David Eddings - Crystal Gorge

‘Why don’t the citizens just remove him – with knife or axe?’ Red-Beard asked.

‘Because he has thousands of guards,’ Dahlaine replied. ‘I’d say that every third man in Palandor is a member of what Holy Emperor Azakan calls “the Guardians of Divinity” – which gives those “guardians” an easy life. About all they have to do is stand around scowling threateningly at sunrise and sunset.’

‘What’s the weather like up there?’ Red-Beard asked.

‘Autumn isn’t too bad,’ Dahlaine replied. ‘There’s a warm stream of water out in Mother Sea that modifies the autumn weather, but it sort of veers off at the end of autumn, and things get very cold. Blizzards go on for weeks at a time, and the spring thaw comes much later there than in the rest of the Land of Dhrall. Summers are fairly nice, but every now and then we get spells of bad weather. Huge storms build up in the sea to the east of my Domain, and they come screaming in to hit the coast of Atazakan.’ He smiled faintly. ‘Holy – or crazy – Azakan always tries to order those storms to go away, but they never seem to listen for some reason.’

‘Storms don’t ever seem to listen, big brother,’ Zelana said. ‘When Mother Sea gets grouchy, it’s time to take cover.’

‘Fortunately we should be near the end of what the people of Matakan call “the whirlwind season”.’

‘My people call those storms “cyclones”,’ Veltan noted, ‘probably because of the way they spin around.’

‘We don’t see those very often in my part of the Land of Dhrall,’ Zelana said.

‘You’re lucky then,’ Dahlaine replied. ‘Those spinning windstorms tend to rip things all to pieces. They’re fairly common in Matakan, because that region doesn’t have very many mountainous ridges to disrupt them. The Matans usually take shelter underground.’

‘Caves?’ Longbow asked.

‘Not exactly. The Matans dig deep cellars with thick roofs, and when they see a whirlwind coming, they all go underground to sit it out.’

Rabbit came up from the beach at that point. ‘The Cap’n told me to tell you that the Seagull’s ready to go whenever you say it’s all right,’ the clever little iron-smith advised.

‘Tell him that we’ll be along in just a few minutes,’ Dahlaine said. Then he looked at his brother and sister. ‘We could probably go on ahead,’ he told them, ‘but it might be better if we stayed with the Maags. They’ll want directions, and we can give them information they’ll probably need before long while we’re sailing on up to my Domain. It’s going to take quite a while to get there – even on those fast Maag longships – so we might as well use that time to our advantage.’

‘Could you have a word with Narasan?’ Longbow asked Veltan as they walked on down to the beach. ‘I think we might want to have Keselo with us in the north country. He spent a great deal of his time studying when he was younger, and he carries a lot of information in his head that we might need in Dahlaine’s Domain.’ Longbow smiled slightly. ‘Rabbit and I came to realize that if we named something, Keselo had probably studied it.’

‘He is quite learned,’ Veltan agreed. ‘I’ll have a talk with Narasan before I join Gunda and Ekial in that little yawl. I’m fairly sure that Narasan will agree. I’m sure you noticed that Narasan’s going off to the east just to mollify sister Aracia’s sense of having been offended because everybody didn’t rush over to her Domain to defend her.’

‘I don’t think that’s entirely true, Veltan,’ Longbow disagreed. ‘Red-Beard and I were talking outside your map-room when Aracia and Dahlaine were arguing, and we sort of agreed that your older sister’s problem wasn’t so much offense as it was fear. If the descriptions we’ve heard of her part of the Land of Dhrall are anywhere close to being accurate, she doesn’t have anything that even remotely resembles an army. She has farmers, merchants, and priests, but no soldiers. If the creatures of the Wasteland attack her Domain, there’s nobody there to resist. That’s why she wanted both the Maags and the Trogites to go east. She’s more than a little self-centered, of course, but it was fear that was driving her.’

‘Now that’s something we hadn’t even considered,’ Veltan admitted. ‘It does sort of fit, though. We all get a bit strange and confused at the end of one of our cycles, and the rest of the family assumed that she was being driven by pride, and that being adored by all those priests had dislocated her mind. We never even considered the possibility of fear. You might want to pass this on to Dahlaine and Zelana and see what they think. It could explain Aracia’s odd behavior here lately.’

Things were a bit crowded on board the Seagull as they sailed south from the house of Veltan in the late summer. Sorgan obviously wasn’t too pleased when Zelana and Dahlaine appropriated his cabin, but it did make sense, since they had the children, Eleria, Ashad, and Yaltar with them. Maag sailors frequently spoke to each other in colorful terms, and it was probably best to keep the children in a place where they couldn’t hear certain words.

Also, for some reason that Red-Beard couldn’t really see, Dahlaine had insisted that Omago and his beautiful wife Ara should join their party. There was something about Ara that Red-Beard couldn’t quite understand. She was beautiful, of course, but very peculiar things seemed to happen quite frequently when she was around. It could just be coincidence, of course, but Red-Beard was more than a little dubious about that.

For right now, however, Red-Beard had something a bit more serious to worry about. Once the Seagull and the rest of the Maag fleet were past the south coast of Veltan’s Domain, they’d be sailing north along the coast of Zelana’s part of the Land of Dhrall, and there was a distinct possibility that they’d pull into the bay of Lattash for any one of a dozen or so reasons.

It took him a while to work up enough nerve to speak with Zelana about the matter.

‘Are you busy?’ he asked her one bright, sunny morning as the Seagull raced down along the east coast and Zelana was standing alone near the bow.

‘Are we having some sort of problem?’ she asked him.

‘Well, I hope not,’ he replied. ‘Do you think you could see your way clear to persuade Sorgan Hook-Beak to avoid the bay of Lattash?’

‘Is there something wrong with Lattash, Red-Beard?’

‘New Lattash,’ he corrected her. ‘Old Lattash was just fine, but it’s not there any more. It’s New Lattash that’s got me worried.’

‘And why’s that, dear boy?’

‘Boy?’ Red-Beard found the term to be a bit offensive.

‘It’s just a relative term,’ she said, smiling. ‘What’s troubling you so much, Red-Beard?’

‘I’d really be much happier if word that I’m here on the Seagull didn’t leak out anywhere in the vicinity of the new village.’

‘It’s your home, isn’t it?’

‘Well, it used to be. After my uncle White-Braid came apart when Old Lattash was buried by that lava flow, the villagers decided that I should be the chief.’

‘It seems that I’d heard about that. Did I ever congratulate you?’

‘No, and I think I’d like to keep it that way. To be honest about it, I didn’t want to be the chief, and I still don’t. If I’m lucky, these wars in the other parts of the Land of Dhrall will go on and on for years. I’ve never wanted to be the chief of the tribe, and I still don’t.’

Zelana laughed. ‘You and my sister make a very odd pair, Red-Beard. She wants all that authority and adoration, but you keep running away from it.’