She shook her head slowly. "Not yet. If they don't move out tomorrow I'll reconsider, but I can't afford to lose any more of you. For now we wait and if they move north again tomorrow, we'll follow."
Steb turned away angrily, and several others groaned.
"I guess nobody'll be going by ship!" exclaimed Rhylin, gesturing toward the sea again.
The anchored vessel was on fire. As they watched in amazement, the rigging caught fire and sheets of flame spread to the sails.
"Bilairy's Balls, they scuttled her!"
Jareel gasped. "A fire couldn't spread that quickly unless someone meant for it to. What the hell are they up to?"
Beka settled cross-legged on the grass, watching the reflection of the flames dancing across the water. "I guess we'll just have to stick with them until we find out."
The following morning Alec's guards woke him at dawn and led him to an iron cage mounted in the back of a small cart, the sort strolling players used to transport their trained animals. A thick mattress covered the floor of it, and there was a canvas awning over the top, but it still stank faintly of its former occupants.
Thero was already inside, seated cross-legged in the far corner. Like Alec, his hands were no longer tied, and he'd been allowed to keep his tunic and cloak.
"What a mangy pair of bear cubs," Ashnazai sneered, coming up to the bars behind Alec.
Alec moved away from him, although there wasn't really anywhere to go; the cage was only ten feet on a side.
"Lord Mardus is very busy now that we have landed, so I will be looking after you now," the necromancer went on.
He wrapped his hands around two of the bars, and Alec saw blue sparks dance over the iron, as if the cage had been struck by lightning. He jumped in alarm, and Ashnazai smiled his thin, unpleasant smile. In the clear light of the morning sun, his skin had a damp, unhealthy look, like the flesh of a toadstool.
"Don't you fear, dear Alec. My magic won't hurt you. Not unless you try to get out. And of course, you are far too intelligent to do anything so foolish."
Still smiling, he walked away. He looked like a winter scarecrow as the wind off the sea tugged at his dusty brown robe.
Hatred boiled in Alec's veins. Never in his life had he wanted so badly to kill a man.
When Ashnazai disappeared beyond a row of tents,
Alec turned his attention to the camp around him.
The back of the cart afforded a good view. From up here he could see the ranks of small white tents belonging to the soldiers and the herd of horses staked out beyond. The column that had met them on shore had at least fifty riders, as well as a crowd of people who were not in uniform and had the look of prisoners, although he was too far away to be certain. They had slept in we open under the watchful eye of swordsmen and archers. Mardus had brought at least a score of men of his own, making it a
formidable force, all in the black uniforms of the marines. Going to the other side of the cage, he could see the smoking remains of the
Kormados lying in the shallows like the skeleton of some wretched leviathan.
What happened to her crew? he wondered. They'd even burned the longboats.
He didn't recognize the pair of soldiers who brought him breakfast a short time later. He spoke to them in the hope that they spoke some Skalan. If they did, they didn't let on.
Giving him a scornfully direct look, they passed some remark between them, spat on the ground, and walked off a few paces to join the other guards assigned to watch him.
Alec hadn't really expected better from them.
Sitting down beside Thero, he put a bit of bread in the young wizard's hand. When Thero did nothing, Alec said, "Eat."
Thero raised the bread to his mouth and took a bite. Crumbs fell into his beard as he slowly chewed and swallowed. Alec brushed them off and gave him a cup of water.
"Drink," he ordered wearily.
The column formed up at midday and set off north along the coast. The northwest coast of Plenimar was wild, rugged country. The track they followed wound in and out of swamps, meadows, and forests of pine and oak, always with the shadow of mountains on their right and the sea in sight on their left. The farther north they moved, the more forbidding the coastline became. Rocky shingle gave way to red granite ledges and cliffs.
A cold, constant wind sighed through the trees, stirring the twisted branches of the jack pines and bringing Alec the sweet scents of the forest. It was colder here than in Skala, but he guessed that it must be sometime in mid-Lithion by now.
The nail was his talisman, his one remaining secret and symbol of hope. It was too large to keep in his mouth without attracting notice, but he didn't dare let it out of his possession, even to hide it in the mattress tick. Instead, he pierced it securely into the folds of his clothing. Recalling the incident on the ship, he was careful to keep it hidden from Thero, in case the necromancers or dyrmagnos decided to use the wizard to spy on him again.
So, keeping it hidden as best he could, Alec bided his time, waiting for some opportunity to present itself.
Guards surrounded the cart day and night, but even without their presence he'd have hesitated to attempt picking the lock;
Ashnazai's little warning demonstration with the bars suggested that such an effort would be futile and probably dangerous. It was a frustrating situation. He recognized the type of lock securing the door and knew the nail would have been more than adequate for the job.
It was clear from the first that Vargul Ashnazai was relishing his new commission. He had none of Mardus' deceptive smoothness, but contented himself with riding along beside the cart like a dour specter.
Alec did his best to ignore him as the bear cart rolled and jounced northward along the rutted coastal trail. Nonetheless, he was often aware of the necromancer's gloating gaze.
Their first night on the road the column camped in the shelter of an ancient pine grove. The sound of surf was loud. Looking west past the huge, straight trunks, Alec could see the white spume of the waves as they thundered against the ledges. It reminded him of the sea sounds of his dreams, but it was not quite the same.
As darkness fell, another cheer went up and he guessed that the comet must be visible again, although he couldn't see up through the branches. Much later, he heard agonized screams in the darkness and knew that the sacrificial ritual was being carried out again somewhere nearby. Even the guards around the cart shifted uneasily and several made warding signs.
The cries went on longer this time. Feeling cold and sick, Alec moved closer to Thero's sleeping form and covered his head with his cloak.
Less than a year before, a younger, more innocent Alec had lain awake all night in Asengai's dungeon, trembling and weeping at every fresh cry that echoed from the torturer's room.
Weeks of death and torture in Mardus' company had almost emptied him of such emotion. Pressing his hands over his ears, he drifted into a restless doze with the survivor's uneasy prayer of relief: This time, at least, it wasn't me.
In his nightmare there was no invisible pursuer this time, only the hoarse screams leading him on, faster and faster. With tears of frustration coursing down his cheeks, he gripped the useless arrow shaft and ran until his chest ached. Rounding a corner, he staggered to a halt, his way blocked by a section of collapsed wall.
A thrill of hope shot through him at the sight of the ray of sunlight streaming in through a jagged break high in the stonework. From outside came the familiar rush and rumble of surf.
Clambering up the pile of broken stone, he squeezed out through the hole—and found himself standing alone on a granite ledge surrounded by thick fog that shrouded the view on all sides. Overhead, the faint disk of the noonday sun burned through the mist.