"Your help in a desperate venture," said Chryseis. "I tell you frankly
that we may well all die in it. But at least you will die as a free
man--and if we succeed, all the world may be ours."
"What is it?" he asked hoarsely.
"I cannot tell you everything now," said Shorzon. "But the story has
long been current that you once sailed to the lairs of the Xanthi, the
Sea Demons, and returned alive. Is it true?"
"Aye." Corun stiffened, with sudden alarm trembling in his nerves.
"Aye, by great good luck I came back. But they are not a race for
humans to traffic with."
"I think the powers I can summon will match theirs," said Shorzon. "We
want you to guide us to their dwellings and teach us the language on
the way, as well as whatever else you know about them. When we return,
you may go where you choose. And if we get their help, we will be able
to set Conahur free soon afterward."
Corun shook his head. "It's nothing good that you plan," he said
slowly. "No one would approach the Xanthi for any good purpose."
"You did, didn't you?" chuckled the wizard dryly. "If you want the
truth, we are after their help in seizing the government of Achaera, as
well as certain knowledge they have."
"If you succeeded," argued Corun stubbornly, "why should you then let
Conahur go?"
"Because power over Achaera is only a step to something too far beyond
the petty goals of empire for you to imagine," said Shorzon bleakly.
"You must decide now, man. If you refuse, you die."
Chryseis moved one slim hand and the erinye padded forward on
razor-clawed feet. The leathery wings were folded back against the
long black body, the barbed tail lashed hungrily and a snarl vibrated
in the lean throat. "If you say no," came the woman's sweet voice,
"Perias will rip your guts out. That will at least afford us an amusing
spectacle for our trouble." Then she smiled, the dazzling smile which
had driven men to their doom ere this. "But if you say yes," she
whispered, "a destiny waits for you that kings would envy. You are a
strong man, Corun. I like strong men--"
The corsair looked into the warm dark light of her eyes, and back to
the icy glare of the devil-beast. No unarmed man had ever survived the
onslaught of an erinye--and he was chained.
At thought of returning to the dark home of the Xanthi, he shuddered.
But life was still wondrous sweet, and--once free to move about, he
might still have some chance of escape or even of overpowering them.
Or--who knew? He wondered, with a brief giddiness, if the dark witch
before him could be as evil as her enemies said. Strong and ruthless,
yes--but so was he. When he learned the full truth about her soaring
plans, he might even decide they were right.
In any case--to live! To die, if he must, under the sky!
"I'll go," he said hoarsely. "I'll go with you."
The low exultant laughter of Chryseis sang in the flare-lit gloom.
Shorzon came up and took a key from his belt. For a bare moment, the
thought of snapping that skinny neck raged through Corun's mind.
The magician smiled grimly. "Don't try it," he said. "As a small proof
of what we can do--"
Suddenly he was not there. It was a monster from the jungles of Umlotu
standing in the cell with Corun, a scaled beast that hissed at him with
grinning jaws and spewed poison on the floor.
* * * * *
Sorcery! Corun shrank back, a chill of fear striking even his steely
heart. Shorzon resumed human shape and wordlessly unlocked the chains.
They fell away and Corun stumbled out into the corridor.
The erinye snarled and slipped closer. Chryseis laid a hand on the
beast's head, checking that gliding rush as if with a leash. Her smile
and the faint sweet scent of her hair were dizzying.
"Come," she said. One hand slipped between his own fingers and the cool
touch seemed to burn him.
Shorzon led the way, down a long sloping tunnel where only the
streaming torch-flames had life. Their footsteps echoed hollowly in the
wet black length of it.
"We go at once," he said. "When Khroman learns of your escape, all
Tauros will be after us. But it will be too late then. We sail swiftly
tonight."
Sail--whither?
"What of my men?" asked Corun.
"They're lost, I'm afraid, unless Khroman spares them until we get
back," said Chryseis. "But we saved you. I'm glad of that."
A faint smell of fresh salty air blew up the tunnel. It must open on
the sea, thought Corun. He wondered how many passages riddled the depth
under Tauros.
They came out, finally, on a narrow beach under the looming western
cliffs. The precipices climbed into the utter dark of night, reaching
into the unseen sky. Before them lay open sea, swirling with
phosphorescence. Corun drew deep lungfulls of air. Salt and seaweed
and wet wild wind--sand under his feet, sky overhead, a woman beside
him--by the gods, it was good to be alive!
A galley was moored against a tiny pier. By the light of bobbing
torches, Corun's mariner's eye surveyed her. She was built along the
same lines as his own ship, a lean black vessel with one square sail;
open-decked save at stem and stern, rower's benches lining the sides
with a catwalk running between. There would be quarters for the men
under the poop and forecastle decks, supplies in the hold beneath. A
cabin was erected near the waist, apparently for officers, and there
was a ballista mounted in the bows--otherwise no superstructure. A
carved sea monster reared up for figurehead, and the sternpost curved
back to make its tail. He read the name on the bows: _Briseia_. Strange
that that dark vessel should bear a girl's name.
About a fifty-man capacity, he judged. And she would be fast.
The crew were getting aboard--they must have come down the cliffs
along some narrow trail. They were all Umlotuan blues, he noticed, a
cutthroat gang if ever he saw one but silent and well disciplined.
It was shrewd to take only the mercenary warriors along; they had no
patriotic interest in what happened to Achaera, and their reckless
courage was legendary.
A burly one-eyed officer came up and saluted. "All set, sir," he
reported.
"Good," nodded Shorzon. "Captain Imazu, this is our guide, Captain
Corun."
"The raider, eh?" Imazu chuckled and shook hands in the manner of the
barbarians. "Well, we could hardly have a better one, I'm sure. Glad
to know you, Corun."
The pirate murmured polite phrases. But he decided that Imazu was a
likeable chap, and wondered what had led him to take service under
anyone with Shorzon's reputation.
They went aboard. "The Sea of Demons lies due north," said Shorzon. "Is
that the right way to sail?"
"For the time being," nodded Corun. "When we get closer, I'll be able
to tell you more exactly."
"Then you may as well wash and rest," said Chryseis. "You need both."
Her smile was soft in the flickering red light.
Corun entered the cabin. It was divided into three
compartments--apparently Imazu slept with his men, or perhaps on deck
as many men preferred. His own tiny room was clean, sparsely furnished
with a bunk and a washbowl. He cleaned himself eagerly and put on the
fresh tunic laid out for him.
When he came back on deck the ship was already under way. A strong
south wind was blowing, filling the dark sail, and the _Briseia_ surged
forward under its thrust. The phosphorescence shone around her hull and
out on the rolling waters. Behind, the land faded into the night.
He'd certainly been given no chance to escape, he thought. Barring
miracles, he had to go through with it now--at least until they reached
the Sea of Demons, after which anything might happen.
He shivered a little, wondering darkly whether he had done right,
wondering what their mission was and what the world's fate was to be as
a result of it.
Chryseis slipped quietly up to stand beside him. The erinye crouched
down nearby, his baleful eyes never leaving the man.
"Outward bound," she said, and laughter was gay in her voice.
He said nothing, but stared ahead into the night.
"You'd better sleep, Corun," she said. "You're tired now, and you'll
need all your strength later." She laid a hand on his arm, and laughed
aloud. "It will be an interesting voyage, to say the least."
Rather! he thought with wry humor. It occurred to him that the trip
might even have its pleasant aspects.
"Goodnight, Corun," she said, and left him.
Presently he went back to his room. Sleep was long in coming, and
uneasy when it did arrive.