His only hope was that they were nowhere near the other ships the Master had brought. His only hope was that the Master would die before they came.
When he did, Argoth would feel it. For the thrall only had power when the Master was alive. When he died, so would the bond. Of course, he had read that the bond worked through a man like roots in the soil. So although the bond might die, the roots would remain, and it would take some time before all traces of the thrall were gone.
Argoth wondered how many thralls the Master had. Dozens? A hundred? Surely, the inlay by the pulpit was some thrall. And how many of his slaves were skir? Certainly Shegom was one of them.
He looked up and found that the sky was clear. The first evening stars shone in the heavens. He took a moment to get his bearings by them and considered trying to rig the sail.
A wind buffeted him, then another.
At first he thought it a normal gust, but it did not abate.
The sound of sea spray hasted toward the boat. Argoth turned and saw the skir wind racing to him.
Shegom.
He had heard of Skir Masters summoning whirlwinds to the field of battle, of men being picked up and carried away.
Argoth released the oar and immediately wriggled underneath the thwarts, wedging himself as best he could.
The wind knocked the boat, lifting it to one side and pushing it sideways. Then the pitch of the wind rose, screeching over the wales.
The oar jerked violently in its lock, then it broke free with a wrench and flew away into the air.
The pitch of the wind screaming over the wales rose until it howled.
The boat tipped precariously on its side and scudded over a wave. The dread-man tumbled out and disappeared beneath the water.
Sea spray kicked up, driving into Argoth’s face like needles. He shut his eyes against it and turned his face into the side of the boat.
The boat lurched, twisted, was tossed about like a leaf. And then it was airborne. He felt as if he were going to slide out and braced himself. But it wasn’t enough, he was slipping.
Moments later, through the water and spray he smelled the foul smoke of the seafire and felt the heat. Then the boat slapped down into the water. It bobbed then rocked.
Argoth opened his eyes. The sky was full of smoke.
When nothing happened, he wriggled halfway out from under the thwarts and looked around. All about him pieces of flotsam burned, smoke piling into the sky.
Someone shouted.
A hand grasped the wale.
Argoth kicked at the man’s head as he came over. He bent over to untie another oar so that he might use it as a weapon. But the boat rocked again.
Argoth turned, oar in hand.
Leaf stood before him, water running from his clothes into the boat. The skin about his eye was blackened and cracked from the burn. Raw pink and red flesh shone where much of his eye tattoo had been.
Argoth drew back to strike, but Leaf simply snatched the oar out of his hand and kicked him into the prow. Argoth’s head smacked against the side of the boat.
He tried to get up, but couldn’t seem to get his balance.
Another dreadman entered the boat.
Then Leaf reached over the side and pulled the Master up. Clutched to his breast was the weave that had been inlaid into the deck of the ship by the bowl.
Shegom’s thrall.
The Master wore no boots. The legs of his pants were scorched. The flesh underneath blistered.
A normal sailor tried to climb into the boat.
“What are you doing?” said the Master and kicked the man in the face.
Then he stepped over the thwarts to where Argoth lay and looked down upon him.
“You should have drowned yourself, Clansman. You should have tied a stone to your neck and jumped into the sea. For now you will taste the fury of the Glory of Mokad.”
“Dreadmen!” he shouted over the waves. “To me!”
MUSTER
T
alen lugged Legs until his collarbone felt like it was going to break. He rested. Picked him up again. Rested. He carried him across the two creeks, hid him in a canoe they’d found on the side of the river, and lugged him through the woods downstream and on the other side.
He’d scuttled their trail as best he knew how from any dogs that might be following. But that didn’t keep them from having to skirt around two more groups of men on the