Andre Norton - The Warding of Witch World

The ship veered again slightly. Undia leaned forward in her seat, her attention fast-fixed on the waves into which their prow plowed. Another blast from her horn caused a flurry of activity.

Now Trusla could see the dark rise of the western coast. Unknown land. That which was known of Arvon, where the four Mantle overlords held reign, was to the south. She had seen some furs on the wharf market tables—some of a dull gray—which most of the buyers had avoided and she had overheard named stinkwolf. Indeed they had smelled strong, and Trusla had heard from one complaining customer that they came from some beast unknown in the east and a peril to be avoided in the west.

For the rest of the day and through the dusk, which came very late in these northern reaches at this time of year, the Wave Cleaver followed the pattern set by Undia’s horn.

At last the captain himself ordered her from her perch and Joul took her place so that she could eat and drink. However, she refused to go to her cabin but lay on a wad of sail and blanket they spread for her.

Trusla made a final trip to see Audha before she herself sought sleep. Frost sat cross-legged on the deck planking, her body swinging to the motion of the boat. Her head had fallen forward on her breast and she plainly dozed.

Inquit slid open the door behind Trusla and edged in. Their vigil was beginning to affect both women. By the limited light of the lantern swinging from its hook above, they looked gaunt and strained.

Just as Inquit closed the door, Audha moved. She had lain every time Trusla had seen her in that same stiff, unnatural position as when they had arranged her so on the bunk. But now her head turned from side to side and she sighed and then gave a small cough and her blue eyes opened.

She stared at Trusla in bewilderment and then turned her head weakly to survey what she could of the cabin.

Kankil raised her soft head from the girl’s shoulder and patted her cheek gently. Both Frost and Inquit half pushed Trusla aside to go to their charge.

“What watch?” Her voice was thin. “My watch—I must keep my watch.” She sat up suddenly and collapsed as quickly. “My head spins… but the watch.”

“The watch is kept, little one.” Frost’s voice held its most gentle note. “You are safe—this is the Wave Cleaver .”

Audha’s eyes seemed to open farther. She raised a hand and pushed aside Kankil as if she desired no comfort, no tending.

“Then—then I dreamed true.” Her face twisted as if some pain wrenched at her lean middle. “We—we were taken—but how—how did I come here, Lady?” She reached up now and grasped the sleeve of Frost’s robe, nearly jerking the witch down upon her with a sudden show of strength. “The captain—tell the captain—the Dargh—

“We are well away from that plague spot,” Inquit said, drawing Audha’s attention to her.

“You—you are Latt.” The girl spoke as one now dazed. “And you…” She looked to Frost, and then shrank down into the bunk, loosing her hold on the other quickly. “You are a witch—out of Estcarp. Witchery—it was dire witchery as caught us. What do you weave now?”

She was shaking, and, without thinking, Trusla pushed past Frost, though her smaller form could not hide the taller witch. As Kankil had done, she patted the other gently.

“We seek woven witchery to break its web, wavereader. It was the Power of these”—she indicated Inquit and Frost—“who, with the aid of our own wavereader, found you.”

The girl bit her lip. “It must be by some favor of Power I live. Rogar—Lothar—Tortain?”

Trusla shook her head. “They walk the Road of Heroes’ Grace. But you remain.”

Now the girl clutched Trusla’s hand, holding it tightly. “Perhaps I lived to warn. There is that which moves. Something drove the bergs so that our ship was herded like one of the wasan to the fall slaughtering. Dargh…” She shuddered, and Trusla settled herself precariously on the side of the bunk and somehow brought Audha up into her own arms.

“All is well,” she crooned, as she would have to one of the little ones in the children’s room in the great house where she had been born. “We are far from Dargh. Our captain has chosen a western way.”

The girl in her hold stiffened. “That is the way of peril also—though only by rocks and the whims of the sea and not the beastliness of maneaters. To voyage so is a great danger, though it has been done.”

“As we shall do again. Captain Stymir has made other northern voyages. Many of the perils are already known to him.” But she saw the shadow of uneasiness still on Audha’s face.

Inquit had moved up beside Trusla. “We are of the north, though we do not take to the sea except for the hunt. Yes, there grows danger, but it is that which we are sworn to seek and face—Power to Power. Now you must eat and grow strong and perhaps in a few days you can aid Undia with the watching, for she has no ’prentice on this voyage.”

The feeling of calmness and good sense which Inquit projected now was such that Trusla could also feel. After a last lingering look at Audha, Frost slipped out of the cabin and the other two proceeded to tend their charge. At length she slept again and this time it seemed that she rested naturally.

However, there was a meeting in the great cabin at dusk. The Wave Cleaver had again altered course several degrees east, since the strain of trying to read the wave run in this dull northern light was too much for either Undia or Joul, though both stayed stubbornly at the bow post.

Captain Stymir had out his map and was regarding it closely.

“We are beginning to sight ice—not real bergs but still visible. And the western reefs devour ships as a hungry man clears his dinner plate. From what can be guessed, the Flying Crossbeak was taking the way of most caution—eastward—before swinging toward the western shore. A peninsula that is well armored with reefs and tricky currents. Yet we must round it to reach End of the World.” He looked to Frost.

“Lady, you have your own way of foreseeing, is that not true?”

“No one can truly foresee, Captain,” she replied. “For life is made up of choices. We can sometimes tell what lies ahead for this choice or that. I do have the Power”—and her hand instinctively cupped her jewel—“to know whether any menace of the Dark lurks ahead—but that range is limited.”

“You have tried it.” He made that more statement than question.

“I have. There is a shadowing in the north. Also a blot of evil which I believe to be this Dargh. The Dark draws energy from pain, fear, violent death. See for yourself.” She slipped off the chain and now her jewel dangled over the map. It began to swing and yet somehow they were sure that she did not urge it so. Then it settled in the air as if an invisible pocket held it, aslant on the chain and to the east on the map.

“Is this your Dargh?” she asked.

“It is Dargh right enough, but certainly not mine, nor that of any true man. Those who den there have no right to the name of humankind.”

The color of the jewel was changing now. There was a dull red glow—it might be an ember scraped from some hearth, so dark a red that it was nearly black. Simond’s sword hand curled, to grip a weapon he did not draw. He had seen such a message given once before, when he had ridden the outer reaches of Estcarp seeking any entrance for the Dark. Then the witch in their company had been close enough to be sisterhood to alert them and draw Power. And a thing which might have once been a circle of slimed green rock had died in flame focused through her jewel—erased before it could once more be used.

“Can it be destroyed? I saw what happened in the Glade of Bone Trees,” he blurted out.