Nigel Findley - Into the Void

"Aelfred." The big warrior turned back. "Aelfred," he repeated, "wait. I… I learned something. I think Estriss may be…" He took another deep, calming breath. "I think Estriss is involved with the people who are after the cloak."

The first mate stiffened. "What?"

"There's a group of mind flayers who are after the cloak," Teldin explained. He struggled to keep his voice steady, unemotional. "I think Estriss is in with them. Or, at least," he added, feeling it was vital that he tell as much of the truth as he knew, "he might be. I'm afraid he is." Aelfred was silent. "We talked about coincidences," Teldin went on earnestly. "Remember? What are the odds of meeting another ship in wildspace? Next to zero, you said. Remember?"

Aelfred nodded, a little unwillingly. "Aye," he said.

"What was the Probe doing in Krynnspace, Aelfred? Why did Estriss want to go there?"

The burly warrior was silent for a dozen heartbeats. "I don't know," he said finally. "He never told me."

"Did you put down on a planet?" Teldin pressed.

"Yes, one of the moons of Zivilyn."

"Why?"

Aelfred shrugged. "There was another ship there," he said, "somebody that Estriss had arranged to meet on business. I don't know who, or what kind of business."

"Why did you sail to Krynn, then?" Teldin asked urgently. He struggled to recall the conversations he'd had with the gnomes about the makeup of the Krynnish system. "It's a long way from Zivilyn, isn't it?"

"Aye," Aelfred answered quietly, "about six days."

"And did you land on Krynn?"

"No."

Teldin nodded. The further he went into this, the more doubt turned to certainty. Estriss had to be playing a deeper game, following his own agenda. Once again Teldin felt the icy knot of fear in his stomach. "Why did Estriss say it was necessary to approach Krynn?" he asked.

"He didn't say."

"You just sailed near Krynn, saw the longboat being attacked by pirates, and you saved me, then you left Krynnspace again. Isn't that so?"

"That's so," Aelfred said slowly.

"As if, in finding me, Estriss had got what he wanted?" Teldin pressed.

"That's so," Aelfred repeated, quieter.

Teldin returned to his original point. "I need to get to the Nebulon."

"You'll have to talk to Estriss." Aelfred's voice was firm, but his eyes showed doubt.

An image flashed into Teldin's mind-an image of an attacker collapsing under the lash of the illithid's mental attack. "I can't," he said. "Can you take the Probe up without Estriss? Without his say-so?"

Aelfred's eyes went cold and steady, like a blade in the hand of a master swordsman. "It sounds like you're counseling me to make a mutiny, old son," he said softly.

Teldin paused. There was real danger now. He could hear it in Aelfred's voice. He's my friend, he told himself, but friendship can go only so far. "I need passage," he said carefully, "and I can't go back into town or I'll be killed. Why would I lie about this?"

The first mate hesitated, obviously torn between friendship and duty. "You'll have to talk to Estriss," he said again. This time there was indecision in his voice as well as in his eyes.

"I can't, Aelfred. You've got to help me."

Aelfred pointed to the fishing boat that was still hard against the hammership's hull. The dozen sellswords were undoubtedly just what they were: hired bravos. Nobody could ever have mistaken them for fishermen. "If I don't help you, are they here to make me?" The big warrior's voice was casual, but ail the more dangerous for that. "Could it be that you plan to take the Probe, Teldin? Take it at sword-point?"

"No," Teldin shot back forcefully. "You're my friend. You've been my friend through everything. I can no more turn against you than I can fly this ship myself." He spread his hands in an open, disarming gesture. "All I can do is depend on that friendship. Help me, Aelfred. Save my life again. You're the only hope I've got left."

That took the big man aback, Teldin could see. They stood silently for several score heartbeats. Teldin watched the play of emotions over his friend's face-painful emotions, many of them. It was hard to keep silent, hard not to press the point, hard not to plead, but Teldin understood enough about Aelfred Silverhorn to know that this would be the worst thing he could do. He had to respect the man, had to give him time to make the difficult decision on his own.

"Aelfred!" The call from a crewman on the forecastle was enough to make Teldin jump with shock.

The first mate turned away, obviously glad to be spared from his dilemma, if only for a few moments. "What?" he barked.

The crewman was pointing toward town. "Message from the harbormaster, sir," he called down. With a muttered curse, Aelfred looked to where the man was indicating.

There was a string of flags running up one of the flagpoles atop the harbormaster's building. Like the ones telling us where to dock, Teldin remembered. A premonition of danger tingled through his nerve endings. He wished he could read the message. As he watched, another string of flags ran up the second flagpole.

"What in the name of all the fiends…" Aelfred stared at the flags in open stupefaction, then he turned to Teldin, an expression of enforced calm on his face. "Just what have you been doing ashore?" he asked.

"Running for my life," Teldin answered truthfully. He indicated the flags. "What do they say?"

"The Probe is impounded," the mate said disbelievingly. "We're ordered to remain in place. There'll be a vessel coming out to secure the ship, and to arrest a fugitive from justice, one Aldyn Brewer." He fixed Teldin with a flint-edged stare. "What have you done?"

"Nothing," Teldin replied, his voice little more than a whisper. Nausea rippled in the pit of his stomach. He was horrified; the corruption, the involvement, goes high enough to involve the harbormaster? Virtually the whole city could be turned against him.

No, he realized, it needn't be quite that bad. Somebody had reported that "Aldyn Brewer" had committed a crime. Maybe it was Spak's murder, or maybe the whole thing was fabricated from nothing. No, it wasn't as bad as he'd originally thought, but it definitely was bad enough.

"I didn't do anything," he repeated to Aelfred. "They're trying to get the cloak. They'll do anything they can to get it, including impound the ship and kill anyone who gets in the way."

"And who's 'they'?"

"I don't know," Teldin answered. "Everyone." The enormity of his danger almost overwhelmed him again. "Everyone," he replied, struggling for control. "Illithids, the elves…" He squared his shoulders, fought to keep his desperation out of his voice. "Please, Aelfred. Take me up there. It's my responsibility. We'll say I threatened you. When it's over, when I've seen the arcane, I'll surrender and you'll be off the hook."

"Hardly," Aelfred said derisively. His cool gaze searched Teldin's face, then the big man's steel-hard expression softened into a wry smile. "I believe you," he said. He chuckled, a little grimly-or was it sadly? Teldin asked himself. "Well, I was getting tired of shipboard life anyway. Do you think anybody around here needs a mercenary?"

Teldin remembered the seemingly endless supply of sellswords and smiled. "I don't think that'll be a problem." The decision made, Aelfred was his familiar, efficient self. "The ship they're going to send is going to be a military vessel. We're on skeleton crew. There's no way we can repel it. Get your crew on board," he snapped to Teldin. "If you're afraid of Estriss-and I don't blame you, honestly, from what you've told me-send an 'honor guard' to escort him." He turned away and started barking orders at the few crewmen remaining aboard.

The bravos had been waiting impatiently. The moment Teldin beckoned to them, they swarmed over the gunwale rails, eschewing the rope ladder. On deck, they stood waiting for their orders. Rianna, because of her wounded shoulder, was slower coming aboard. As she climbed over the rail, Teldin saw Aelfred's smile of welcome. With his two best friends beside him, Teldin was starting to feel he might have a chance of making it through.