had mentioned the danger of storms along this part of the coast. He scanned the horizon, uncertain as to what he should find. A mass of dark clouds hung in the east, but they were far away. Was that a storm?
He made his way back to the others near the base of the main mast. They were dozing in the sunlight, except for Drinagish. Although he looked as if he were asleep his mind groaned with the sea retch. Someone had placed a wooden bucket near him for he was too weary to make his way to the gunwales. Althak and Olcish were also awake. Althak was showing him his ornate armour and the boy was gazing with wide eyes at his bright, winged helmet. The Vorthenki placed it on the boy’s head. It immediately slipped forward, covering his eyes and he chuckled. Azkun watched them for a moment.
Beside Olcish, Althak really was large. He was like most of the Vorthenki, over six feet tall, and Olcish was only a small boy. Althak removed the helmet, it was uncomfortably heavy for Olcish. He placed it on his own head and pushed it forward into the fighting position so that most of his face was covered. All that could be seen were his blue eyes and part of his mouth. It turned him from a man into an avenging angel with bronze wings at his temples.
They were dragon wings. Azkun had not noticed before, but he had just been picturing the dragon for the dolphin. They were not feathered wings like the gulls but ribbed membranes like those of a dragon. One of them had taken a blow from a pirate’s sword and was bent out of line.
Althak removed his helmet and became himself again. He noticed Azkun and smiled a greeting. Azkun sat down beside him.
“I think there is a storm coming.”
“Yes,” said Althak, unsurprised, “there is. Omoth noticed dark clouds in the east not long ago. I've not yet told our sleeping friends and I dare not tell Drinagish!”
“You do not seem worried.”
Althak shrugged.
“The pirates were a greater threat. But we are in the hands of Kopth.” He glanced at the sleeping Anthorians. “At least I am,” he grinned. Then, seeing that Azkun was still concerned he added, “some ships are lost in storms along this coast every year, but not usually in this season. This storm will pass quickly and should not trouble us much.”
“Then there is no danger?”
“Not much. Shelim has gone below to make sure that everything is fastened securely. No doubt our friends here will be violently ill again.”
“Althak, I wish to ask you something about dragons.”
“You would ask me? Of course. But I haven't stood in dragon fire.”
“There is an island, or possibly a mountain near the sea, where the dragons live, is there not? Do you know it?”
Althak’s eyebrows rose suddenly.
“An island? Yes, yes there is. It's well known. The dragon isle of Kishalkuz.”
“Where is this island? Have you been there?”
Althak laughed. “Not I, nor anyone you will find. No one knows exactly where the island is. Somewhere in the east it lies, where the sun rises from the sea, it's said, and if any have found it none have returned. It's the home of Kopth and his household.”
“Then you cannot tell me how to find it?”
“Some have said they know the way. Some who have sought to gaze on the face of Kopth have set out to find Kishalkuz. But, as I said, none have returned.”
“Then how is it known to you?”
The Vorthenki looked at him shrewdly.
“Who would doubt the word of Kopth?”
“Kopth told you?”
“So I'm told. Kopth may walk among our people taking human form as he desires. It is his right.”
“I wish to go there one day, perhaps, when we have seen this Emperor that Menish talks of.”
“Perhaps… have you heard anything of Vorish?”
“No. He is a ruler, like Menish, I suppose.”
“Like and yet not like. Vorish is not like other men at all. You'll see the difference when you meet him.”
“Is he some sort of monster then? You speak as though he is.”
“It's difficult to explain. He's not a monster, though I've heard him called that. He has eyes that probe for the truth when one would, perhaps, rather the truth was hidden. He's fiercely just and often cruel, and for this, also, do the Vorthenki in Relanor love him.”
“You speak as though you, yourself, were no longer Vorthenki.”
Althak grinned. He looked down at little Olcish who was examining his great shield with the spiked boss. “Careful, it's sharp.” He turned back to Azkun with an oddly poignant look in his blue eyes.
“I am Vorthenki,” he said carefully. “I worship Kopth where these…” he nodded towards his sleeping friends, “revere Gilish and Aton. In Anthor there are many who call me barbarian for this. They think I should become one of them, I should take on their ways. But do you know, Azkun, that they marry one woman and never have another all their lives? That's their way. For myself I have one god and will not take another all my life. This, to me, seems right.”
“And yet?” said Azkun.
“And yet I live with the Anthorians instead of in Relanor or in the north where my people are. I'll tell you a story told to me by my father when I was the size of Olcish here.
“My father was a chieftain in the invasion of Relanor. He led three shiploads of Vorthenki warriors to Atonir under Sinalth, our warlord at the time. They had learned that Relanor was stripped of its armies in the war against Gashan so they came south along the route we now travel. All together there were a hundred and fifty ships, an enormous expedition. They approached Atonir under cover of night and overwhelmed the city before the next dawn. There was much fighting from the peasants but they only had farm implements and tools.
“The great palace was largely undefended. It was occupied by old men, veterans but too old to fight, who formed a nominal guard, and women sorrowing for their men lost in the north. You must understand that the Relanese women, like the Vorthenki women, take no part in battles and aren't trained for war.
“When the Invaders crashed down the great gates they mowed down the guards like wheat in the field and set about sacking the palace. There was no one to resist them.
“But they were mistaken. They surged up the first grand stairway and found flaming oil from the lamps cast in their faces, arrows rained down on them and rocks and stones. A javelin pierced my father’s armour and forced him to retire from the skirmish.
“At the head of the stairway stood a lone woman. There was only one, the others were weeping and hysterical in their apartments. This one chose to fight. She had stationed herself where they could approach her no more than two at once. When she had thrown her oil and spears she brandished a sword and taunted them to come and see which of them would die first.
“When they heard her voice they surged forward, for it was only a woman after all. The first two that reached her died with shocked surprise on their faces. She must have been good, that woman. She held up the Invaders for two hours. My father said he had never seen such skill with a blade. Over thirty men died before they were finally able to cut her down.
“Sinalth was so moved by her courage that he had her body placed with honour on the battle pyre with those of his own men who died. Nor did they strip her of her curious armour and weapons.
“It was only much later that my father learned who she was. Her name was Haragil. She was Menish’s sister.
“It was this that led me to Anthor to serve Menish. I'd never heard of such courage anywhere else, yet in Anthor it is almost commonplace. But I found more than that in Anthor.” He looked at the sleeping King with affection. “You've known him but a few days. The King of Anthor is a man one could cheerfully die for. Oh, Vorish is impressive. He's triumphant in battle, wise in judgements and his people love him. Vorish is just. He has to be, for we Vorthenki are a lawless people and he has had to set down laws and see them obeyed. He's fiercely determined in all he does, and I've never once heard of his failing a task he has set himself. He expects the same determination from those he commands.
