Emily Rodda - Deltora Quest #6 - The Maze of the Beast

Dain gave a start, but instantly controlled himself. Plainly, he had decided that he had no choice but to stay with the boat, at least for the present.

Barda looked at him, then shrugged agreement.

“All right. Only two more things,” the captain went on. “One, I’m offering a ride, not a guard service. This is a cruel river, and your safety is your own concern. Two, if you’re Ols, that’s your business. I’ll carry Ols as happily as I’ll carry anyone, as long as they pay. But you’ll keep your hands to yourselves while you’re on this boat, or you’ll find yourselves overboard feeding the worms. I’ve dealt with Ols before, and I can do it again. Understand?”

Lief, Barda, and Dain stared, then nodded. The captain grinned, turned on his heel, and left them.

“It’s all right,” hissed the woman in pink. “He said that to us, too. I suppose he has to be careful. But really!”

The captain had returned to the helm in the boat’s cabin. He shouted some orders, the polypan leaped to do his bidding, a whistle sounded, and the boat began moving again.

Lockie the Stripe sat down with a grunt, placed the painted music box between his knees and began to turn the handle. A piping, jigging tune began. The woman in pink and her long, thin partner began to dance, their feet thumping on the rough boards. She laughed. He remained as solemn as the grave. The two other men went back to their card game. The young woman in the purple cloak twirled her parasol and stared out at the river.

The companions sat down on a bench by the rail.

“A strange group,” Barda muttered. “We will have to keep our wits about us.”

“Indeed.”

They all looked up. The young woman in purple had moved closer to them. She was still staring at the water, but plainly it was she who had spoken.

Lief stared at her. At the proud tilt of her head, the painted lips, the black-shadowed eyes, the long golden earrings. Then he had the shock of his life as he recognized her.

It was Jasmine.

The sun was very low in the sky. The River Queen chugged on, steadily moving down the river. Lockie the Stripe had at last grown tired of turning the handle of his music box, and was lying flat on his back on the deck with his eyes closed. The woman in pink and her companion were murmuring together. The two card-playing men had begun another game.

Without making any sign that she knew them, Jasmine had moved away from Barda, Lief, and Dain once more. Now she was sitting alone under her parasol at the other end of the boat. “I cannot believe I did not recognize her!” Lief whispered for the twentieth time. “How did she come by those clothes?”

“From our friend Steven, I have no doubt,” Barda whispered back. “She must have tried to go inland, to avoid the reed beds, and been forced at last to double back to the Broad River path. So it was that she ended up behind us, instead of in front.”

“She is very clever,” Dain murmured admiringly, watching Jasmine daintily nibbling dried fruit from a small bag in her hand. “Who would describe her as ‘a wild girl’ now? But where is her bird?”

Lief glanced at the riverbank, and caught a glimpse of a black shadow skimming silently through the reeds. Kree was keeping them well in sight.

As the sun set, the reed beds at last gave way to flat drifts of sand scattered with low bushes. The moon rose, only to be covered by cloud almost at once. The whistle blew. The River Queen slowed and stopped.

“We start again at first light,” the captain announced as Chett threw out the anchor with a rattle of chain. “Make yourselves comfortable, friends, and get some rest. But be on guard. Remember, your safety is your business, not mine.”

He stumped back into his cabin and shut the door. Everyone heard the firm click as a bolt slid home. Now there was silence, except for the lapping of the water and the creaking of timbers.

Chett ran around the deck, lighting lanterns, but they did little to pierce the darkness beyond the boat. The woman in pink leaned against her companion and closed her eyes. The men at the table threw down their cards, pulled blankets out of their packs, and settled themselves to rest.

Lief, Barda, and Dain ate a little, and drank sparingly. Then they, too, took out blankets, for the night was growing chilly. Lief yawned. The rocking of the boat was making him sleepy. He fought to stay awake.

“I will keep first watch, Lief,” said Barda’s voice out of the gloom. “Sleep, but be ready. I fear that this is going to be a long night.”

Ashriek woke Lief. He was on his feet in an instant, his hand on his sword. He had no idea how much time had passed. It was very dark. The lanterns had gone out. The sky was black.

“Barda!” he hissed. “Dain!”

The two voices answered close beside him. His companions were also standing and alert.

The shriek came again. Lief realized that it was Kree. Kree was crying a warning. Where was Jasmine? He wanted to call to her, but knew he could not. No one must guess they knew one another.

Sleepy, grumbling voices could be heard around the deck as the other passengers stirred. “It is only a bird, my love,” the woman in pink mumbled. “Go back to sleep.”

For a moment, there was silence once more, except for the lapping of the water, the creaking of the boat’s timbers. But surely — Lief’s ears strained — surely the sounds were not quite as they had been before. They were louder. And a slight, bumping noise had joined them.

Another boat …

The thought had barely crossed Lief’s mind when all of a sudden the darkness around the deck rails seemed to move and thicken. He could hear heavy breathing, and the tinny rattle of steel. The boat was being boarded!

“Beware!” he shouted. “Defend your —”

There was a roar of anger and a rush of feet. Someone cannoned into him, throwing him down violently. He hit the deck with a thump, striking his brow on the corner of something that chimed and jingled. The music box, he thought confusedly. He touched his forehead and felt trickling blood.

Dizzy and sick, he crawled to his knees. Lockie the Stripe was squealing in panic. The woman in pink was screaming and crying. Sounds of fighting filled the darkness. Lief could hear crashes and groans, a blood-curdling yell, the splash of something heavy falling over the side. He could hear the clash of steel against steel.

“Give us some light, you fool!” roared a voice.

One by one, the lanterns began to glow once more. The polypan was lighting them, grinning and chewing as he swung from one to the other. Gradually, a scene of horror was revealed.

There must have been twenty invaders at least. Men, and women, too, with knives, swords, and axes. They wore a strange array of fine and tattered clothes, their wild hair was matted, their eyes glittering.

Barda, his back against the deck railing, fought two of them. Dain was beside him, fending off a third. Lockie was cringing on the deck. The woman in pink, wailing helplessly, was clutching at the thin man who was shaking her off, crawling away like a long-legged spider looking for a hole to hide in. One of the card-playing men lay dead in a pool of blood. The other had disappeared. Over the side, no doubt, thought Lief, remembering the splash.

Of the captain there was no sign. No doubt he was still locked in his cabin, and Lief was quite sure that he would not venture out for the sake of a few passengers. They had accepted his terms, paid their money, and taken their chances. He had not spent a lifetime on this dangerous river for nothing.