gradually revealed.
Xanthus’ fate was sealed.
CHAPTER LIX
What is it, I wonder, that creates such a deep, unshakable bond between a mother and her child? Is it simply love, a desperate need, or something else? For even if she should somehow forever lose that child, the bond between them-although invisible, intangible, and indescribable-will always remain unbroken. And she will carry it in her heart until her dying day.
“YOU KNOW, SOMETIMES YOU AMAZE EVENME,” RAFEsaid. As he stared out to sea, he offered Tristan histachinga bottle. Tristan took a swig, then wiped his mouth and handed the bottle back.
“What do you mean?” Tristan asked.
“I never thought you would get the Clan Kilbourne elders to agree to your scheme, but you did,” Rafe answered. “And unmasking Arwydd that way was no small victory, either-at least to us highlanders. But then you accomplished the greatest feat of all.” After taking another drink, Rafe laughed and slapped Tristan on the back.
“And what was that?” Tristan asked.
“Why, getting those three miserable wizards to let us highlanders come along!” Rafe answered. “In all my days I have never met such irascible old men! They make the Kilbourne elders seem positively affable! Aeolus isn’t so bad, I suppose. And I suspect that Faegan might be amusing, once one gets to know him. He at least carries a twinkle in his eye. But that Wigg is surely a caution!”
Tristan laughed. “I know,” he said. “He’s been around for more than three hundred years. To say that he’s set in his ways would be the greatest understatement of all time. He is a very moral man, and he doesn’t take kindly to thieving highlanders. The best way to get on his good side is to prove to him that you can control your vices-at least until this campaign is over.”
“I suppose so,” Rafe said. “But my men are getting restless. All I can say is that it’s a good thing there’s nothing on these giant tubs worth stealing!”
“You’re probably right,” Tristan answered laughingly. “But even if you did find something, you’d have no place to hide!”
Rafe laughed again and reached beneath his fur vest to produce a dark plug of chewing tobacco. After biting off a piece, he offered the plug to Tristan. Tristan winced and shook his head. Rafe shrugged his shoulders, then spat some dark spittle over theTammerland ’s side. Another slug oftachinga followed.
Tristan couldn’t help but like Rafe, even if the highlander was a crook. Rafe had never lied to him, and his riding and fighting abilities were wonderful-as were those of each of his horsemen. Tristan supposed that if there was such a thing as a gentleman thief, Rafe was it.
As his thoughts turned to the campaign ahead, Tristan looked out over the moonlit sea. The fleet was sailing atop the waves while the mystics rested for the night. The ships’ black sails were full, and each foresail carried a bright red image of the Paragon.
Ten days had passed since Tristan had been granted theK’Shari Forestallment, and the fleet had been at sea for eight of those days. Because the Necrophagian threat was gone, the Black Ships had made good time. Tyranny estimated that they would reach the coast of Parthalon by dawn. From there the ships would fly overland to the Recluse.
Few aboard the Black Ships could sleep this night, in anticipation of what the next day might bring. Many warriors and highlanders prowled the decks, talking among themselves and sharpening their weapons. Wigg’s, Faegan’s, Aeolus’, and Jessamay’s powers had kept the fleet in the air for much of the journey. Wigg empowered theTammerland, Faegan theEphyra, Aeolus theFlorian, and Jessamay theCavalon.
Blessedly, Traax had regained consciousness. True to his warrior nature, he had insisted on coming. But it remained unclear whether he would be ready to fight, because his arm hadn’t fully healed. Duvessa still watched over him and was doing her best to make him rest. But if Tristan knew Traax, the warrior would soon be up and about-if for no other reason than to prove his worth to hisJin’Sai.
Tristan took a moment to look up and down theTammerland ’s massive hull. The Black Ships were loaded nearly to the sinking point with food, water, Minions, and highlanders and their horses. This time every Conclave member had come, as had every acolyte, save those needed to watch over the nursery.
For the first few days the highlanders-including the stalwart Balthazar-had been deathly seasick. That had pleased Ox to no end, and he had teased Balthazar unmercifully. But as the two giants’ mutual training had progressed, a grudging form of respect-and perhaps even a budding friendship-had started to flower between them.
Tristan still hadn’t gotten used to seeing the colorful highlanders wander about the decks. This is the most ragtag group that I have ever assembled, he thought as he watched the restless waves. But in some ways it might be the best.
Of all the highlanders, only Rafe had been told the full nature of the mission. When Tristan had explained it, Rafe was stunned. The chieftain had no real knowledge of magic, and that had complicated Tristan’s task. But Rafe had promised that when the time came, he and his horsemen would follow Tristan’s orders to the death. Tristan believed him.
Despite the massive forces he commanded, Tristan was desperately concerned about the battle ahead. Serena would not surrender the Recluse easily. Given that the Scroll of the Vagaries was hers, there was no telling what dangers she had conjured to protect herself and the body of her dead child. One thing remained certain. If Clarice could be brought back to life and Serena could spirit her away before the Conclave could attack, the world as they knew it would be forever changed. It wouldn’t happen today, tomorrow, or presumably even a decade from now. But one day Clarice would gain enough maturity to understand the Heretics’ wishes and to call forth the craft, thereby ensuring that the Vigors would be no more.
Tristan was also disturbed because he had no real battle plan about how to take the Recluse. He and the other Conclave members had spent hours trying to formulate one, but to no avail. They were familiar with the Recluse and its surroundings, and that was an advantage. But because they were so unsure about the threat they faced, they had finally decided to approach the castle cautiously, and then make their plans.
Deciding to shelve his troubles for a while, theJin’Sai took a bracing lungful of sea air. He still felt wonderfully powerful and alive. He assumed that he would keep these sensations for as long as his blood carried theK’Shari Forestallment. He also believed that Faegan had been right about the Forestallment granting him immediate training in a variety of weapon and hand-to-hand techniques. He could almost feel them stirring in his blood as they lay waiting to be unleashed.
Looking down at his bare shoulders, he saw the tattoos Aeolus had given him. He wore them with pride. Aeolus had also been right about something. He and Tristan shared a unique bond. It was one that the others- including Wigg-didn’t fully understand.
Just then Tristan saw Rafe look in another direction and smile. Tristan turned to see Tyranny coming across the quarterdeck. The magenta moonlight highlighted her tousled hair, and a cigarillo was pressed between her lips, its lit end glowing in the night. As she neared, Rafe looked her up and down, then turned back toward the prince. He spat some more tobacco bits overboard.
“A beautiful woman,” he said quietly. “In some ways, she reminds me of Yasmin. Her nature can sometimes be deadly, and she approaches the world on her own terms. Such women can easily steal a man’s heart. The predatory ones are the best, don’t you agree, dango?”
Tristan suddenly thought about Celeste. These days he was glad to find his heart filled with fond memories of her, rather than only the pain of what might have been. But Celeste had been different from Tyranny and Yasmin. Shaking his head, he looked back at Rafe.
