The Dreamtrails (89 page)

I drank a mouthful of the fement and tried to smile, but a storm of tears was rising behind my eyes, and I knew suddenly that there was no holding them back. I stood up abruptly, and immediately Brydda rose, too. Taking my hand, he murmured to the others that he needed some fresh air before the meeting began. I was unable to speak and was half-blinded by tears as he led me deftly into the cold night. He brought me to the side of the ship and laid his big hand on my shoulder.

I shook my head and stepped away from him. “Please, don’t,” I whispered, my voice quaking. “If you are kind, I will never get control of myself.” He nodded and stood silent while I gulped and blinked and sniffed my way to some sort of calmness. “I am sorry,” I told the big rebel hoarsely at last. “It is only that I have been so worried.”

“Rushton has been behaving badly,” Brydda said, and there was anger in his voice. “Whatever happened to him in the cloister in Sutrium is not your fault. Why take it out on you, of all people?”

“Oh, Brydda, if only you knew,” I said, drawing a long steadying breath. “You must not blame Rushton for the way he is behaving, especially toward me. When we spoke
in Rangorn, I told you that his imprisonment in the cloister in Sutrium had broken something in him and that he would not permit me to enter his blocked memories to help him. I did not tell you that Rushton told me that he could no longer love me.”

Brydda looked at me in frank disbelief. “He did not mean it, surely.”

“I did not believe it either, but when I saw him in Saithwold, he was even more cold and harsh toward me. I saw then that he
had
meant what he said at Obernewtyn. Dameon said I was wrong and that it was
because
he loved me that Rushton was so cold. He said it was because I stirred him deeply that he rejected me, because if he allowed himself to feel anything for me, it would force him to face the memories of what had happened to him.” I swallowed hard. “But Dameon did not know what I now know. What Domick told me …”

Brydda’s eyes widened. “Domick? But how …?” He stopped, comprehension flooding his expression. “They were taken at the same time, weren’t they?”

I nodded. “Apparently, Rushton had found Domick and was trying to convince him to return to Obernewtyn when they were taken. Ariel had foreseen the meeting. But they were not separated, as it might seem, Domick was not taken to Herder Isle and Rushton to the cloister in Sutrium. They were both brought aboard the
Black Ship
and taken to Norseland.”

“
Norseland!
But Rushton was found in the Sutrium cloister!” Brydda said.

I told him what the Threes had said about Rushton and Ariel, and then I told him all that Domick had said. The rebel shook his head, and a look of revulsion crossed his rough,
kind face. “I cannot believe that Domick was made to torture Rushton.… No wonder his mind split in two.”

“What happened to him was our fault. We sent him to spy, and it was what he did as a spy that created Mika, and it was Mika whom Ariel found and used,” I said, fresh tears welling in my eyes. “But in telling me about Rushton, Domick broke free from Ariel’s control. Apparently, he was not meant to be able to speak at all. Mika was supposed to be in control.”

“That tells us that Ariel makes mistakes. And he has made a mistake in thinking that he has broken Rushton. The question now is what to do,” Brydda said.

I told him of my conversation with Dell about Rushton and how I was to ask Blyss to help me prepare him to remember. “Only I never got the chance to speak to Blyss about it, and now …”

“Rushton is aboard the
Umborine
with you,” Brydda concluded.

“With me but without Blyss or any empath or healer,” I reminded him. “And worse, we are bound for Norseland, where Ariel tortured him. Rushton is likely to remember what happened if he goes ashore, especially if he sees the place where Ariel took him.”

“Ye gods,” Brydda said. “Then he must not go ashore.”

“That would be the best thing, but how can we stop him without telling him why he must stay aboard the
Umborine
?”

Brydda tugged at his beard absently, glaring unseeingly at the dark sea. Then he looked at me. “Gwynedd wants Jakoby to lower three small ship boats before the
Umborine
enters the shoal passage, which is the only way into the main cove of the island. The Herders simply call it Main Cove, but Gwynedd says the Norselanders used to call it Fryddcove after one of their goddesses. He means to be aboard one of
the ship boats with as many of his people as safely possible in order to seek out a hidden inlet leading to a tiny cove his mother told him about called Uttecove. It will not be easy, for the inlet is perilously narrow and must be entered in the right way, but once the ship boats are in the cove, there is a way up to the island’s surface. I do not know why Gwynedd is so certain that the Faction has not learned of this secret way, but he is prepared to risk his life and the lives of others on his certainty. Once on the surface, he means to rouse the Norselanders who live there to fight the Hedra. Rushton means to go with him, but what if Gwynedd asks you to come with him, claiming that he needs your Talents? Given what I have seen, that is likely to stop Rushton from going.”

I nodded bleakly. “It will, but what is the
Umborine
to do?”

“Gwynedd’s idea is that we enter Fryddcove and make a lot of fuss, demanding this and that and posturing and making threats to draw the Faction’s attention. That will leave Gwynedd free to act behind their backs. It will also prevent Rushton from going ashore at once.”

“What if Beforetime weapons are used against you?”

“That is a possibility,” Brydda admitted. “However, since this is a Sadorian ship, I do not think anything will be done in haste, for the Hedra have no open quarrel with the desert lands. In any case, Rushton suggested that Jakoby demand to speak with Ariel. That way we can learn if he remained upon the island after Salamander left.”

“All right, so Gwynedd will go ashore, but what does he imagine he will do then? He cannot win against the Hedra in the few days he will have before Jakoby must take Rushton to Templeport.”

“Gwynedd’s primary purpose is to make sure there are no weapons or stores of plague seeds on Norseland that the
Faction can use. He thinks that much can be accomplished in a twoday with the help of the Norselanders who live there, hence his determination to make contact.”

“Do you know what Rushton is going to ask the tribes?” I said slowly.

Brydda’s eyes widened. “Ye gods! You cannot know. Yesterday, just before we left the meeting house in Aborium, Zarak rode in. Dameon had sent him across the river with instructions to find Rushton. As soon as Zarak crossed, Linnet summoned a horse and sent him riding for Aborium.”

My heart was beating fast. “What has happened?”

“Maryon came to Sutrium with a futuretelling that the slavemasters who hold the Red Queen’s land are planning to invade the Land. If they come, Maryon says, they will bring such a horde that the Land on both sides of the Suggredoon, the Norselands, and the Sadorian desert lands will all fall to them, and any who do not die fighting will be enslaved.”

I stared at him, aghast. “Maryon says they
will
fall? There is no hope?”

“There is no hope if they come, she says. There is some slight hope if they are prevented from coming.”

“You talk in riddles, or Maryon does,” I snapped.

“Maryon says a force must be mustered and carried by four greatships to the Red Queen’s land before the Days of Rain.”

“We do not have four …” I stopped, and understanding swept over me. “Rushton will ask the Sadorians for use of their two remaining spicewood greatships!”

Brydda nodded. “Two Sadorian ships, plus the
Stormdancer
and the ship that Dardelan has had built these two months, and we will just manage the four, though the
Stormdancer
will need repairs and Dardelan’s ship must be completed.
And all the ships will have to be especially fitted for such a journey.”

“What said Shipmaster Helvar about this?” I asked.

“He said he must consult with the ship’s proper master. Indeed, the
Stormdancer
left for Herder Isle even as Zarak set off. But the lad says the Norselanders were ferocious at the mere idea of losing a freedom so recently won.”

“I cannot see the tribes refusing their ships, given their hatred of slavery and the fact that their own land will be in danger, too,” I said.

“Jakoby says as much, but even so, the request must be made to the tribes, and if it is not made when they are together, someone must ride to each of the tribes to ask if they would agree to holding another conclave. This would be a task of many sevendays, perhaps even months. Maryon must have seen as much, or why urge Dameon to send someone after Rushton at all speed?”

“Ye gods. This is sickening news,” I said. “But even with all four ships filled with fighters, we will still be too few to take on the slavemasters’ hordes, there or here. It would be better to meet them here, for we would have the chance to prepare defenses, and we could use all the Hedra and soldierguards as well.”

“That would still not be enough, apparently,” Brydda said. “But Maryon insists that if four ships travel to the Red Land, the enslaved people will be inspired to rise against their masters.”

“But,” I said, and then stopped. Maryon was right; the ships would rouse the enslaved people,
if Dragon was aboard one of them
. Indeed, it would take only one ship to do it. Then something else occurred to me. “A journey begun in the Days of Rain will be terribly dangerous, for Reuvan once told me that, amongst shipfolk, the season is called the Days of Storm. And
if the ships survive that, they would still be traveling when wintertime came. They would also be beyond Land’s End, where few ships have ever traveled, and I have heard that the way from Land’s End to the Red Queen’s land is perilous. Do you know how to go from there? Does Dardelan or Gwynedd?”

“Gwynedd does not know the way, but he says there will be maps and charts on Norseland, for once upon a time, the Norse kings had some dealings with the queens of the Red Land,” Brydda said. “Getting those maps is another thing that Gwynedd hopes to accomplish while we are ashore.”

I nodded absently, turning over in my mind what Brydda had said and wondering at the neatness of a prophecy that would send to the Red Queen’s land ships, one of which would carry the lost queen whose mind contained a vital clue to finding something the Seeker needed. Was it a real futuretelling, I wondered, or merely a manipulation by the Agyllians?

Then it struck me that it was not just Dragon who would be aboard those ships. I would have to travel to the Red Queen’s land, too.

“Elspeth?” Brydda’s voice drew me back to myself. “I need to go and speak with Dardelan and Gwynedd about keeping Rushton aboard before he and Jakoby join us in the saloon.” He hesitated. “Under the circumstances, I think it best if you do not attend the meeting. Indeed, perhaps you ought to remain in your cabin for the time being. I will come later and tell you what has been decided.”

I nodded, but after he had gone, I remained at the side of the ship, gazing blindly out to sea and struggling to order my thoughts. A hand touched my arm, and I turned, expecting to see Brydda again, but it was Gilbert, carrying a lantern. I snatched my arm away, and a shadow crossed the armsman’s handsome face.

“You would rather be alone?”

I struggled with irritation and frustration, and finally I looked directly into his eyes and made myself ask evenly, “Why do you seek me out so constantly?”

Gilbert looked taken aback at my bluntness, and fleetingly I saw again the man I had liked in the Druid’s encampment. “Is not the answer obvious?” he finally said, and now he was smiling again.

“I fear that it is,” I said softly, deciding there was nothing for it but to be ruthlessly honest.

His smile faded. “I thought that you had some … liking for me when we were in the Druid’s camp. Was it merely a pretense to gain my help?”

“No,” I said. “You did not despise me for being a gypsy, and you were kind.”

He laughed roughly. “I felt that there was more than liking between us back in the White Valley.”

I forced myself to answer him truthfully. “I think there was some … some potential that we both recognized. I felt that you were a man I might have cared for under other circumstances.”

“You no longer feel that way,” Gilbert said.

I bit my lip and said awkwardly, “It seems you have changed. I felt it when I saw you in the Beforetime ruins.” He said nothing, and I struggled for clarity, feeling it was owed. “In the White Valley, you did not smile so much or give voice to elaborate flattery. The man I met in the Druid’s camp had a seriousness and a steadiness in him that … that anyone might feel they could rely upon. I do not think that man would have left his babies so easily, saying they had no need of him.”

Gilbert paled so much he looked ill, and then it seemed
that some pleasant facile mask he had worn melted away as pain flooded into his eyes and mouth. He turned abruptly to face the sea and drew a ragged breath. Then he said slowly and very softly, “There can come a moment in life when you see your heart’s desire, though you did not know of its existence until that moment. So it was for me when I first saw you. I was determined that I would protect you from Henry Druid’s prejudice against gypsies and against his foolish spoiled daughter’s jealousy. When Erin contrived that you would be given to that ape Relward, I near went mad thinking how to prevent it. But … you escaped and then I saw you carried off by the river. I thought you had died.”

“I … I did not know …,” I stammered.

“Of course you did not, for you saw only a vague potential in me, but I saw in you a blazing beacon of meaning and purpose. You understand how seeing such a wondrous radiance quenched might … change a man? I do not think I was utterly changed at once. So much happened so suddenly. You were gone, and then the Druid’s camp was destroyed in a firestorm while I was still too grief-stricken to think. Then I and the other few survivors realized that those from the camp had been sold as slaves. I rode with two other men who had survived, because we had been sent out to scout, but eventually we parted. I do not know where the others went. I had no clear plan but to go as far as I could. That single notion brought me to rose-colored Murmroth where I met Gwynedd. Meeting him was … was like an awakening from numbness, because, like you, he blazes with a purpose and potency that illuminates the lives of those about him. I joined his cause and threw myself into becoming his man and serving his dreams. For a time, I found contentment. But then I made a mistake.”