Ahead, surprising daylight glowed. There was a shock of impact and a gasp from Tain. The ship scraped herself along the rock. Panic-edged cries echoed as, laboriously, she moved out of the tunnel. Carnelian and Tain, their eyes already accustomed to the dark, were dazzled by the light. Carnelian squinted past his hand. The Tower in the Sea was hollow. The ship was drifting in yet another wide, almost circular harbour enclosed by stone. Its wall was pierced all around the water's edge with archways in which he could see other ships lurking half drawn out of the waves.
Like rattling spears, the oars thrust out, then hung limp in the water. The drum sounded a dull thud that vibrated through the deck and then rose up echoing round the walls. The ship came alive again.
The rhythm was dismally slow as she swam across the inner harbour. The further wall drew nearer. The captain gave a cry and she swung towards the cavern of a ship-house where some faint lanterns burned like eyes. Carnelian felt her ail, her heartbeat slow. At least half her oars rasped back into her hull. She slid ponderously forward towards the shiphouse. As she passed the gateposts many of the crew flung themselves over her edge onto the netting that covered the inner walls. There was a sudden lurch. She juddered still. Carnelian and Tain held each other up. The crew swarmed along the netting into the darkness further in. They returned struggling with two enormous hooks of bronze. Behind them hawsers snaked out from the dark. The hooks bit somewhere into the ship's hull. A grinding came from the shiphouse depths. The hawsers tautened and then, with a shudder, the ship was dragged screaming into the blackness.
Her deck began to slope upwards at an angle. Carnelian held on to a rail. She bellowed as her hull scraped against the ramp. The captain struck the right-hand hawser with a billhook and made it sing. He scrabbled across the leaning deck and did the same to the other. Its voice was slightly higher. 'Starboard!' he shouted into the darkness. The ship was coming up out of the water. The captain lumbered back and forth. Each time he sounded the hawser like a bell. Each time he flung a command into the darkness.
When the dragging stopped at last, Carnelian was able to hear the mutter of voices. Torches came alive all along the walls. The crew flung ropes from the ship's sides that others on the netting caught and looped round the mooring knobs studding the wall. She settled, gave one last stuttering groan and then fell silent. With an ache, Carnelian remembered her flying wild and free across the waves. Now she was tethered like a slave, deprived of the water that gave her life.
THE TOWER IN THE SEA
Characteristics required of a legionary tower are:
Firstly, that its personnel shall be segregated according to their kind: the marumaga shall not be quartered with the Chosen; the barbarian shall not be quartered with the marumaga; the barbarian shall be maintained in isolation from the huimur.
Secondly, the manner of this segregation shall be, if possible, in descending strata, otherwise in wall- separated courts.
Thirdly, the spatial elements of this segregation shall have no communication with each other save by means of linking stairs or corridors.
Access to these must be controlled by suitable military gates that are lockable from the stair or corridor.
(from a military codicil compiled in beadcord by the Wise of the Domain of Legions)
'One always likes to make a grand entrance,' said Jaspar as he walked towards Carnelian, leaning forward against the slope of the deck.
Carnelian gave Tain a little shove. His brother moved off down the deck, ducking an obeisance as he passed Jaspar. The Master watched him go. 'My Lord seems quite attached to that waif.'
Carnelian disliked the tone in Jaspar's voice. 'He is my brother.'
Jaspar glanced back at Tain. 'Your brother?'
This mode of entry seems rather unsuitable for the Chosen,' Carnelian said, to change the subject.
This is a vessel of war and not intended for the use of the Chosen. She hunts pirates.' Jaspar vaulted up onto a ledge. He tucked his cloak up between his legs. His mask looked down at Carnelian. 'Would you like my hand, cousin?' He offered one.
There is no need.' Carnelian emulated the other's vault.
'My Lord now stands upon the Three Lands.' Jaspar turned away. 'Presumably, one is supposed to hold onto the ropes.'
Carnelian looked down at his feet, considering Jaspar's words. Below him people were moving up the deck. Towering among them were the other Masters, made silhouettes by the bright undulating water of the harbour.
Carnelian drew his cloak tight against the clinging damp. The tarry air caught his throat. Jaspar was already some way along the ledge. Carnelian followed him, using the net as a support. Its oily rope stuck to his hand. As he passed the baran's curving prow he averted his eyes from the leering horned figurehead. Ahead, pale light sketched an archway in the wall. A dull clang made him peer deeper into the shiphouse. He was sure that he could make out things like hunched men. He hurried forward to tug at Jaspar's cloak. 'What are those, there?' he whispered.
Jaspar's mask looked back at him. 'Most likely they are sartlar. Be thankful the blackness conceals their fearful ugliness.'
As the Master passed through the archway, Carnelian stole another look into the dark. He saw a glimmer like eyes before, with a shudder, he followed him.
'Where are the guides?' snapped Aurum. Each word quaked the sailors who had come with them to light the way. Their torches made the escort of shadows shake with fear.
This is intolerable,' said Vennel.
'Perhaps, my Lords, we should wait for our tyadra to disembark,' said Suth.
Here and there cavern stone showed between the sail parchment shrouds, the stacks of capstans, cleats in clusters, blocks, coil upon coil of rope. Hawsers swagged down from the darkness. Above their heads, a single mast bellied off in both directions. Far away the passage narrowed to a dim lozenge of light.
'I will not wait for my guardsmen,' said Aurum. 'You there!' He strode towards one of the sailors, pointing an enormous finger. The creatures dropped to their knees in bunches, their torches spurting the Masters' shadows up the walls like ink.
Aurum spoke over their terror. Take us to your Master's halls.'
They cowered away from him. Unblinking eyes all round were fixed on Aurum. Carnelian saw a dark hand regrip its torch more tightly. He remembered similar hands scrubbing blood from the grating of the deck.
Aurum strode among the sailors, scattering them like pigeons. 'Do you not hear my command? Lead us up, I say, to your Master's hall.'
'He pushes them beyond terror into panic,' said Jaspar in a loud whisper.
Relentless, Aurum herded the sailors and their light before him, threatening to leave the other Masters in blackness. Suth and Vermel strode after him. Carnelian was reliving the horror of the massacre but made to follow when Jaspar put a hand on his arm. 'A lute string already taut should not be tightened further lest it snap. Better to pluck it till it slacks and needs retuning.'
'My Lord has such exquisite sensitivity,' hissed Carnelian. It was only when he reached the others that he became aware that he was grinding his teeth.
The slaves found them a stairway winding up into the blackness. Carnelian had to feel for each step. The Masters plugged the stairwell with their bodies, squeezing the light into a random flicker. To make it worse the stairway narrowed and rock rasped his cowl, eventually forcing him to bow. After the cabin, Carnelian had acquired a loathing of confinement and he was relieved to reach the top.
Although the sailors held their torches aloft, the flames were at his eye level. He wished they would hold them steady and not cower every time he raised his hand to shield his eyes from the glare. The air was stale with the odour of oil and sweat and fear. Roughly hewn pillars bulged under a ceiling low enough to stoop Aurum. Columns faded off like trees in a moonless winter forest.
