Saberhagen, Fred - Lost Swords 02 - Sightblinder's Story by Saberhagen Fred

Author:Saberhagen, Fred [Saberhagen, Fred]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Assoc Llc
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Once again Draffut hoisted Zoltan to his shoulders. Then, swimming and wading, the giant carried the young man with him through the lake, back in the direction of the castle.

When they reached the area of shallower water that surrounded some of the smaller islands, the Beastlord enjoined silence, then set his passenger down again on a dark beach. Some of the victims of Draffut’s attack had evidently reached a different island, where they were waiting in hope of rescue; their mournful voices carried through the night.

Draffut crouched beside Zoltan and together they awaited the approach of the next boat.

“What if there’s no more traffic on the lake tonight?” Zoltan whispered.

“I think there will be. Even before I tipped that boat, something was stirring the soldiers to activity, in the castle and in the town.”

Looking in the direction of the castle on its island, Zoltan found something dreamlike in the appearance of the structure, with the multitude of tiny flames that were trying to light it all reflected in the water. Even more lights had appeared in the stronghold in the few minutes since he had taken his last deliberate look at it. And the docks at the foot of those high walls displayed increased activity. Miniature human figures could be seen swarming over them, though at the distance it was impossible to see just what they were about.

Draffut, who had been peering in the other direction, toward the town, now hissed softly, signaling for renewed silence. Crouching lower, the Beastlord whispered: “Another boatload of soldiers is coming in our direction—no, I think there are two boats this time.” Draffut’s whisper was a peculiar sound, like the rushing of an almost silent breeze across the night.

Very soon Zoltan, peering over the low, dry elevation of the barren islet, was also able to hear the oars. And shortly after that he believed he could tell that there were at least two boats approaching.

Tugging childlike at the half-luminous fur of the crouching giant beside him, he whispered very softly: “Ben might be on one of those.”

The Beastlord nodded his great head once. “When we approach these boats, I’ll signal with a roar if I see that they carry no prisoners. Then you can go on to the castle, as you are determined to do, if fortune grants you the chance. But if I am silent, then there are prisoners, or at least one, and you should probably wait to confer with them first.”

“I agree.”

Presently Zoltan was able to see the dark shapes of the slow-moving boats intermittently silhouetted against the twinkling lights of the distant town.

Moving his lips closer to Zoltan’s ear, Draffut whispered a last question: “Are you a good swimmer? Good enough to reach the castle from here, in water as cold as this?”

“Good enough.”

“Then do what you must do. And the help of all true gods go with you.”

With that Draffut slid away, moving in eerie silence, and, almost without causing a ripple, submerged himself to his neck. In this position he began to swim very quietly toward the two approaching boats.

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