Love and War

'Hmm, just so. Your father is a wise man. Is he a great warrior as well?'

'He is a Solamnic Knight.' That said it all.

Artavash held out her hand. 'Come, sit by me. I wish to know you better.' Sturm half-knelt in the pile of cushions by her right hand. She said, 'You are educated, are you not?'

'I know my letters, and have studied the Chronicles of Huma.'

'Huma? Who is that?'

'You don't know? Huma was the greatest hero of Krynn.' Sturm cleared his throat and recited:

Thus Huma, Knight of Solamnia,

Lightbringer, first lancer,

Followed his light to the foot of the Khalkist Mountains,

To the stone feet of the Gods,

To the crouched silence of their temple.

He called down the lancemakers, he took on

Their unspeakable power to crush the unspeakable evil,

To thrust the coiling darkness

Back down the tunnel of the dragon's throat.

Sturm finished the canto. Artavash was smiling again. Very quietly she said, 'And this demigod, this Huma; you are a descendant of his?'

'From olden times, yes,' Sturm said with pride.

'I cannot wait to present you to my master,' she said.

The fog dispelled and never returned. Sea Raven's oars beat day and night.

Sturm worried about Soren. There had been no sign of the sergeant since he disappeared into the dark, fetid hold of the galley two days ago. Artavash was not available, so the boy complained to Radiz.

'You will not like what you see,' Radiz told him.

'I want to see Sergeant Soren,' Sturm insisted. The commander agreed without any more argument.

'Perhaps it would be instructive for you to visit the benches,' he mused.

The boy and the commander descended a steep set of steps into the hold. There, a long wooden walkway ran from forecastle to stern. Below on either side were the rowers' benches. Four men were chained to each oar, and twenty oars were set on each side. Hard, grim-faced men prowled the walk, lashing the rowers at random. The sight and smell of the neglected slaves was fearsome.

Soren was not hard to find. Compared to the skinny wretches around him, he was a giant. Radiz let Sturm on the catwalk to speak with his friend.

'I'm sorry, Soren!' he said, choking on disgust and angry tears. 'I didn't know they'd put you in this horrible place!'

The guardsman hauled back his oar. 'Don't — worry — young — lord,' he panted in time to the sounding drum. 'Alive — there is — hope.'

'Hope is a good breakfast, but a poor supper,' countered Radiz. He led Sturm away. The boy went back to his mother. He sat between Lady Ilys and Carin and said nothing to anyone for a long time.

After four days and three nights, the Sea Raven hove in sight of land. The coast of Abanasinia lay like a low, brown cloud off the port beam. Lady Ilys looked longingly at the far shore.

'So near' she said. Sturm leaned on her arm. 'If I knew we were close enough, I'd throw you overboard to swim it and find help.'

'I could try,' he said eagerly.

She stroked his tangled hair. 'No, my son. I fear you would drown.'

Abanasinia receded as the Sea Raven bore south and west. A plume of smoke followed the wind away from the mountaintop.

'Kernaf is a fire-mountain,' explained Artavash. 'The natives call it 'Hej Maraf ,' — the Furnace.'

'Are you not a native?' asked Sturm.

'Me, a fish-eater? My ancestors laugh at the idea!'

Sturm peeked at Radiz. The swarthy face under the shiny helmet could not conceal annoyance at her insult.

Sea Raven gained steadily against an offshore breeze. The sea was empty of ships, even as she drew in sight of the mouth of the main harbor. From the high forecastle, the city of Kernaf spread in a half-circle around the bowl-shaped bay. Two tall, stone towers flanked the narrow harbor entrance. The tower tops were blackened by fire.

'Has someone attacked your town?' asked Sturm.

Radiz squinted into the morning glare. 'No, boy. Those are signal towers. Fires were burned up there to mark the entrance for passing ships,' he said.

'Don't they use them anymore?' Sturm asked. Radiz was silent.

Artavash ordered message pennants sent as the galley churned to its haven. They passed large numbers of fishing smacks moored to buoys. They were waterlogged from neglect. In the main dockyard, large merchant ships swung untended at anchor, their rigging ragged and their main yards lying rotten on their decks.

'Strange,' said Lady Ilys. 'Everything looks abandoned. I thought this would be a teeming port.'

'Not a soul in sight,' agreed Mistress Carin.

That changed when a light ketch skimmed out to meet the SEA RAVEN. A Kernaffi stood in the boat and called to the galley in his native tongue. Radiz replied at length.

'What do they say?' asked Sturm.

'Merely the greetings of our great lord to his returning ship,' said Artavash. The man in the boat did not look so very pleased to Sturm.

Sea Raven dropped anchors fore and aft. The oars were run in. The pilot ketch put about and tacked back to a long stone pier. Radiz shouted orders, and all hands except slaves assembled on the main deck.

A squat barge rowed out to the galley's bow. Sturm, his mother, and Carin followed Artavash to a ramp that led down to the bobbing barge. Sturm stopped short of the ramp's end.

'What about Sergeant Soren?' he said.

'He will come ashore with the other rowers,' said Radiz.

Sturm appealed to Artavash. 'He must come with us,' he said. She seemed willing to accommodate the boy's wishes, so she sent for the sergeant. Soren was half-carried from the hold and dumped on the ramp by Kernaffi sailors.

'You see, my lady, how four days with an oar tames the boldest warrior,' Radiz said. Artavash laughed all the way down to the barge.

Sturm helped his friend stand. 'Are you well, Soren?' he said.

'Well enough, my lord.' His quilted tunic was in tat ters, and red welts streaked his back. The rowing master had not spared Soren the whip. The guardsman's hands were also raw from gripping the heavy oar.

The barge glided in to the pier. An honor guard awaited them. Brass horns blared as Artavash led the group up some steps to the street. A parade formed:

the warrior woman leading Sturm by the hand, followed by a grim Lady Ilys and Carin. Soren, Radiz, and the Kernaffi guard brought up the rear. Fifes shrilled and drums rumbled as they began to march.

The streets of the city were as empty as the harbor. A few people peered out their windows, and some curious loafers filled open doorways. As soon as they caught sight of Artavash, doors closed and shutters shut.

'Passing strange,' Sturm said. 'Harbors without ships, streets without people.'

'The natives seldom venture out this time of day,' Artavash replied. 'They think it's too hot.'

The parade turned a comer. Ahead rose an imposing facade, a palace of some sort. Before the palace was a high wooden platform covered with a golden canopy. Artavash halted Sturm ten paces from the foot of the platform. The guards ran ahead, forming a double line from Artavash to the bottom of the steps. Javelins clanked on shoulders in salute, and the music stopped.