The wind grew stronger, and colder. The refugees huddled together for warmth. Thick cloud was engulfing the stars.Blackwood stirred, restlessly. 'Let's-' he said.'Let's nothing,' said Drake sharply.
And nothing they did for some time.
Occasionally, noise came from the town. Shouts. Doors slamming. A suggestion of protest. A cry which might almost have been a scream.
Then a dog started to bay.'A dog!' said Blackwood.
'Nay, man,' saidDrake. 'It's a nightingale. Yes, a nightingale with its voice a little harsh from eating iron filings.'
'Stop playing the fool!' said Blackwood. Tt'sadog. Isn't it, Miphon?''It sounds like a fruit-bat to me,' said Miphon.The dog gave voice again. It was closer.
'If it's a fruit bat, then it's a man-hunting fruit-bat,' said Blackwood. 'We'd better get ready to do battle.'
But the dog was on the scent of a chiz, and came no closer to the fugitives.
For some time, the sounds of a dog hunting persisted. Then they were replaced by the sounds of a dog being beaten for incompetence. While the dog was Drake's favourite animal, on this particular occasion he felt no sympathy for canine suffering.The hunt moved to the harbour.
Rowing boats came and went on the darkened waters. Lanterns gleamed on the sea. Then:
'Look!' said Drake. 'That furthest light! It's on our boat! They're on our boat!''They know we're here, then,' said Miphon.
'We should have taken to sea when we first saw them coming in,' said Blackwood.
'Man, you're a fine one to talk!' said Drake savagely. 'You didn't even believe the incoming boats existed. You thought I was tricking you outside for a throat-cut. Well, man, that was your mistake. Now – mark the cloud. When it covers out the last starshine, we move.'
And, soon enough, they did. All went into the bottle but for Drake, Blackwood, Miphon, and two soldiers by the names of Scouse and Klupping.
They went catfoot down to the beach. Drake, in the lead, found a dinghy by barking his shins against it. A scrape, a splash – and they were afloat. The oars made an abominable noise as Drake and Klupping rowed.
A shout came from the shore.
'Quiet, now,'said Drake. 'Klupping! Rest on your oars!' The dinghy floated. Drake, listening, heard wind- drivenwavelets slapping against a nearby fishing boat. 'Let me row solo,' said Drake.
And sculled toward the fishing boat as quiet as he could. He came up under the bows.
'You sitting aft,' said Drake. 'What's your name? Scouse, isn't it? Right, grab the boat's anchor rope. Aye, and hold us steady. Now quiet, everyone.''Let's go aboard,' said Blackwood.'Nay, man,' said Drake. 'Wait. Listen. Watch.'
Yot's people were being noisy. There was a lot of shouting. A lot of confusion. Someone cried out:'They've put to sea!'Further shouts ordered pursuit.
Soon at least three of Yot's boats had raised sails and were trying to tack for the harbourmouth against the incoming wind. Out in the night there was the sound of a heavy collision as a boat underway ran into one which was anchored.'Now,' said Drake, 'go aboard. One at a time. Quiet like.'This they did.'What now?' said Blackwood.
'Let Yot and his friends enjoy their nightmare,' said Drake. 'Chasing around a strange harbour by night in total darkness. They're fools to be trying it, and we'd be greater fools to join them.'
'Let's go ashore,' said Miphon, 'and rally the islanders against Yot.'
'Oh,' said Drake, 'that's nice fighting talk, that's for sure. But can we trust them? What's Yot been doing ashore? What' s he been saying? Like as not the islanders know about the death-stone by now. Aye, and maybe the bottle, if he knows about such.'
'It's no secret,' said Miphon. 'We had a whole army in it once, so the bottle and its nature is known through gossip to every dog in Lorford.'
'Then let's wait,' said Drake. 'Man, there's an outgoing tide at dawn. We'll leave on that tide, with the first hint of light.'
And a long, cold watch they had of it, waiting for the dawn, with the wind steadily strengthening and the rocking of the anchored boat increasing.
When there was barely light enough to see by, Drake had sail hoisted. Then they cut the anchor rope and began to tack toward the harbour mouth against the incoming wind. Two boats gave pursuit.'Only two!' said Blackwood. 'That's good!'
But, as they approached the harbour mouth, they saw three boats coming in. Drake guessed what had happened. Three of Yot's boats had got out to sea in the night before realizing their quest was hopeless; they had then played safe, keeping clear from shore until there was light enough for a safe return.Two boats between them and Brennan.And three boats guarding the Seagate to the open ocean.'Sod it,' said Drake.'What are you going to do?' said Blackwood.
'Man,' said Drake. 'We'll need bows, we'll need arrows, we'll need soldiers. Listen . . .
As they neared the harbour mouth, one of Yot's boats set itself on a collision course with Drake's. And Drake let it get close, very close.'Now!' he said.
And Blackwood turned a ring on his finger, and went into the red bottle. Moments later, a stream of vapours emerged from the bottle, and consolidated itself into Blackwood and eight soldiers, all armed with bows and with arrows. Steadying themselves as best they could on the fishing boat, they fired a volley.The volley missed.
But the helmsman of the oncoming boat, unnerved by the archers shooting at him, dived for cover. And Drake's boat scraped past, the archers giving the enemy another volley as they made for freedom.
'Man, that was gutless!' said Drake. 'If they'd been pirates they'd have rammed us proper, aye, and boarded.'
Shortly, to Drake's delight, they were clear of the harbour mouth. He laughed.
'Why are you laughing?' said Blackwood. 'This is serious! We've five boats in pursuit of us!'
'Aye, man,' said Drake. 'But the world's young, and we're all alive. So why not be happy?'
He was laughing because they were on their way to Ling, whether Blackwood knew it or not.
65
At dawn on the fourth day of the sea chase, they saw cliffs ahead which were, in all probability, those of Anvil, the most northerly of the Greater Teeth. Grey cliffs. Tall. Grim. Surf-strewn. A sailor's nightmare.
But Drake welcomed the sight. He grinned. Cliffs of the Greaters! Cliffs of home! He determined to put ashore as soon as possible, even if it meant wrecking the boat. He would rather have landed further south, on Knock, but if they sailed past Anvil he might not get the opportunity.
Drake turned, blinked away flecks of flying spray, and scanned the horizon. The pursuit was far behind. The sails of the five enemy boats were scarcely more than scratches against the distant azure of the northern horizon, lost for half the time amidst the jumbling waves.
It was not Drake's seamanship which was making the difference so much as the red bottle. There, Drake's crew could shelter from the weather, get a decent sleep, prepare proper food and forget the sea. Thus they were able to work long and hard to meet the demands of sea and weather.
Yot's men were not so lucky, and were suffering. Drake was suffering himself, for he was still not prepared to
chance himself inside the red bottle. He had dared the venture once – at Lorford's western gatehouse, when he had been left with no other choice – and had vowed he would never run such a risk again.'Not far to go,' muttered Drake to Drake.
The wizard Miphon was on deck, but was oblivious to all around. He had settled himself to the Meditations. This business of Meditation was, as far as Drake could gather, something like a waking dream, accompanied by a lot of incomprehensible low-voiced garbling.
