Robert Newcomb - The Scrolls of the Ancients

"As far as I know, yes, they are," Geldon answered. "But I have been at sea for nearly thirty days, bringing the fleet across. In any event, you will soon see them for yourself."

Looking back to the very confused Tyranny and Scars, Tristan beckoned them forward. But as he was introducing them to Geldon and Traax, he saw Tyranny's face turn dark.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "We've won. You should be happy."

Then he understood. She had just noticed her dead crewmembers hanging from the rigging of the pirate vessel that had rammed them.

Without speaking, she walked over to the nearby gunwale and looked up. No one followed her; no one spoke. After a time, Tristan walked up and put one arm around her, and she laid her head tiredly on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he said. "But at the same time I must tell you that if I were forced to make that same decision again, I would."

For a moment she did not speak. "I know," she finally answered. "And I am not angry with you. But no amount of kisa in the world can remedy this."

Tristan turned to Traax. "Have them cut down immediately," he ordered. "And have the bodies covered with sailcloth. Their remains are to be respected, and buried at sea." With a sharp click of his heels, Traax turned and began barking out orders.

Raising her head from Tristan's shoulder, Tyranny looked up into his dark eyes. "Thank you," she said softly. "For everything." Knowing there was little more to be said, Tristan only nodded.

Then another Minion officer approached, and Tristan recognized him as the one he had ordered to destroy the pirate sails and rigging. The warrior went to one knee, his head bowed.

"Permission to speak, my lord?" he asked politely.

"Granted," Tristan said.

The Minion stood. "My name is K'jarr, and I wanted you to know that it was my great honor to serve by your side in the skies over Farplain, just before the destruction of the Gates of Dawn. It was also my privilege to fight alongside you again here today."

Tristan smiled at K'jarr. Sometimes it seemed that the horrific battle over the fields of Farplain had been many years ago, rather than mere months.

"Thank you, K'jarr," he said with feeling. "I will not forget you in the days to come."

Traax reappeared then at Tristan's side, his face showing uncharacteristic concern.

"Forgive me, my lord, but my news is urgent. The People's Revenge is taking on water-a direct result of having been rammed. The leak is slow, but our shipwrights tell me that it is irreparable. It is imperative that we transfer all of the survivors to our other vessels, and that we do so quickly."

Looking forward, Tristan could see that Traax was right. In the heat of all the fighting, he hadn't noticed. But the ship was going nose-down, her bowsprit already nearing the waves.

"How long do we have?" Tristan asked.

"No more than one hour," Traax answered.

Tristan turned to look at Tyranny. He could use the Minions to force an evacuation, but he wouldn't. This was her ship, and it would be her decision.

Closing her eyes for a moment, Tyranny finally nodded.

Tristan turned back to Traax. "Very well," he answered. He looked back at Tyranny. "Is there anything you wish to take?" he asked.

"Only my charts and navigational tools," she answered. Looking over at Scars, she gave the faithful giant some silent commands with her eyes. In a moment, he was gone.

As Tristan cast his gaze back down the length of the stricken ship, another thought came to him. Pulling Tyranny nearer, he whispered something into one of her ears.

A relieved look came over her. "Of course," she said gratefully. "Especially if you think it will help. How could I have been so forgetful?"

Tristan gave her a smile. "You've had rather a lot on your mind lately, I'd say."

He beckoned K'jarr back to him, and the warrior was by his master's side in an instant. After hearing his new orders, the warrior selected two other officers to help him, and they walked dutifully away.

"Forgive me, my lord, but there remains one final issue to be dealt with," Traax said. Knowing full well that his lord understood what that was, he said nothing more.

Tristan's face darkened. He had to make his decision about the fate of the pirates. Walking over to the gunwale, he looked out to sea again.

The pirate vessels were clearly helpless, but the seething, violent men aboard them were not. They were killers and thieves of the highest order, and they had to be stopped. If he chose to, he could order his Minions to attack them, and they would no doubt prevail. But some of the Minions would lose their lives-as would all of the pirates, unless they surrendered. Deep in his heart, he knew he simply couldn't authorize a slaughter like that. Besides, he reasoned, he would likely need every single Minion he could muster in what might very soon become a struggle with Krassus and the demonslavers. Looking back, he beckoned to Tyranny and Traax to join him at the gunwale.

"I want you to take the pirates alive, if at all possible," he ordered Traax. "There is a sizable island just to the south of us, hidden in that fog bank. Take the pirates there and maroon them. I also want you to station enough Minion warships around the island's perimeter to ensure that none of them can escape. The remainder of the fleet is to make for Eutracia at the best possible speed. And tow the pirate vessels back with you-they're too valuable to waste. Anchor just off the Cavalon Delta, and then come to the palace with your report. Together with my wizards, we will arrive at some conclusion regarding the pirates." He looked back out at the opposing fleets for a time as he carefully considered his next words.

"If the pirates reject your terms, and it becomes a case of you or them, then you have my permission to kill them in a fair fight," he said quietly.

"It shall all be as you say," Traax replied.

Tyranny watched as Traax walked away. "They are amazing," she said. "I wish they had been at my side when I was hunting down demonslavers."

Upon hearing this, one corner of Tristan's mouth came up. He knew it may yet come to that.

"Where in the name of the Afterlife did they come from?" she asked quizzically. "And how is it that they obey you so unerringly? I have never seen anything like them."

Shaking his head, Tristan gave a short laugh. "That's a long story," he answered her. "One that I shall be happy to share with you on the way home."

"You should have plenty of time to tell it to me," she reflected. "It's still a two-day sail to the coast."

Tristan gave her an odd, knowing look. "Actually, we shall be in the palace by sunset, at the latest."

She watched, confused as Tristan turned around and faced the decks of her ship again. Two Minion vessels had come up along the opposite side, and the evacuation was already in progress. Minion warriors were taking the weak and the wounded into their arms and flying them across the sea to the waiting ships.

Then she saw Tristan grin and point to the litter that sat waiting on the deck, not too far from them. Realizing what he intended, she felt the blood rush from her face. She raised her palms up in a desperate gesture of defiance.

"Oooh, no!" she shouted.

"Oooh, yes!" he ordered her. "You, me, Scars, and Geldon." Then he smiled again. "I admit it takes a bit of getting used to, but your prince commands it."

Without giving her another chance to argue, he took her by one arm and pulled her over to where the litter stood. They were clearly running out of time, and they needed to go.

By now, Scars had reappeared with the maps and tools. He looked tired, and was soaked from the waist down by the seawater that was already flooding hip-deep through the lower decks. With a word from his captain, he tentatively got into the litter, finding that he had to stay bent over slightly to keep his head from hitting the roof. At a word from Tristan, Geldon entered next. When it finally came Tyranny's turn, she turned and gave him a look.