“Dealing with these bastards will make for a long night,” Adham warned, swiping a strand of seaweed from his cheek.
“We cannot kill them,” Leitos said. Adham gave him a sharp look, and he added, “As our prisoners told us, we do not have the seamanship to make the return journey. Besides, we will need them to build us another ship … if that is possible.”
“He speaks the truth,” Ba’Sel said, gazing at the leaning palm trees growing above a pale ribbon of shoreline. Higher, a shadowed and dense forest guarded the way to a mountainous land.
“One of our prisoners,” Leitos said, “named these the hunting grounds. He always laughed when he said it, as if our coming here would mean our doom.”
“I would speak with this man,” Ba’Sel said.
Leitos shook his head. “Telmon will never talk to the living again.”
Ba’Sel grunted. “Then perhaps one of these others will.”
“Rest assured, they will talk,” Adham assured him.
“First,” Ba’Sel said wearily, “we must get our men and the prisoners ashore. Then we set a guarded camp. I do not know what dangers these lands hold, but we must be prepared to meet them.”
Chapter 11
Hours later, in a burst of gold and crimson, the sunrise brightened the leafy green foliage that climbed the flanks of sharp ridgelines and soaring mountains, the highest peaks of which hid amongst banks of mist. From Leitos’s vantage point, the curving shoreline gave way to a terrace of black rocks to the south; to the north, pale sands climbed out of the sea and became dunes covered in patches of tough grass.
Ba’Sel’s thoughtful expression spoke of vague familiarity. “If I do not miss my guess, we are standing on the shores of Yato, the largest island in a chain of the same name. I saw a map as a boy. Hundreds of isles stretch to the south and east, like a great claw cutting through the Sea of Sha’uul.”
“And how does that serve us?” Ulmek groused.
Leitos knew the man was happy to have rescued Ba’Sel and the others, but he did not know how he felt about relinquishing command. Without question, he was back to his usual ill-tempered self.
Ba’Sel fingered a scabbed lump at his hairline. “Poorly, unless Pa’amadin favors us. Even before the Upheaval, those who flourished on these islands were a warlike folk. By all accounts, the Yatoans were not given to trade, or forgiving of outlanders. They proved so hostile in guarding their islands that even the Suanahad Empire, with its hunger for conquest, gave Yato a wide berth.”
“Yatoans,” Ulmek murmured. “Where have I heard that name?”
Ba’Sel glanced at Leitos and quickly away. “Zera was of these lands.”
“So she claimed,” Ulmek said. “Only a fool would trust the words of a lying demon-born. But that is of no matter. We should double the guard at once. Telmon suggested these lands are a danger to us.”
“No,” Ba’Sel said. “Our scouts have found no spies, we have suffered no trouble, and so we will show no outward signs of hostility. If there are any watchers, we will show them that we mean no harm, and perhaps they will help us.”
Ulmek shook his head in disgust, and Leitos found himself torn. Fighting the Faceless One’s minions had left him with a sense of purpose and fulfillment-after a long year of training, he had finally begun his avowed quest. And the night before, when Ba’Sel had spoken of making ready, Leitos had been sure the encounter with the Kelrens had changed the man’s heart. But it had not, and his renewed passivity left Leitos deeply troubled.
In the uncomfortable silence that followed, Leitos avoided his father’s pointed look, and tried not to think about standing on the place of Zera’s birth. Unlike Ulmek, he had no trouble believing Zera in this matter.
Feeling more exhausted than ever, Leitos settled onto the sand. Through the night, while the tide was out, the Brothers had gathered every weapon they could find from both ships. After that, they hauled the prisoners ashore, along with a small stockpile of barrels, crates, and any other supplies they could rummage. After the tide retreated again, Ba’Sel intended for them to return to the ships, and retrieve whatever else they could find of use.
Between the battle on Witch’s Mole and that aboard the Night Blade, the Brothers of the Crimson Shield had lost a dozen men. Thirteen lost, if the murmurs about Ke’uld’s chances proved true.
Leitos looked down the shoreline. Ke’uld briefly thrashed about, and Halan stilled him with a gentle hand. His scimitar lay across his legs, and he eyed the roped Kelrens.
With all that had happened since departing Witch’s Mole, Leitos had nearly forgotten about Ke’uld’s wounds. Now the Brother’s occasional outbursts served as a stark reminder of his declining strength. A fever burned in him, and even at a distance Leitos could make out the sweat coating his skin. Fresh bandages covered his shattered leg. Those wrappings only served to keep flies away. Had the Brothers still been on Witch’s Mole, they could have used various healing herbs and potions to aid him. But in this strange land, they had not had time to hunt for anything that might help.
“If he has any chance,” Ba’Sel said now, following Leitos’s gaze, “we’ll have to take off his leg at the knee. Even that may not be enough.”
“Better to give him to the sea, than to make him a cripple,” Ulmek countered. “It is what I would want for myself.”
“As would I,” Adham said, using a thick splinter to pick his teeth. “I have seen such wounds before. No man can survive the corruption that has seeped into him.”
“Before … before we do that,” Ba’Sel said, “I will ask him what he wishes.”
“Try as you will,” Ulmek allowed, “but Ke’uld may never be able to answer. More and more, he raves like a madman. His blood spreads the poison, blackening his veins. Soon, he will fall into a stupor.”
“I will not kill one of ours without making the effort to find out what he would choose for himself,” Ba’Sel said.
“And what of these Yatoans?” Ulmek said, refusing to let the matter rest.
“We do not know if enemies await us here,” Ba’Sel said. “There is just as much chance we have unknown friends spying upon us.”
“With so much doubt as to what these lands hold,” Adham advised, “we should put a few of these sea-wolves to the question.”
Ba’Sel closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. “In time, Izutarian, in time.”
Leitos looked away from Ba’Sel, trying not to hear the words that came unbidden to his mind. Weak … indecisive … useless.
Glaring, Ulmek abruptly jumped to his feet and strode down the shoreline.
Adham gestured to Leitos, and they walked to the surf. “I fear Ba’Sel has grown incapable of leading.”
Leitos thought to argue, but he found no words to counter his father’s observation. “What can we do?”
“What soldiers have always done,” Adham said grimly. “We follow his commands, until enough of us die that the living revolt.”
“Can we not reason with him?”
Adham toed a bleached shell half-buried in the sand. “Ulmek is his lieutenant, the man he should heed, and still Ba’Sel refuses to listen to him.”
“Maybe Ba’Sel refuses to listen,” Leitos said, “because Ulmek lives only for the destruction of his enemies.”
Adham shot him a quizzical look. “And all you have done in the last year, my son-the training, driving yourself beyond the requirements of even the Brothers of the Crimson Shield-you did those things because you wish to make amends with the Faceless One? Is yours not a heart bent on vengeance?”
Leitos frowned. “It’s different for me. I-”
“You lost your love,” Adham said bluntly. The breeze pushed back his gray locks, and he squinted against the glint off the sea. “Do you think Ulmek was born with rage and hate in his heart for the Faceless One … or do you suppose that he, too, has suffered loss?”