So he had escaped from the raiders. He wondered if his occult genius included more than just farsight and mastery over animals. Could there be such a thing as a talent for escaping from awkward situations?

Mainland! Apart from a few yards of turbulent water; he was within reach of Zark. A long walk, maybe, but possible. Inos might be in Hub, of course, or back in Krasnegar, or anywhere; but he'd told her he was coming, and that meant following her to Zark, and if he couldn't find her there, then he'd try the other places afterward. Now he could begin, and that was very satisfyinga"He had failed to destroy Kalkor, but by all the G.o.ds he had tried! Tried his d.a.m.ndest. He felt even more satisfied when he looked back at that effort. Maybe, just maybe, he could take a little pride in that honest failure. He must no longer think of himself as a stableboy. He was a man now. He hadn't been one long enough to really get to know himself. Oh, he was accustomed to his size; he knew how his ugly face looked, and the amus.e.m.e.nt on other people's faces when they registered it and tried to place him, and he had accepted his absurdly furry faun legs. But the stranger behind his eyesa"he was still an untested quant.i.ty. Now he could begin to hope that the man in there was not one to be ashamed of. Nice try, lad, nice try! Not bad at all, faun.

So? Maybe it was time to start a.s.serting himself. Maybe he, too, had a destiny to find.

Dragons, huh?

He was unsurprised, an hour or so later, to sense a boat coming from the south, riding the last curl of the tide. It was a c.u.mbersome craft, hollowed from a single great log, being paddled by a burly, naked savage. Even in the dark, farsight said that his hair and mustache and stubbly beard were jotunnish silver.

"Shipmate ahoy!" Rap called.

The boat turned in his direction and a familiar voice came on the wind: "How much will you pay for supper?"

"All the money I've got."

The tidal race was slackening now, and the wind dying. Rap shouted directions, and in a few minutes the st.u.r.dy craft thumped against his rock. He grabbed hold of one side.

"Here, take the painter," said Gathmor. "There's nothing to tie it to. "

"Tie it round your neck! Tide's turning, so we'll get a free ride back. You never heard of the tides in the Dragon Sea? Stir it like soup." He was grinning in the dark.

Rap looped the rope round his leg. "The villagers let you borrow this? "

"The villagers had the sense to be long gone. They must know a raider when they see one. I helped myself, but I expect they won't mind when we explain. If they do, I'll kick their heads in. "

Gathmor, apparently, was restored to his old self. "We're in Dragon Reach?"

"Right. "

"I thought no one lived here?"

Gathmor shrugged, and pa.s.sed up a basket. "Help yourselfa"you can see better than I can. No, there are people here. It must be like living on the rim of a volcano. Escaped convicts, I expect. Shipwrecked jotnar, merfolk . . . runaway slaves, of course. They'll be a rag-bag lot, but probably quite friendly. So I've heard."

"But dragons?"

"I said. Like living on a volcano, and people do that. But remember that it's metal that attracts dragons. Gold, of course, or silver, but any metal to some extent. There wasn't as much as a nail in that hamlet that I could see. Stone axes, stone knives. If they can get by without metal, the dragons may not bother them much. "

"You warned them?" Gathmor was an infinitely more powerful swimmer than Rap.

"I told you, lada"they'd already gone. But I would have done. They might have thumped me first, of course, seeing as how I'm a jotunn, but I figured if you'd survived you'd be along here somewhere. So I thought I d come and look for you. "

"Thanks." Then Rap added cautiously, "I think there's another somewhere. "

"Who?"

"The minstrel, maybe. " If it was Darad or Andor, Rap would be happy to let him die of starvation and exposure. Jalon or Thinal would be worth saving. Sagorn it would never be, not yet. Having laid a selection of fruits and crusts beside him on the rock, Rap pa.s.sed the basket back down to the canoe. "Did he jump, too?"

"I didn't see him, but. . ."Rap considered trying to explain, and weariness settled over him like a blanket of snow. "I think maybe he did. "

Gathmor grunted, his mouth full of black bread. "You really tried to sink the longship?"

"Yes."

"Nice try! Good man!" The jotunn chewed for a while. "Wish I'd felled the b.a.s.t.a.r.d with that ax, though! Never saw a man jump like that."

"He has farsight, too," Rap said sadly.

"Stow that!" Gathmor would never discuss the occult, nor let it be discussed in his presence. Sailors believed such talk was unlucky.

But obviously Kalkor had seen the battle-ax coming. When he had wanted a harp for his minstrel, he had gone straight to the correct sack among a boatful of loot. The test with the razor had been a lot less dangerous than it seemed, for he had been watching all Rap's muscles, as Rap had been watching his. He had known the dangers of the reef and understood them perfectly, waiting until the last minute just to be certain of Rap's ill intent. Kalkor had never needed a seer; he was one.

"What're you going to do next?" Rap asked, nibbling at a thickskinned fruit he did not recognize. It was sickly and bitter at the same time, and the juice ran down into his stubble.

The jotunn paused in his chewing and bared his teeth. "Find an Imperial post and warn them of Kalkor. If we can get word to the navy soon enough, they might bottle him up here."

"How far?"

"Let's see . . . We pa.s.sed Flame Cape two days agoa""

"We did?"

"We did. Clouds. Birds. Wave patterns. Those northerners don't know these waters. I wasn't certain it was Flame, of course, but I knew we were close to land. So two days northeast of that . . ." He pondered for a moment, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up his face. "We must be close to Pithmot. Dragon Neck, they call the bit next the mainland. Not far to Puldarn, but it might still take us days. The devil may be long gone by then. Not much chance of catching him, really." He fell to brooding, chewing as impa.s.sively as an ox, rocking to and fro as waves flowed under him. The painter tugged stubbornly at Rap's ankle.

"Then," Gathmor said at last, "from Puldam we head home to Durthing. The other crews'll be in now, or very soon. Expect they're organizing something."

"Hunt him down?" How could anyone ever hope to comer a single raider on the immensity of the four oceans?

"Course not. We'll go to Gark. Return the complimenta"burn his steadings, carry off the young women."

Rap shuddered. He could see where the manpower would come from, and the galleys could be adapted readily enough, but. . . "Where do you get the weapons?"

"The praetor. Impire's always willing to support an outing like that."

Of course. It would never end. Moreover, Gathmor was obviously a.s.suming that he still had the right to give Rap orders and have them obeyed. That was a matter that would have to be settled soon, but this was neither the time nor the place. It would mean a fight. "You're feeling better, anyway."

Gathmor bristled. "And what does that mean?"

"Just that I'm glad!" Rap said hastily. Yet the sailor had made a miraculous recovery from the paralysis that had seized him aboard Blood Wave. That withdrawal could have been genuinely due to weakness and shock, but it had more likely been faked. While a faun could cower and beg for food, another jotunn doing so might provoke a lethal contempt. His strange lethargy could very well have saved Gathmor from cold-blooded execution, but he would never admit that he had stooped to using deceit.

So change the subject quickly.

"I'd like to explore a little farther north before the tide turns, sir. If you don't mind."

Gathmor grunted uncooperatively.

"I thought I caught a glimpse of the minstrel jumping," Rap said with complete untruth, "but if you think it's too dangerousa""

"We can risk it. Get in, then."

The canoe was an absurdly awkward thing, constantly shipping water, but it was better than swimming or walking. Just around the next headland, Rap's farsight detected Jalon stretched out on a small patch of sand. He was unhurt, and effusively grateful for being rescued. The prophecy had pa.s.sed its test and the trio was now complete.

The tide began to ebb, and soon the clumsy dugout was whirling southward, perilously overloaded. Jalon had deliberately followed the other captives over Blood Wave's side, which was a surprising act of courage or desperation from him. Although he had already guessed that this deserted countryside must be Dragon Reach, he did not seem to connect it with the vision in the magic cas.e.m.e.nt. Any of the other four would have done so, but Jalon was notoriously impractical. When the dragon appeared, he would call Sagorn and the prophecy would be fulfilled, the hidden ending revealed.

Gathmor did not know of the prophecy, and his sole intent now was to be revenged on Kalkor. Dragons held no interest for him.

So Rap was the only one who could see what was going to happen. He had his own ambitions, and it felt like his turn to be ruthless for a change.

Ever since the night encounter with Bright Water's fire chick in the Gazebo, he had known that his mastery over animals could control dragons. Neither Sagorn nor any of his four alternates knew that, not having been there, and Rap could see how this situation might be. used in the near future to extract certain information. He would have to fake enough terror to deceive Sagorn.

That might be the tricky part, for of course he would be in no real danger.

3.

The little hamlet had no name. Its people were mostly old or middle age, with few young adults and even fewer children. They were a varied lot, as Gathmor had predicted: hulking trolls, tall jotnar, squat imps, and a couple of male fauns like shorter, slighter versions of Rap himself, plus people of obvious mixed blood. He was curious to fa.r.s.ee one of the women being hustled away by two men as the strangers arrived. They put her in the farthest shack and stayed there with her, as if guarding.

Among the adults, men far outnumbered women, and many of both bore ownership brands to prove that slavery still lingered in the outer reaches of the Impire. All seemed bitter and listlessa"from sickness, perhaps, or poor diet, or just excessive toil. Everyone and everywhere stank of fish.

On the edge of the firelight, the naked castaways were challenged, and came to a halt before a bristle of spears and axes, tight-clutched in male hands and backed by the glint of angry, distrustful eyes in shadowed faces.

Gathmor told his story, or the parts that mattered, and for an uneasy few minutes after that Rap was acutely aware of numbers and the utter lack of law. Only brute force reigned here in the wilds. He saw the poverty and emaciation; he smelled the resentment. Who was he to come begging at such a door?

Then a woman called out from behind the ring of men, "Bring you metal, strangers?"

"No metal!" Gathmor said. "We have nothing, as you can see."

"Be welcome then."

With no argument, but certainly without enthusiasm, the men accepted her decision and lowered their weapons. Clothes were pa.s.sed forward, and the visitors brought into the group.

Thus Rap soon found himself joining a single great circle, cross-legged around the central fire. The fare thrust upon him was spa.r.s.e, fish and roasted roots, but he felt guilty at accepting even that, hungry though he was. His meager portion was larger than any other in sight, and he could see the gaunt children huddling behind their elders and peering out at the newcomers with sullen awe. He thought they needed the food more than he did.

The buildings on the edge of the firelight were ramshackle hovels of driftwood and wicker; sparks and smoke drifted up into indistinct overhanging boughs, and somewhere the stream made excited chatter on its way to the sea. The night was heavy and sticky and rife with insects. In the distance, surf boomed an endless, mindless, changeless knell.

Across from Rap, Gathmor sat beside the hamlet's wise woman, an ancient half troll named Nagg. She was undoubtedly the ugliest person Rap had ever seen, a giantess of haggard skin and crooked bones, scanty of tooth and hair. Gathmor and Jalon had done a poor job of concealing their mirth at the idea of a wise troll, but Rap suspected that much cunning might lurk behind that nightmare parody of a face. On Stormdancer he had prized Ballast as a friend and one of the best men aboard; in Durthing he had concluded that the trolls were rarely as stupid as they often pretended. It had been Nagg alone who had chosen to admit Gathmor and his companions; the villagers had accepted her decision at once, as if her judgment could be trusted.

She nodded and clucked and drooled while Gathmor explained how he must hasten on to Puldarn to warn the Imperial navy of the raider, but in his efforts to seem friendly, he became pompous. "We shall not tell of meeting you," he said. "We shall not report this village."

Nagg screeched with merriment even as she stuffed her mouth full of fish. "Tell all you want, jotunn," she mumbled. "You've seen the marks here. Some have been here long enough." She pulled her rags aside to show her own shoulder. "Was only a child when I left the Impire: Long, long ago, sailor. Legions don't chase runaways into Dragon Reacha"right?" she appealed to the others, and they hooted and laughed. "Lots more like us along the coast, too. Here and there."

Gathmor flinched as she patted his thigh.

"Gold tastes best," she said, "but bronze near as good, they say. Nothing hots up a dragon more'n a well-armored warrior. It'll waste half a country partying after." She cackled and chewed some more.

And so the talk inevitably turned to the dragons, and metal. The villagers themselves possessed no metal at all; they sc.r.a.ped their narrow living from the miserous land with tools of wood and stone. Knives of fractured dragon gla.s.s were sharp enough to shave with, although they soon lost their edge. To raise crops the women turned the sod with wooden plows pulled by men or other women. Men speared or netted fish, children scrounged roots and berries from the woodlands. To Rap it was the life of a brute, worse than anything any sane slaveowner would inflict on his stock, but the fisherfolk seemed to think freedom alone worth something, and themselves better off for it. He could not visualize a past bad enough to be worse than their present.

Yes, dragons came over once in a while, Nagg admitted placidly, but rarely threatened unless they sensed metal. In her life she could recall only two attacks. You could see them dance in the dawn sky almost any morning if you lookeda"oftentimes one or two, rarely a whole blaze of them. They would not fly over water, not usually.

"Gold is what draws them most?" Rap asked his neighbor, an elderly, crooked-tooth faun named something like Shyo S'sinap.

The old man nodded so vigorously that his scraggy neck and straggly beard flapped. "Wonn'll find a gold ring at ten leagues, so's said."

Gathmor described Blood Wave's cargo, and his audience reacted with stark disbelief. That much gold should have fetched worms from all over Dragon Reach. The drakes did fly over water sometimes, and a shipful of gold would be ample excuse. Kalkor's luck was apparently effective even against dragons, Rap thought.

Just a couple of good handfuls might do it, Shyo opined solemnly.

Rap chuckled around the chunk of coconut he was gnawing. "You don't have any handfuls handy, though?"

The old man screwed up his wrinkles in a smile, letting firelight scroll shadows on his leathery brown face. "Did once. *Bout thirty years ago, I expect." He noted Rap's doubt with satisfaction and snickered. "Used to work in the gold mines!"

Rap glanced at the faded numbers burned into the bony shoulder. Then he looked at the old faun's protruding ribs, his furry faun legs, thin as a spider's. He glanced around the dilapidated hovels at the edge of the dark. "And this is better?"

"Freedom, lad!"

"You can't eat freedom. Freedom doesn't keep you warm of a night, or heal your children'sa""

"Ever seen a man worked to death as an example to his mates?" the old man asked, wheezing softly. "Ever watched your best friend die of shock after he'd been gelded?"

Rap shook his head. He'd spoken rashly.

The faun bared the skewed yellow pegs in his mouth. "Or get Nagg to tell you how it feels to be kept as breeding stock, raising mongrel quarry boys. Harkor, there . . . The bones in his back are fused. See the slope of his shoulders? That's what slave work does."

"How about the others, then? Not all of you were slaves."

"No. Srapa, there? Killed a man who raped her. He was of a good family. Hers wasn't, so she had to run. Real beauty, she was, when she got here." The old man sighed, shaking his head. He stopped his pointing and just stared at the fire for a moment.

"Gave me a son once. Was going to look like me when . . . He died. We got thieves here, o'course. Honesty's easier when you're not hungry, for some reason. Widows. Unwanted concubines and embarra.s.sing b.a.s.t.a.r.ds. Mutineers? We have several mutineers. A spiteful centurion's worse than a bad slave boss, lad, 'cause he needn't worry about what you cost his master. "

Rap wiped his forehead and wished he could ease back from the heat of the fire; but that would seem as if he were moving away from the smelly old man. "You've got a merwoman here, too?"

"Evil rend me! How's you know that? You planning on staying?"

"No."

Shyo scowled. "That's the only way you'll get a share."

"I didn't mean that! " Rap shouted, louder than he meant. "Sure you didn't?" The old man looked angry and suspicious.

"All I meant was why would a merwoman be here?"

"Same reason as any of us, of course! She stays because the outside's worse. She came by chance, but she stays *cause it's better. "

"What sort of chance?" Rap's mouth asked the question before he could stop it. It was none of his business. He had never seen a mermaid before and he was naturally curious. This one wasn't young, but the way she was cavorting with her guards in the most distant shack suggested that the old stories had a lot of truth in them.

"She was shipwrecked. She and her man."