David Drake - Out of the waters

Lann looked at her again and hooted in confusion. Hedia stabbed into the middle of the stem where he gnawing, then shoved the blade downward. It sliced through the tough fibers as easily as a cook would joint a chicken. She had seen how strong orichalc was; now she learned that it held a razor edge as well.

She severed the remainder of the stem with an upward stroke, then stepped back feeling pleased. She wanted to wipe the blade, but she hadn't brought the garment from her cell.

Still, she had the bandolier. She lifted it away from her body to use it for a rag. Lann had been chirping with delight. Now he caught her wrist and pointed with his free hand to the stem close to the pad itself.

"You want me to cut it there?" Hedia said in puzzlement-knowing as she spoke that she might as well whistle as speak for her chances of being understood.

But Lann did understand. At any rate he bit into the stem where he had pointed, then leaned back and gave her a broad, bestial grin. Hedia braced her left hand on his shoulder and cut the stem again, this time with a single stroke.

She grinned. She was used to not understanding what a man was doing but going along with it anyway. Not infrequently it turned out to be a pleasant experience.

Gurgling in delight, Lann unfolded the severed leaf and shoved it into the sea again. Holding it with one hand, he tossed the length of stem into it with his free hand, then motioned Hedia imperiously to get in also. When she delayed a moment to sheathe the dagger, the ape-man caught her by the thigh and tugged.

Her eyes narrowed though she said nothing. The ten-inch blade might not cut bone, but it was certainly sharp enough to slice even Lann's massive throat to the spine. He really needs to learn some courtesy when dealing with a lady of Carce…

Hedia walked carefully to the middle of the leaf. The surface was resilient but not really disquieting; it reminded her of walking up a ship's gangplank.

The ape-man got on behind her, making the pad sway dangerously. Hedia moved to the far edge. That helped slightly with the balance, and the veins proved to be strong enough to keep the leaf from folding downward and dropping them both into the water.

Lann pushed off from the remaining vegetation and began lashing the water with the length of stem. It made an extremely clumsy paddle, but Hedia didn't have a better idea.

Wobbling, dipping, and rotating enough that occasionally the ape-man reversed his stroke to counteract it, the makeshift boat started across the sea. If things were ideal, I'd be sharing a dinner couch with a very stalwart young man, and we would be considering how to proceed after dessert, Hedia thought. But considering the alternatives, the present situation was just fine.

She leaned over the rim and looked down. All she could see was her own reflection, distorted by ripples from the pad's motion. Absently she trailed her fingertips in the water. It was cool if not cold, unlike the warmth of the Bay of Puteoli. She thought of the relaxing days she had spent in villas at Baiae, wondering if she would ever- "Waugh!" Lann shouted. The leaf bucked as he flopped across it and caught Hedia's leg.

He jerked her away from edge with the kind of violence he had displayed toward the Servitors. She let out a startled yelp, then broke into tears: a defensive reflex honed by the number of times powerful men had attacked her.

The pad lurched again. Hedia twisted around just as jaws clopped shut like the stroke of a battering ram. She didn't know what the creature was-fish or snake or something still worse-but it could have bitten Lann in half, let alone her.

It sank back and swirled off, brushing the pad with its tail. Hedia stopped crying. Now her fright was completely real.

Muttering to himself, the ape-man resumed stroking the boat forward. Onward, at any rate.

Hedia crouched, well back from the edge. She wanted to apologize, but she didn't know how to. At least she could avoid repeating her mistakes.

Though the sky wasn't visibly brighter, Hedia no longer saw the stars as clearly as she had when she emerged from the sewer inlet. She wondered what would happen if they remained on open water during daylight.

Under other circumstances she might have suggested to Lann that they climb into the water and kick their way along, using the leaf for flotation. The only value she could see in that now is that she would wind up feeding Atlantean sea life instead of becoming bait for an even larger monster as the Minoi planned for her.

Hedia looked forward again and to her surprise saw trees. We're going to make it! she thought, delighted that the shore hadn't been as far as she thought when last she strained her eyes to see ahead.

Lann rumbled a challenge from deep in his chest. The sound rose and fell as though its jaggedness caught his throat when it tumbled out. Hedia jerked around, wondering what she had done wrong this time; but the ape-man was looking beyond her.

She turned again. What she had thought were trees were walking off. The trunks leaned to the side and the roots-or dangling branches?-bent and lifted and set down again well forward of where they had been. She supposed they had to be walking on the bottom, but in the doubtful light it really looked as though they were skimming the surface of the water.

"I thought they were trees," she repeated, this time in a whisper. And perhaps they were trees…

Lann resumed paddling. Hedia watched him; in part because she was afraid to look at anything else in this terrible place, but also because she was beginning to appreciate the economy of the ape-man's movements.

She had thought he was clumsy, but she now realized his seeming awkwardness was a result of the sheer mass of his muscles and the skeleton that anchored them. She had seen warships carrying out combat maneuvers. Their long, slender hulls resisted turning, but even so a trained crew could send its ram crushing through the center of a target or could slip between pillars with only a hand's breadth of clearance to either side for the oar tips.

The boat jerked violently again: something was scraping along its underside. Hedia wailed, but she jumped up with the spear in her hands. If she plunged it straight down between her feet, whatever was under the lily pad would- Lann closed his hand over the spear shaft, preventing her from thrusting. He hooted in question. Hedia looked over her shoulder: they had grounded on the other side of the sea. The pad had been rubbing the sloped edge of the land.

"Oh," she said. "I'm very sorry."

Lann strode past her into the lowering jungle. Hedia, still carrying the spear, followed.

I'm almost back to where I started, she thought. Which meant she was was a great deal better off than she'd been a few hours earlier.

The sun remained above the horizon, but its ball had flattened and its light was deepening to red. Corylus pressed his hands together, wishing there was something he could do.

The sails continued to beat, but it seemed to Corylus that the strokes were slower and becoming flaccid. The ship was certainly descending, though the keel was still a hundred feet in the air. Almost a hundred feet.

Something thrust up from the sea about three miles ahead, or it looked like something did. Corylus grasped the sprite's shoulder and said, "There, isn't that an island, Coryla? Or anyway a rock. Is it big enough to land on?"

"Am I a sailor?" the sprite said. "Or a magician? I don't know what this ship can do."

Corylus turned toward the Ancient and bowed. The wizard didn't acknowledge his presence except by the focus of his golden eyes.

"Master," Corylus said. "Would you please take us toward that island-"

He pointed.

"-so that I can take a look at it. We're going to need to land, soon."