “The elf and her friend may have been
lying to us. We should go with this Order of Brass.”

 
          
“My
goals and yours,” Mik replied, “are not entirely the same here.
Nevertheless .
..”

 
          
He
turned to lord and lady Kell and bowed slightly. “My companions and I,” he
said, indicating Trip and Karista, “will do as you request.”

 
          
“No!”
Ula hissed at him.

 
          
Shimmer
put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “There is no other way,” he whispered.

 
          
“We
are shipwrecked travelers, of no threat to anyone,” Mik continued, “and look
forward to your hospitality.”

 
          
“Our
recent fortunes have been grave,” Karista added. “We hope that meeting you may
reverse our bad luck.”

 
          
“Flattery
will gain you nothing,” Lord Kell replied. “The law sees through such shams.
However, I welcome you aboard and will treat you fairly during our journey to
Berann.”

 
          
“Come
alongside the reef!” Lady Kell called to her helmswoman. A drumchanter beside
the tiller began to chant and the banks of oars dipped into the water once
more. The galley executed a graceful turn and stopped only a few yards from the
reef.

 
          
The
warriors put a long boarding plank into the water and Mik, Trip, and Karista
walked up it onto the deck of the brass boat.

 
          
“Well,
Landwalker?” Lady Kell called. “Will you board as well, or shall we summon
Tanalish?”

 
          
Ula
glanced from Lady Kell to Shimmer, and then to Mik standing near the
dragonship’s rail. Fire burned in the sea elf s green eyes.

 
          
“We’ll
come aboard,” Ula said.

 
          
She
and Shimmer walked up the plank onto the galley’s deck.

 
          
As
Lady Kell escorted the prisoners to the bow and set guards around them—all save
Shimanloreth. Lord Kell gave orders to the helm and oarsmen. A fine mist sprang
up around them as the sleek dragonship cut through the water once more.

 
          
They
sped quickly over the placid ocean, passing the small nearby keys and heading
northwest toward a large wooded island crowned with snowcapped peaks.

 
          
“You
should hide the artifact and the parchment with the Prophecy, or they may
confiscate them,” Ula hissed at Mik.

 
          
“I’ll
do what I can with the diamond,” he said. “As to the Prophecy, it’s already
hidden in the best place of all.”

 
          
“Where?” she asked.

 
          
In
reply, he merely tapped his skull and smiled.

 
          
She
nodded in return and whispered, “If you still want to try for that fortune,
support me when I make my play.”

 
          
“Have
you figured a way out of here?” he asked.

 
          
“Maybe,”
she replied. “I can’t fight the whole Order of Brass, but...”

 
          
Mik
looked puzzled, but she said no more.

 
          
“Where
are we going?” Trip asked their brass-armored captors. He hopped to the rail
and leaned out over the gunwale so far that he nearly toppled into the drink.

 
          
“Berann,”
Lady Kell replied.
“Home of the Order of Brass and our lord
Thrakdar.”

 
          
“A
bag of wind,” Shimmer grumbled.
“Both him and his uncle
Thracktil.”

 
          
Misa
Kell’s eyes narrowed, but she did not react to what the bronze knight said.
Instead, she turned to the others and said, “Turn over your weapons. We will
return them to you after judgment”

 
          
“And
if we’re judged unworthy?” Mik asked, his hand resting on the pommel of his
scimitar.

 
          
“Then
they will he returned when you are cast adrift beyond the Veil,” Lady Kell
replied.

 
          
Ula
rose from where she had been sitting, her spear clenched tightly in her fist.
“I am no common prisoner,” she said. “I will not give up my weapons.”

 
          
“It
is the law, Ula Landwalker,” Lady Kell said.

 
          
“You
apply your laws capriciously, Misa Kell,” Ula replied. “They do not hind me. I
am a Drakenvaal. I will not submit to you, or your order, or your laws. I am
hound by the customs of
my
people—the
Dargonesti. We roamed the seas when your people were but babes. Only the
Dargonesti can deprive me of arms; only they can judge me. I demand that you
take me to Darthalla.”

 
          
Mik
glanced at Ula, and saw cunning in her eyes. He nodded that he was with her.

 
          
“Those
were the old ways, Landwalker,” Lady Kell said. “Things are different since the
gods of good and their dragon consorts left Krynn. Things have changed in the
isles, and order must be maintained.”

 
          
“Has
honor changed as well, then?” Ula asked.

 
          
Misa
Kell looked offended. “How could the laws of honor change?” she said haughtily.

 
          
A
sly smile broke over Ula’s beautiful face. “Then I demand honorable justice,”
she said.

 
          
“What
do you mean?” Lady Kell asked.

 
          
“I
demand trial by combat.”

Duel on the Deck

 
          
 
Trip elbowed Mik. “What’s she up to?” the
kender asked.

 
          
“Trying
to keep us out of prison,” Mik replied, though he wished that he felt
more sure
of the sea elf s impromptu plan.

 
          
Lord
Kell strode from the bridge to where Ula and the rest stood in the bow of the
dragonship. In his left hand he held his long coral lance clutched tight. He
took up a defensive posture beside his sister.

 
          
Misa
Kell’s gaze narrowed, and her brow furrowed with anger. She stared unblinking
into the sea elf s green eyes.

 
          
“This
is absurd,” Benthor Kell said. “The law is clear, Ula Drakenvaal. You—and the
rest—must accompany us to Berann.”

 
          
“The
Code of Honor is older than your order’s laws,” Ula said, never taking her eyes
off Misa. “If you’ve abandoned it, say so.”
 
         
Benthor
Kell’s rugged jaw tightened, and he frowned. “We would no more abandon honor
than we would the law.”

 
          
“Then
I demand my rights,” Ula said.

 
          
“Very
well,” Lord Kell replied, hefting his lance. “Clear the decks!” he called. “We
will give this elf her trial.”

 
          
“No,
Benthor,” Misa said. “It is
I
who was
challenged— and I who will accept.”

 
          
“But,
sister—” Lord Kell began.

 
          
“Ula
challenged your sister, not you,” Mik improvised. “Only the challenged can
accept. To do otherwise is to forfeit the challenge.”

 
          
Lord
Kell glared at Mik, and then at the sea elf. Mik smiled, knowing the lord was
trapped.

 
          
“If
I win,” Ula said, “you will release the castaways to me and take us to
Darthalla. There my people will judge our worthiness to stay in the Dragon
Isles.”

 
          
“And
if you lose?” Mik whispered.

 
          
Ula
winked at him. “Then we all go to Berann and stand before the Order.” She
turned to Lady Kell and in a louder voice said. “Do you accept the terms of the
challenge?”

 
          
Karista
Meinor looked from Ula to Lady Kell. She seemed to be weighing her options, but
said nothing. Trip clapped gleefully in anticipation of the fight.

 
          
“I
accept,” Misa Kell replied through gritted teeth. “Clear the deck and we’ll
settle this.” She loosened her brass-handled sword from its scabbard and tossed
the sheath toward the stem deck.

 
          
The
crew moved away from the center of the trireme’s midship platform, leaving the
women plenty of room to fight. Ula glanced at Mik. “Have Shimmer make sure they
play fair,” she said loudly.

 
          
Mikal
Vardan nodded, as did bronze knight. Ula turned back to her opponent, spear at
the ready.

 
          
With
a snarl of rage, Misa charged forward. She swung at Ula’s head, but the sea elf
ducked out of the way.

 
          
Ula
flipped her spear and clouted the brass-armored woman in the lower back. Misa
staggered and barely ducked aside in time to avoid Ula’s follow-up thrust. Lady
Kell brought her sword up against the spear’s haft and turned the weapon aside.

 
          
“You
fight well,” Misa snarled, “for someone dressed like a camp follower.”

 
          
Ula
laughed. “So do you.”

 
          
Misa
chopped at Ula’s midsection, but the sea elf stepped back, her bare feet moving
gracefully over the ship’s smooth wooden deck. She pirouetted, spun her weapon,
and clouted Lady Kell on the side of the head with the spear’s butt. Misa
reeled from the impact.

 
          
“She’s
fast!” Trip whispered, admiring Ula’s grace.

 
          
“She’s
used to fighting in the pressure of the deep,” Mik whispered back. “Above
water, she’s much quicker than any of us.
Stronger, too,
probably.”

 
          
“Stronger
than Lady Kell, I hope,” Trip replied.

 
          
Misa
Kell waved her sword before her as she staggered back. The brass weapon turned
aside two of the sea elf s thrusts—more by luck than design. Ula stabbed at her
again, and this time the blow got through, tracing a long cut down Misa’s pale
ribs.

 
          
“That
scanty armor is just slowing you down,” Ula noted. “You should design your next
set for protection rather than show.”

 
          
“Elf
witch!” Misa snarled. “Stand still and fight!” She lunged forward suddenly and
got her sword under Ula’s guard. Ula turned Misa’s blade aside, but they crashed
together and the two of them fell to the deck in a heap.

 
          
Their
arms and legs tangled as they wrestled across the deck, each trying to position
her weapon for a telling blow. Misa smashed the pommel of her sword into Ula’s
hip. The sea elf grunted and clouted the brass lady on the chin with her fist.

 
          
Blood
spurted from Misa’s mouth. She tried to grab Ula’s arm, but only ended up with
a handful of jewelry from the sea elf s sparse clothing. A few tiny gems rolled
across the planking and briefly settled onto the deck before finding their way
into Trip’s pockets.

 
          
Ula
rammed her knee into Lady Kell’s exposed gut. The air rushed out of Misa’s
lungs and Ula rolled out from under her. The Dargonesti quickly scrambled to
her feet. Bloody-faced, Lady Kell did the same.

 
          
Panting,
the two women regarded each other across the blood spattered deck.

 
          
“Slippery
as a scavenger eel,” Misa growled.

 
          
“And
with twice the bite,” Ula countered. “Submit. You’re outmatched.”

 
          
“Never!”

 
          
Ula
lunged forward, stabbing at Lady Kell’s midsection.

 
          
Misa
parried, but that was exactly what Ula wanted.

 
          
The
sea elf allowed the shaft of her spear to skid up Misa’s sword blade. Ula
heaved hard, pushing the sword to the left,
then
thrust right.

 
          
She
drove the spear point up, into the unprotected flesh just below Misa’s shoulder
guard. Lady Kell gasped. Her eyes grew wide, and her sword went limp in her
hand. Ula gave her spear a final twist and thrust her opponent to the floor.

 
          
Lady
Kell slumped to her knees. Ula pulled her spear out of her opponent’s shoulder
and stepped away. Misa gasped once and then collapsed on the deck, unconscious
and bleeding.

 
          
Mik
knelt down, tore off the sleeve of his shirt, and pressed it over Misa’s wound.
“Get a healer,” he said, glancing up at Ula. The satisfied smile on her face
sent a shiver down his spine.

 
          
“Get
away from her, freebooter,” Lord Kell said, pushing Mik out of the way. A woman
dressed in white stepped forward and knelt beside her lord and lady. She began
to minister to Misa Kell’s wound.

 
          
“The
wound is deep, my lord,” the white-robed woman said. “It will take all my skill
to stop the bleeding.”

 
          
Fire
blazed in Benthor Kell’s gray eyes. “There was no need for you to wound her
thus,” he said, glaring at Ula.

 
          
“Ula
gave her the chance to withdraw,” Mik said.

 
          
“This
was no game she and you entered into,” Ula said, her green eyes flashing. “If
you two weren’t prepared to pay the price, you shouldn’t have challenged my
rights.”

 
          
Lord
Kell stood and drew his sword. Ula took a step back and aimed the bloody point
of her spear at his chest. The two of them glowered at each other across the
crimson stained deck.

 
          
“I
should gut you where you stand,” Lord Kell hissed through clenched teeth.

 
          
“Is
this how you honor the laws of combat?” Ula asked. Shimmer took up a position
behind her.

 
          
“It
was a fair fight,” Mik said, stepping between Kell and Ula.

 
          
Kell
lowered his sword. “I will honor our word,” he said tersely. “You and your
friends have won the right to be judged by the Dargonesti.” He turned toward
the white- robed woman, “How is my sister?”

 
          
“Her
injury is grave,” the healer replied. “My power is not what it was before the
gods departed. It will take a long time to heal.”

 
          
“Take
Lady Kell to her cabin and tend her there,” Lord Kell said. He pointed to
several brass-armored warriors and said, “Help the healer carry my sister.”

 
          
The
warriors nodded and assisted the healer in taking Misa Kell below deck. They
moved slowly and deliberately so as not to aggravate the lady’s wound. Lord Kell,
his manner stem and formal, turned back to Ula.

 
          
“We
sail for Darthalla,” he said. “The others will go with you, all save the
kender.”

 
          
“Unacceptable,”
said Mik.

 
          
Ula
shot him a stem glance.

 
          
Kell
ignored the sailor and addressed Ula directly. “You know the laws concerning
his kind. The code of your people is no different than ours. He must be taken
to kendertown on the isle of Alarl.”

 
          
“My
people can take him to the city of
Perch
as easily as yours,” Ula said.

 
          
“I
think not,” Kell replied. “Besides, we both know kender are slippery and hard
to hold onto. Better he should stay with me—unless you’d care to dispute my
claim . . . ?” He arched one auburn eyebrow and smiled wickedly.

 
          
Mik
stepped forward, but Ula held him back. “Don’t,” she whispered.

 
          
“I’m
not going to let him take Trip,” Mik replied.

 
          
“You
can’t defeat him,” Ula said. “We’re both tired now. Kell would best either of
us easily—which is exactly what he wants. Don’t give in to him.”

 
          
Mik
glanced at Trip, then at Kell. The lord practically glowed with eagerness to
fight. Mik felt the weariness within his own bones. He had barely slept in two
days. Ula was right; Kell would win easily.