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don t port someplace like Tyrhavven or Spidlaria.
 That s a long time to be on a ship, isn t it?
Behind Clerve, the cargo-master grinned even as he listened to Altara.
Justen grinned back.  It takes three to four times that long on the trip
west from Jera to the easternmost point of Hamor. It s even farther if you go
that way to Nordla.
Clerve shook his head and glanced beyond the black stones of the breakwater
and out into the nearly flat waters of the Gulf of Candar.
 Those crates of tools? asked the blond Nordlan officer, his eyes moving
from Altara to the wooden boxes.
 They re about seven stones apiece. Altara looked down at the Nordlan, a
man well above the average height of most from Recluce.
Justen buried a grin. Altara overtopped the tall Nordlan, and he suspected
that the man was finding it hard to look up to the older engineer.
 Seven stones?
 Metal-working tools. You can certainly handle a mere three crates on this
monster. And don t stick them in the bilges where they ll rust. Then you can
put the healers two small crates on top of ours.
 And where, Honored Engineer, would you have me place them?
 Never mind. Altara squatted and picked up one of the crates, slinging it
up onto a broad shoulder.  I ll just put it where it belongs. Then you can put
the others next to it.
 Uh& 
 Engineers! Get your gear. You, too, Justen, Clerve. Don t gape like some
backhill type from Mattra.
 We ll follow the engineers. Ninca, the chief healer, picked up her pack,
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as did the wide-faced man. Then she looked at Altara.  You ll make sure the
supplies-
 I ll make sure, Altara affirmed.
Krytella bent down for her pack.
Justen stooped and picked up the pair of heavy waterproofed canvas packs,
wondering how he had gotten suckered into volunteering to stand off Fairhaven
and the fearsome Iron Guard. The strange dream still lingered. Who or what was
the silver-baked woman?
 Let s gel moving. Altara marched toward the gangway.
Justen looked at the cargo-master trailing Altara and grinned. Even the
Nordlans were finding it hard to deny her, and it was their ship.
 Justen! Both Justen and Krytella looked up as Gunnar s lanky figure
marched along the pier. He waved a black staff.
 Get on board after your good-byes. Altara shook her head.  Clerve& follow
me.
The apprentice looked at Justen. Justen nodded, then turned.
After a moment, Ninca inclined her head to Krytella before following the
engineers.
 I m sorry I m late, Gunnar began,  but Turmin caught me at the dining
hall& and then Warin stopped by to give me this for you. Gunnar handed the
shining black-iron-and-lorken staff to Justen.  He said you d need it, even if
you do think personal weapons are obsolete antiques.
 But&  Justen shook his head as he took the staff. Warin? Giving up his
prized staff?  I can t take this.
 You have to. He said he d build a black-iron rocket and aim it at me if
you didn t. Anyway, that s why I was late.
 You re here. Justen grinned at his older brother.  And I m sure that
whatever Turmin said was important, too. He shook his head again.  Warin& I
can t believe it.
 What did Turmin say? asked Krytella.
 He thinks it s important that I take the next ship to Rulyarth. The
sandy-haired wizard shrugged and looked along the pier, where a half-score of
port workers and Nordlans loaded boxes and bales into the cargo net of the
crane, and lowered his voice.  He s talked to Gylart, and the old counselor
told him something that has Turmin stirred up. Turmin wouldn t tell me what,
but he s switched from reluctant agreement with my going to Sarronnyn to
something like enthusiasm.
 How do you feel about it? Although Justen felt Krytella at his elbow,
smelled the soft scent of trilia, and sensed her warmth, he continued to face
his older brother.
 Worried, I guess. Gunnar kept looking straight at Jus-ten.  But you,
younger brother& just take care of yourself.
 At least until you get there? Justen chuckled.
Gunnar hugged Justen for an instant before releasing him.  At least that
long, admitted the Black magician before looking at Krytella.  And you,
Healer& make sure he takes care of himself. He smiled quickly.
 I will, Gunnar. Krytella s eyes flicked to the stones of the pier for a
moment.  And you take care of yourself on your trip.
Justen swallowed at the not-so-hidden worry in the woman s voice.
 We weather types have a little advantage there, but I ll do what I can to
see that your trip isn t too rough. Gunnar grinned, then added, inclining his
head toward the gangway,  You d better go.
Justen glanced toward the ship and saw Altara striding back down the railed
gangway, still trailed by the Nordlan cargo-master.  I suppose so.
Gunnar stepped forward and gave Justen another hug, a quick one, which
Justen returned. Then the weather mage patted Krytella on the shoulder and
stepped back, watching as the two shouldered their packs. Justen held the
staff in his left hand.
Altara marched up to the remaining crates.  Clerve s waiting up there to
show you our spaces. She lifted another crate and turned to the cargo-master.
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 Can you or your boys get the last one of ours and the two for the healers and
put them all together?
 We can manage, Engineer. We have loaded the ship a few times.
 You know& you Nordlans didn t invent the steamship.
 But we re the best long-haul traders in the world, Honorable Engineer.
 Well said! Altara grinned, turned, and paused, looking at the three still
standing on the pier.  I said to stop gawking.
Justen motioned to Krytella, and the healer led the way up the gangway.
Clerve stood just forward of the funnels and waved as he saw Justen.  Over
here, Ser.
Krytella and Justen followed the apprentice down an open staircase.
 It s a ladder, they say, explained Clerve.
The Recluce contingent shared three narrow rooms, each with four bunks. The
forward bunk room was for Altara and the chief healer, Ninca, and her consort
Castin, the broad-faced healer. Justen found himself assigned the bunk over
Clerve in the room with Nicos and Quentel. Krytella shared the aft-most cabin
with Berol and Jirrl, the two women engineers,
After stuffing his packs into a doorless cubby at the foot of his too-short
bunk and laying the black staff to one side, Justen made his way topside,
where he joined Krytella at the starboard railing of the Clartham, midway
between the bowsprit and the paddles. They watched silently as the lines were
singled up, then reeled in, and as smoke poured from the funnels and the
paddles slowly turned.
The vibration from the heavy iron engines crept through the timbers of the
ship and through Justen s heavy boots. Slowly, slowly, the Clartham pulled
away from the pier and eased into the channel.
 I wish Gunnar were coming with us instead of traveling later. Krytella
watched the pier from where Gunnar had waved before turning and walking back
up the hill, apparently oblivious to Krytella s tears and her eyes focused
upon him.
How could Gunnar know the weather hundreds or thousands of kays distant and
not see the love in a woman s eyes from less than two cubits away? Justen
refrained from shaking his head.
 To begin with, he hadn t planned on coming at all.
 I know. He decided to come because he worries about you.
 That doesn t make a lot of sense. I can take care of myself. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]