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he boat was low in the water with supplies and passengers. Word had spread quickly around the small community on the island and soon everyone wanted aboard, demanding that they be allowed to serve Master Bei. Mog sat at the prow watching the proceedings with a mixture of amusement and sadness. Amusement because Master Bei was trying to be quick about it while also trying not to snub the generosity of his people. Sadness because this journey was necessary at all.
“Unless I have permitted it, please get off of the boat,” Zhou said at last, losing his patience. He turned and glared pointedly at Armand and Brigit standing on either side of Mog.
“If yeh don’ mind, Master Joe, I wish Armand n’ Brigit were at me side on this journey.”
Zhou scowled but nodded curtly. He motioned for Xiang Yi and Ebony to join him. He turned to gesture for another of his officers but there was a commotion up the hill. A procession of torch bearers issued from the sacred grove of Melandru where the great longhouse of the Dunvael dwelt.
“I can take only seven,” Kitka protested, “As it is we lie too low for speed.”
Mog watched the grim line of men and women approach. He did not know the Dunvael, only that Morisedd, Pendaran’s brother-in-law and betrayer, had been among their number. The bearded figure who led the procession was tall and slightly built. An old bearskin trimmed with raven quills was bound at his shoulders and an ornate bow with a pair of red feathers fluttering under its grip was in his hand. Just as the others, he had a quiver full of red-fletched arrows, the hallmark of his clan. He bowed low to Master Bei and the others behind him knelt.
“Master Bei, I bid you hear my plea.”
Zhou turned to face the man with something resembling attentiveness and respect. He proffered a shallow bow with hands steepled before him.
“I will hear you, Master Brioc.”
“The Dunvael failed to heed the bitterness and hatred of their brother and so we are shamed by the actions of Morisedd. On behalf of my kin, I humbly plead that one of us be allowed to purge this stain through service.”
“I am allowing Brigit Gaenor to come. Is she not a member of your guild?” Master Bei asked.
“A friend, yes, but not by blood or oath. We have cleansed and prayed for many weeks over the matter. It was agreed that that we would select one of our own to assist. Now we see the servant of Melandru has come to your songs and we receive this as our sign.”
Zhou nodded.
“Very well. As our guilds are now aligned under one charter, I accept you request. Please have your champion step forward.”
The procession parted and a lone figure strode forth, her narrow form clad in supple fur-trimmed leathers and her face half concealed behind a crimson mask. Golden hair was gathered up in a flowing tail that flared at her nape. Brigit gasped.
“Teleri, no…”
“It is my right,” she said fiercely, “I have wept all the tears that are in me, now I will have blood.”
Mog saw Brigit blanch at those words. She looked helplessly at Master Bei but Zhou had agreed to Brioc’s conditions.
“It is the right of those closest to the sin to cleanse it,” Brioc said quietly.
“Teleri, this is not necessary, you have children…”
“My children were taken from me and are no longer in my care. Take me to my husband. I will bring him home or I will die beside him. That is my vow.”
Zhou watched Teleri move stiffly onto the deck and take her place at the bulwarks to stare out to sea. Mog had seen that empty gaze before on the faces of the survivors of the Searing. It spoke of a heart and mind so broken they no longer had the capacity to see beauty or nurture the frail flames of hope. He had to wall off his own mind against her palpable grief and rage.
“We must depart now while the tide is strong,” Kitka protested when a murmur of protest went up among the crowd and some began edging toward the boat anew.
“It is done. I bid you farewell, my friends. Pray to the gods for our swift journey and safe return,” Zhou said once the crowd had grown quiet enough to hear his final words, “Master Simagh, if you would, please request guidance.”
And with that, the mooring lines were released and drawn in. The small boat rocked slowly as they pushed away from the pier and unfurled the lateen sails. As he pumped the bellows and let the first harmonic drone of his pipes fill the golden afternoon, he felt the wind rise up off the land and the boat surged forward, the prow slicing through the wavelets as they headed toward the open sea. He felt the sad sweet sentience of Threnody. Now he faced out over the bowsprit, bracing himself so that he did not lose his chanters. With the eager staccato of raindrops after a long summer day he delivered a playful rendition of the Ascalon Reel, a smile on his lips despite the seriousness of the situation. All at once the turquoise water below him seethed with life and a gasp of delight arose from Brigit’s lips as a pod of dolphins swept forth, leaping and dancing in the bow waves.
The creatures powered through the water with the ease and grace of swallows. At moments they sprang clear as if delighting in the rhythm of his song. Their sleek bodies hung in the empty air for an instant only to slip gracefully below the surface. Mog’s fingers danced over the pipe, his foot tapping out the rapid sweeping rhythm. His memory strayed to the celebrations of his youth and he laughed for the weaving dolphins put him in mind of the elaborate lines and patterns of the dance.
And so they traveled with a fair wind bulging the sails and the sea rising up to carry them south. He spun a second song and a third for the delight of doing so while the small crew secured the rudder and trimmed the sails. He finished Long Shanks Lament and the drones faded, replaced by the sweep of the waves parting over the bow. Threnody’s creatures stayed with them, as did the following wind and fair weather.
He missed Lemony now that he was sitting alone at the prow, the shape of the island disappearing over the horizon like some vast sleepy sea creature. No doubt she had failed to find someone to look after Xue Xue and the little girl was always her first concern these days. He glanced at Armand and Brigit huddled at the stern holding hands and talking. It was a stark contrast to Zhou and Teleri standing alone at the bulwarks.
“You have demons at your disposal. What else will we face once we get there?” Kitka asked Zhou now that there was only the sleeting of the wind and the sounds of the boat.
“He is my husband, I will go to him,” Teleri said fiercely. It was the first time she had stirred since their departure.
“We will do what we must when we find him,” Zhou said, “What we will face, I do not know, only that it may be the greatest peril of all. You are not required to assist us, Kitka.”
The woman shrugged.
“We shall see.”
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