The Coral Kingdom

'No-I've been on Gwynneth for some time now. I came to Corwell across the road from Kingsbay.'

The northman shook his head. Why would someone travel from one side of an island to the other on land? 'D'you know ships?' he demanded belligerently, then slumped back into his chair, not waiting for an answer. 'That ship out there-the Princess! She's the finest boat ever to put to sea from Gnarhelm. That means she be the finest from anywhere in the Moonshaes, y' unnerstan'?'

The black-haired man nodded easily, and the sailor talked while his companion slumped deeper into coma. The trio passed an hour thus. The conscious northman was named Roloff and proved quite loquacious, telling ribald tales of life in Gnarhelm and revealing that the destination of their morrow's voyage was being kept a mystery by their captain, who was none other than the Crown Prince of Gnarhelm!

Eventually the harlot and the two young seamen left, and the innkeeper coughed and tapped his foot, then started to clean up. The black-garbed man took note and squinted at his companions.

'Are you men staying here?' asked Malawar, rising to his feet. When the coherent one nodded, the dark figure's lips creased into another pale smile. 'I have a splendid suite of rooms up the street at the King's Copper. Why don't you join me? There's plenty of room for the two of you.'

The northman blinked suspiciously, but another silver piece flashed as Malawar paid off the innkeeper. The sailor had walked past the King's Copper and knew that it was a splendid place. Also, the rash he had acquired from the straw mat in The Black Salmon's sleeping room was still with him. The thought of real accommodations was too good to ignore.

'Aye,' he grunted. 'Give me a hand with Luge, here, and we'll take you up on that!'

Without appearing to strain, Malawar took the drunken Luge's shoulder and bore a great portion of the man's weight. They moved out the door and along the darkened street. It was many hours past midnight. Their route took them along the waterfront, beside the black waters of Corwell Harbor, water that extended still and placid toward the firth and the Trackless Sea beyond.

When they reached the King's Copper, Malawar alone carried Luge, bearing him full across his shoulders, hauling him like a sack of potatoes through the deserted common room and along the darkened hallway to his room.

The northman called Roloff was nowhere to be seen.

Alicia stood amid a bustle of controlled chaos on the Corwell waterfront while northmen sailors rowed the Princess of Moonshae toward the quay for loading. Brandon stood beside her, his hands on his hips, his eyes scrutinizing every move of the graceful vessel's slow progress.

'Easy there!' he shouted, unable to control himself. 'Take her slow! Now-come about! Watch it!'

The Prince of Gnarhelm paced in agitation, though the vessel was clearly in no danger. At the rudder stood the fiercely scowling figure of Knaff the Elder, as experienced a helmsman as ever sailed the Sea of Moonshae, and the longship, propelled by a half-dozen oars, barely crept through the water.

'Easy!' cried Brandon as a tublike fishing vessel raised sail a hundred paces away from the Princess.

'Can't hear myself think out here!' grumbled Knaff, loud enough for his voice to carry to shore.

'He can bring it in safely, don't you think?' suggested Alicia with a laugh. 'You're like a proud papa getting his first look at his little boy!'

The captain grinned sheepishly. 'You're right,' he admitted. Brandon forced himself to keep his mouth shut, but his eyes studied every move of the sleek vessel, and he couldn't help but flinch at each change of course or speed.

At last the longship touched the wharf, very gently. Ropes made fast her stern and prow, and the crew quickly began loading aboard the crates of food and barrels of drinking water to provision a possibly long voyage.

Hanrald and Brigit carefully crossed the gangplank, each carrying a bundle containing polished armor. The two knights stowed their packages beside the mast.

Some distance down the dock, Alicia saw another northman she recognized-gigantic Wultha, a hulking, well-muscled specimen of a warrior. He stood with several of his crew-mates, and for a moment the princess thought, oddly, that they were fishing. Then the big man waved to his prince and Brandon walked over to them. Alicia saw them talking seriously, saw Brandon's brows suddenly tighten into a scowl.

Concerned, Alicia started toward them, joined by Robyn and Keane. The Prince of Gnarhelm met them halfway, Alicia's disquiet mirrored in his own frown.

'They found the body of one of my men in the harbor,' Brand announced grimly.

'Was he hurt? Murdered?' wondered the princess, deeply disturbed by the news.

'I don't know. Something's not right, though.'

'Who was it?' inquired Keane.

'A fellow named Roloff. He's a notorious drinker, but he holds it better than anyone I know. It's not likely he'd fall in on his own.'

'Was he attacked or injured?' Alicia pressed.

'Not as far as we can tell. At least, his body had no wounds. He appears to have drowned.'

' 'Appears?' ' Robyn heard the suspicion in the northman's voice. 'You're not convinced?'

'No. Roloff was too sensible a sailor-and too good a swimmer-to suffer that fate. And then there's the expression on his face.'

'What was it?' Alicia felt a dull sense of menace. This seemed like a bad omen for the start of a dangerous voyage.

'His eyes were wide open and staring, fixed that way when he died-as if something scared the stuffing out of him, and he never recovered even after he fell in the water.'

'When was he last seen beforehand?' inquired Keane.

'His best friend, Luge, drank with him last night-apparently quite a bit, since he doesn't remember much past midnight. From the look of him this morning, I'd say Luge's memory won't be of much use to us.'

'Does he remember where they were?' pressed the mage. 'Perhaps someone else saw something there.'

'No good,' said Brandon with a shrug. 'Luge doesn't even remember where they went.'

'Ill luck for the start of a voyage,' observed Tavish, with a shake of her head. 'Let's hope that means this is the worst of it!'

The others found it hard to shake a sense of unease, but Brandon reminded them that the tide turned even as they talked. They carried their small bundles of personal baggage aboard, then returned to the docks. There the Earl of Corwell and Princess Deirdre stood to see them off.

'With luck, we'll return with your father,' Robyn said to her younger daughter. 'If the worst happens, you will be the next queen of the Ffolk.'

Deirdre looked at her mother closely, her expression unreadable. Abruptly she reached out and embraced the queen, a hug that Robyn returned with full strength and held for long moments. When the two women stood apart again, their eyes were red with unshed tears.

'I still protest!' grumbled Randolph as the queen gave him a farewell embrace. 'You'll need me!'

'I know,' replied Robyn truthfully. 'But Corwell needs a lord, and until our return, that's a job that's too important to entrust to anyone else.'

Lord Randolph, as Earl of Corwell, would resume his normal duties. Deirdre would return to Callidyrr to oversee that large and populous realm.

The others filed across the boarding plank while the queen waved to the Ffolk who had lined the dock to cheer and wish them success. Alicia carried her changestaff and wore her sword. Her armor, like Brigit's and Hanrald's, was wrapped in oilskin and carefully stowed.

'Until our return!' pledged Robyn boldly, waving as she, too, crossed the gangplank. At the same moment, ropes were tossed free from fore and aft, and a light wind filled the Princess of Moonshae's quickly bulging sail.

Brandon's crew of sixty handpicked northmen included his old mentor, Knaff the Elder, at the helm, and the gigantic Wultha. The group was the minimum needed to man the large longship, but that was all they had room for, since they had brought so many additional passengers on board as well.