“You . . . you’re alive!” Bane stared at him in blank astonishment. Then his expression changed to one of joy. Running over to Hugh, the child threw his arms around him and hugged him close. “Oh, I’m so glad! I was so frightened! You saved my life!”
Detaching the clinging hands, Hugh held the prince at arm’s length. There was no doubting the sincerity either in the tear-choked voice or on the innocent face. There was no guile or deceit in the blue eyes. The Hand could have almost imagined that he had dreamed everything.
Almost, but not quite.
This Bane, so aptly named, had tried to poison him. Hugh put his hand around the boy’s white throat. It would be a simple matter. One twist. Snap the neck. Contract fulfilled.
The ship pitched and tossed in the storm. The hull creaked and groaned and seemed likely to fly apart at any moment. Lightning flashed around them; thunder boomed in their ears.
All your life you served us.
Hugh tightened his grasp. Bane gazed up at him; the child was trusting, shyly smiling. The assassin might have been soothing the prince with a loving caress.
Angrily the Hand hurled the boy away from him, sent him stumbling into Alfred, who caught him reflexively.
Stumbling past the two, heading for the steerage way, Hugh dropped to his hands and knees and heaved up his guts.
28
Bane was the first to regain consciousness. Opening his eyes, he stared around at his surroundings, at the dragonship and its other two occupants. He could hear a low rumble of thunder, and for a moment his terror returned; then he realized the storm was some distance away. Looking outside, he could see it was calm, with only a spatter of rain hitting the ship. The horrid motion had ended. Everything was still, nothing moved.
Hugh lay on the deck amidst the cables, his eyes closed, blood on his head and arm, his hand hanging on to one of the ropes as though his last effort had been to make some attempt to save them. Alfred lay sprawled on his back. The chamberlain did not appear to be injured. Bane remembered little about the terrifying descent through the storm, but he had the impression from somewhere that Alfred had fainted.
Bane, too, had been afraid, more afraid even than when the elf captain had tossed him over the side of the ship. That had happened swiftly, so there had been only a short time for fear. The fall into the storm had seemed to take forever, with terror growing stronger every second. Bane had really thought he might die of it. He recalled, then, his father’s voice whispering words that lulled him into sleep.
The prince attempted to sit up. He felt peculiar—not hurt, just peculiar. His body seemed too heavy, a tremendous force was weighing him down, yet there was nothing on top of him. Bane whimpered a little in fright and at the feeling of being alone. He didn’t like these strange sensations and he crawled over to shake Alfred, to try to wake him. Then Bane saw Hugh’s sword, lying on the deck beneath him, and the child had a thought.
“I could kill them both now,” he said, gripping the feather amulet tightly.
“We could be rid of them, father.”
“No!” The word was stern and sharp and startled him.
“Why not?”
“Because you need them to get you away from this place and bring you to me. But first, there is a task I want you to perform. You have landed on the isle of Drevlin in the Low Realm. A people known as Gegs inhabit this land. Actually, I am quite pleased that chance has brought you here. I was planning to come myself, when I acquired a ship.
“There is a great machine on this isle that very much intrigues me. It was built long ago by the Sartan, but for what purpose, no one has ever been able to discover. I want you to investigate it while you are there. Do this and find out what you can about these Gegs. Though I doubt if they can be of much use to me in my conquest of the world, it is wise to know as much as I can about those I intend to conquer. I might even be able to make use of them. You must watch, my son, for the opportunity.”
The voice faded. Bane scowled. If only Sinistrad would stop his irritating habit of saying “When I conquer, when I rule.” It was to be “we.” Bane had determined this.
“Of course, my father can’t know much about me yet; that’s why he’s never included me in his plans. When we meet, he’ll get to know me. He’ll be proud of me and he’ll be glad to share his power with me. He’ll teach me all his magic. We’ll do everything together. I won’t be lonely anymore.” Hugh began to groan and stir. Bane hurriedly lay back down on the deck and shut his eyes.
Hugh eased himself up painfully, propping his body with his arms. His first thought was one of absolute astonishment to discover he was alive. His next was that he would pay that elven wizard who cast the spell on his ship double what he charged for magic and feel that it was cheap. His next was for his pipe. Reaching into the soiled and sodden velvet tunic, Hugh discovered it safe, unbroken.
The Hand glanced at his companions. Alfred was out cold. Hugh had never in his life known anyone to pass out from sheer terror. Marvelous person to have around in a crisis. The boy was also unconscious, but he was breathing steadily, his color was good. He hadn’t been hurt. Hugh’s future security was alive and well.
“But first,” muttered the Hand, edging across the deck to the boy, “we need to get rid of daddy, if that’s who this really is.”
Moving slowly and cautiously, careful not to wake the child, Hugh slid his fingers beneath the silver chain from which the feather amulet was suspended and started to lift it from around the boy’s neck.
The chain slid through his fingers.
Hugh stared at it incredulously. The chain had not slipped off his fingers but through them—literally! He had seen it pass right through solid flesh and bone with as much ease as if his hand had been as insubstantial as that of a ghost’s.
“I’m imagining things. The bump on the head,” he said, and grasped the chain, this time firmly.
He held nothing in his hand but air.
Hugh realized then that Bane’s eyes had opened, the boy was watching him, not angrily or suspiciously, but with sadness.
“It won’t come off,” he said. “I’ve tried.” The prince sat up. “What happened? Where are we?”
“We’re safe,” Hugh said, sitting back and drawing forth his pipe. He’d smoked the last of the sterego, not that he had any way to light it even if he hadn’t. He clamped the stem in his teeth and sucked on the empty bowl.
“You saved our lives,” Bane told him. “And after I tried to kill you. I’m sorry. I truly am!” The limpid blue eyes lifted to gaze at Hugh. “It was only that I was afraid of you.”
Hugh sucked on the pipe and said nothing.
“I feel so strange,” continued the prince in easy conversation, that one small matter between them having now finally been cleared up. “Like I’m too heavy for my body.”
“It’s the pressure down here, the weight of the air. You’ll get used to it. Just sit still and don’t move.”
Bane sat, fidgeting. His gaze went to Hugh’s sword. “You’re a warrior. You can defend yourself the honorable way. But I’m Weak. What else could I do? You are an assassin, aren’t you? You were hired to kill me?”
“And you’re not Stephen’s son,” Hugh countered.
“No, sir, he is not.”
The voice was Alfred’s. The chamberlain sat up, looking around him in confusion. “Where are we?”
“My guess is we’re in the Low Realm. With luck, we’re on Drevlin.”
“Why luck?”
“Because Drevlin’s the only continent down here that’s inhabited. The Gegs will help us if we can make it to one of their cities. This Low Realm is swept constantly by terrible storms,” he added in explanation. “If we’re caught in one out in the open ...” Hugh finished his sentence with a shrug. Alfred blanched and cast a worried glance outside. Bane squirmed and twisted to see. “It’s not storming now. Shouldn’t we leave?”