Bewchard smiled. "Anything, Hawkmoon, that I have is yours, for you have done much for me and the whole of my city. You saved my life and you were responsible for destroying Narleen's age-old enemiesyou may have twenty ships if you wish them."
Hawkmoon was thinking deeply. He had it in mind to deceive the Warrior in Jet and Gold.
Chapter Eleven
THE PARTING
BEWCHARD ESCORTED THEM next afternoon to the quayside. The citizens were celebrating. A force of soldiers had invaded Starvel and routed out every last pirate.
Bewchard put his hand on Hawkmoon's arm. "I wish that you would stay, friend Hawkmoon. We shall be having celebrations for a week yet-and you and your friends should be here. It will be sad for me, celebrating without your company-for you are the true heroes of Narleen, not I."
"We were lucky, Captain Bewchard. It was our good fortune that our fates were linked. You are rid of your enemies-and we have obtained that which we sought."
Hawkmoon smiled. "We must leave now."
Bewchard nodded. "If you must, you must." He looked frankly at Hawkmoon and grinned. "I do not suppose that you still believe I am entirely convinced by your story of a 'scholar relative' interested in that sword you now wear?"
Hawkmoon laughed. "No-but on the other hand, captain, I can give you no better story. I do not know why I had to find the sword…" He patted the scabbard that now held the Sword of the Dawn. "The Warrior in Jet and Gold here says that it is all part of a larger destiny. Yet I am an unwilling slave to that destiny. All I seek is a little love, a little peace, and to be revenged upon those who have ravaged my homeland. Yet here I am, on a continent thousands of miles away from where I desire to be, off to seek another legendary object-and reluctantly. Perhaps we shall all understand these matters in time."
Bewchard looked at him seriously. "I think you serve a great purpose, Hawkmoon. I think your destiny is a noble one."
Hawkmoon laughed. "And yet I do not pine for a noble destiny-merely a secure one."
"Perhaps," said Bewchard. "My friend, my best ship is prepared for you and well-provisioned. Narleen's finest sailors have begged to sail with you and now man her. Good luck in your quest, Hawkmoon-and you, too, D'Averc."
D'Averc coughed into his hand. "If Hawkmoon is an unwilling servant of this 'greater destiny,' then what does that make me? A great fool, perhaps? I am unwell, I have a chronically poor constitution, and yet find myself dragged about the world in the service of this mythical Runestaff. Still, it kills time, I suppose."
Hawkmoon smiled, then turned almost anxiously to mount the gangplank of the ship. The Warrior in Jet and Gold moved impatiently.
"Dnark, Hawkmoon," he said. "You must seek the Runestaff itself in Dnark."
"Aye," said Hawkmoon. "I heard you, Warrior."
"The Sword of the Dawn is needed in Dnark," continued the Warrior in Jet and Gold, "and you are needed to wield it."
"Then I shall do as you desire, Warrior," Hawkmoon replied lightly. "Do you sail with us?"
"I have other matters to attend to."
"We shall meet again, doubtless."
"Doubtless."
D'Averc coughed and raised his hand. "Then, farewell, Warrior. Thanks for your aid."
"Thank you for yours," replied the Warrior enigmatically.
Hawkmoon gave the order for the gangplank to be raised and the oars to be unshipped.
Soon the ship was pulling out of the bay and into the open sea. Hawkmoon watched the figures of Bewchard and the Warrior in Jet and Gold become smaller and smaller and smaller and then he turned and smiled at D'Averc.
"Well, D'Averc, do you know where we are going?"
"To Dnark, I take it," D'Averc replied innocently.
"To Europe, D'Averc. I care not for this destiny. I wish to see my wife again. We are going to sail across the sea, D'Averc-for Europe. There we may use our rings to take us back to Castle Brass. I would see Yisselda again."
D'Averc said nothing, merely turned his head to look upward as the white sails billowed and the ship began to gather speed.
"What do you say to that, D'Averc?" Hawkmoon asked with a grin, slapping his friend on the back.
D'Averc shrugged. "I say that it would be a welcome rest to spend some time in Castle Brass again."
"There is something about your tone, friend. Something a trifle sardonic…" Hawkmoon frowned. "What is it?"
D'Averc gave him a sidelong glance that matched his tone. "Maybe I am not as sure as you, Hawkmoon, that this ship will find its way to Europe. Perhaps I have a greater respect for the Runestaff."
"You believe in such legends? Why, Amarehk was supposed to be a place of godlike people. It was far from that, eh?"
"I think you insist on the Runestaff's non-existence too much. I think your anxiety to see Yisselda must influence you considerably."
"Possibly."
D'Averc stared out to sea. "Time will tell us how strong the Runestaff is."
Hawkmoon gave him a puzzled -look before he shrugged, walking away down the deck.
D'Averc smiled, shaking his head as he watched his friend.
Then he turned his attention to the sails, wondering privately if he would ever see Castle Brass again. (This ends the third volume in the High History of the Runestaff)