Rage of the Dragon by Margaret Weis Page A

hands, looked into her eyes. “Vindrash sent the ship so that you could take the spiritbone to a place of safety.”
    Aylaen let him keep hold of her hands, which astonished him. “The spiritbone is safe where it is. And so am I. I already told you, my wyrd is bound with the Venjekar .”
    She walked off, leaving Skylan to stare after her, his wits so much sea foam.
    “She routed you, my friend—foot, horse, and chariot,” said Acronis, coming up to stand beside him. “I never saw a man lose a battle faster.”
    “I should make her go,” Skylan said, frowning, though he had no idea how, short of knocking her unconscious.
    Acronis clapped him on the shoulder. “Give up, Skylan. Make what terms for surrender you can and leave the field to her.”
    In the end, five chose to stay with Skylan and the Venjekar .
    Wulfe was one, of course. He would never leave Skylan, despite the fact that the oceanaids were adamant that something bad was going to happen. Acronis was another. He would be needed to navigate. Skylan had been hoping the others would try to persuade Aylaen to go with them, but when she told the men she would be staying with the Venjekar , they accepted her decision. She was the Bone Priestess and her place was with the Dragon Kahg. Treia was staying, because no one knew what to do with her. Farinn’s decision to stay with Skylan caused an uproar. He was the youngest. The men urged him to come.
    “I order you to go,” said Skylan.
    Farinn shook his head. “I can’t obey, sir. I won’t leave in the middle of my song!”
    “Your song is liable to be very short and have a very bad ending,” said Skylan grimly.
    Farinn flushed and shrugged. He didn’t have the courage to look at Skylan, but he wouldn’t budge either. He just kept shaking his head and at last Skylan gave up.
    Within a short time, Torval’s Fist was loaded with supplies and ready to sail. The time came for farewells.
    The differences, the arguments, Sigurd’s dislike of Skylan and his attempt to take over as Chief of Chiefs, Bjorn’s loyalty to Skylan in defiance of Sigurd, the fights, the rivalries and animosity that had once loomed so large seemed very small and petty now. The good-byes were brief, especially as the wind was starting to freshen, coming out of the south like a breath from the god. The breeze would carry the ship northward, toward home.
    A few awkward embraces, several attempts at jests, messages to carry to loved ones, and then Sigurd and his men boarded Torval’s Fist . They spent a few tense moments trying to figure out how to steer the clumsy ogre vessel, then the triangular sail caught the wind and carried them over the gray and misty sea, into the fog, and they were gone.
    Skylan stood watching until he could no longer see them. He was assailed by doubts.
    In the shield wall, all the warriors stand together, shoulder to shoulder, their shields overlapping. Here he was surrounded by enemies, and he had shattered his shield wall, split his forces, sent his warriors away.
    Because of a dream.
    Wulfe wandered over to announce cheerfully that if the ogres killed Skylan, he, Wulfe, would change into a man-beast and rip out their throats.
    “I’d rather they didn’t kill you, though,” Wulfe added after some thought.
    “Me, too,” said Skylan.

CHAPTER
    6
    The Venjekar drifted on the water, rolling on the uneasy waves. Torval’s fog was now only scarf-like patches of mist hanging above the sea. The sun rose. It was morning. But what morning? Skylan had lost track of time. Today might be today or it might be yesterday or maybe tomorrow. He didn’t suppose it mattered. He went to take the tiller. The Dragon Kahg had kept them from drifting in the fog. Now that the sun was up, Skylan would have to set a course.
    As the wind whisked away the last vestige of mist, Farinn, who had been posted as lookout from the stern, gave a cry and Acronis, standing at the prow, gave a shout. Skylan did not know where to look first. He